Read Online Merlin's Children (The Children and the Blood) by Skye Malone, Megan Joel Peterson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Skye Malone, Megan Joel Peterson
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but through the darkened glass, he couldn’t see anyone coming.
He darted for the nearest taxi.
“You free?” he asked as he tugged open the back door and slid inside.
The driver looked back in alarm. “Where to?”
“That, uh, fire,” Cole said, pointing in the general direction, though buildings blocked the view.
The man gave him a flat look. “Address, kid.”
Freezing, Cole wracked his brain and then pulled an address from fragmented memory, hoping he got it right. The driver’s eyebrow twitched skeptically, but after a moment’s hesitation, he put the car into gear.
Releasing the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, Cole sank back into the seat.
The cab twisted through town, weaving a path he knew he’d never be able to retrace. Time slid by, every second chewing away at the chance the Blood would still be nearby. After a century of stoplights and traffic, the cab rounded a corner and the fire trucks finally came into view.
“Just pull over here,” Cole said, shifting around to get a better view through the windshield.
The driver eyed him briefly and then did as he was told.
People milled around on sidewalks. Beyond the cordons of yellow and red tape, firemen worked to quiet the smoldering remains. Fragments of the roof draped across the charred bones of the building, sporadically raining debris down on the indistinguishable ashes littering the ground, and below the trees on the far side of the parking lot, EMTs hovered over residents huddled beneath blankets.
But none of the people were glowing, and for the life of him, he couldn’t tell if any of the onlookers seemed more like wizards than the others.
“Hey, kid, you going?” the driver asked impatiently.
Cole let out a breath. Somehow, he’d hoped it would just be that easy. Show up and everything would be, if not alright, at least closer to an answer than it’d been thus far. But the Blood were gone, and he had no idea where they were going next.
Though, he realized, he did know where they’d been. And perhaps more than here, in the Taliesin council headquarters they’d have been inclined to leave people behind.
“Kid!” the driver snapped.
“Is there a bus station near here?”
The man blinked. “Huh?”
“A bus station,” Cole repeated. “You know, Greyhound or whatever?”
“You want me to take you to a bus station,” the driver stated. “What about this place?”
“My, um, my girlfriend will be there. I thought… it’s just that her family lived here, and I was worried she’d come back to help them. But I don’t see any of them here, and the bus station was always their emergency meeting place, so–”
The driver held up a hand, cutting off the rest of the explanation. “Whatever, kid.” He put the car back into gear.
Cole sighed and sat back again. It felt ridiculous, on some level, to be traveling back across nearly half a dozen states to a place where his dad only might be. The Blood could have left. They could have their own places to hide, miles from anywhere he would think to check.
But as plans went, it was the best he could do.
Gridlock and frequent muttered cursing from the driver later, the cab pulled into the circle drive next to the brown block of the station. Coming to a stop behind another taxi, the man turned in his seat.
“You staying here or you want to head for the zoo next?”
Cole didn’t bother to reply. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out the wallet he’d stolen from his uncle Geoffrey a day and a lifetime ago. Crinkled hundred dollar bills shared space with a handful of twenties between the folds and, glancing to the meter, he drew out several of the latter and handed them up to the man.
“Keep the change,” he called and then climbed out before the man could respond.
Beneath the garish fluorescent lights, a few travelers glanced up as he peered around the door. Eyeing them, he held his breath, waiting for anyone to strike out.
Nothing happened. The
He darted for the nearest taxi.
“You free?” he asked as he tugged open the back door and slid inside.
The driver looked back in alarm. “Where to?”
“That, uh, fire,” Cole said, pointing in the general direction, though buildings blocked the view.
The man gave him a flat look. “Address, kid.”
Freezing, Cole wracked his brain and then pulled an address from fragmented memory, hoping he got it right. The driver’s eyebrow twitched skeptically, but after a moment’s hesitation, he put the car into gear.
Releasing the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, Cole sank back into the seat.
The cab twisted through town, weaving a path he knew he’d never be able to retrace. Time slid by, every second chewing away at the chance the Blood would still be nearby. After a century of stoplights and traffic, the cab rounded a corner and the fire trucks finally came into view.
“Just pull over here,” Cole said, shifting around to get a better view through the windshield.
The driver eyed him briefly and then did as he was told.
People milled around on sidewalks. Beyond the cordons of yellow and red tape, firemen worked to quiet the smoldering remains. Fragments of the roof draped across the charred bones of the building, sporadically raining debris down on the indistinguishable ashes littering the ground, and below the trees on the far side of the parking lot, EMTs hovered over residents huddled beneath blankets.
But none of the people were glowing, and for the life of him, he couldn’t tell if any of the onlookers seemed more like wizards than the others.
“Hey, kid, you going?” the driver asked impatiently.
Cole let out a breath. Somehow, he’d hoped it would just be that easy. Show up and everything would be, if not alright, at least closer to an answer than it’d been thus far. But the Blood were gone, and he had no idea where they were going next.
Though, he realized, he did know where they’d been. And perhaps more than here, in the Taliesin council headquarters they’d have been inclined to leave people behind.
“Kid!” the driver snapped.
“Is there a bus station near here?”
The man blinked. “Huh?”
“A bus station,” Cole repeated. “You know, Greyhound or whatever?”
“You want me to take you to a bus station,” the driver stated. “What about this place?”
“My, um, my girlfriend will be there. I thought… it’s just that her family lived here, and I was worried she’d come back to help them. But I don’t see any of them here, and the bus station was always their emergency meeting place, so–”
The driver held up a hand, cutting off the rest of the explanation. “Whatever, kid.” He put the car back into gear.
Cole sighed and sat back again. It felt ridiculous, on some level, to be traveling back across nearly half a dozen states to a place where his dad only might be. The Blood could have left. They could have their own places to hide, miles from anywhere he would think to check.
But as plans went, it was the best he could do.
Gridlock and frequent muttered cursing from the driver later, the cab pulled into the circle drive next to the brown block of the station. Coming to a stop behind another taxi, the man turned in his seat.
“You staying here or you want to head for the zoo next?”
Cole didn’t bother to reply. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out the wallet he’d stolen from his uncle Geoffrey a day and a lifetime ago. Crinkled hundred dollar bills shared space with a handful of twenties between the folds and, glancing to the meter, he drew out several of the latter and handed them up to the man.
“Keep the change,” he called and then climbed out before the man could respond.
Beneath the garish fluorescent lights, a few travelers glanced up as he peered around the door. Eyeing them, he held his breath, waiting for anyone to strike out.
Nothing happened. The
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