Read Online No Love for the Wicked by Megan Powell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Megan Powell
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set up, the whole screen went black.
“Good morning, Agent Magnolia One, Red-Level Task Force,” an electronic female voice greeted me.
“Er, hi.”
It didn’t answer. Chang had had to program my last name as One because, apparently, the system had an autodestruct mechanism that would be triggered if anyone with the surname Kelch tried to log in. Whatever.
The computer hummed for a few seconds, then connected me to a remote desktop that looked exactly like the one in Thirteen’s office. I cracked my fingers, pulled the quilt tighter around my shoulders, and got to work. My very first e-mail was from Thirteen. I had an assignment. Not a turn-invisible-and-use-my-supernatural-strength-to-break-into-a-target’s-home type of assignment. But a normal, could-have-been-assigned-to-anyone assignment.
And how cool was that?
My job was research. Specifically, I was to find out everything I could about a small city named Bohlren located somewhere in Eastern Europe on a river. This would be cake. I pulled up Google Maps and started my search.
Twenty minutes later I was done. Bohlren didn’t exist. That’s all there was to it. It wasn’t on Google Maps anywhere, and according to one of the Cincinnati coffee geeks,
everything
was on Google Maps. Obviously this place didn’t exist. Frustrated, I got up to add some more whiskey to my coffee. It was after noon. I checked my phone, but there were no missed calls. Theo’s thoughts last night had whispered that we’d talk soon. So where was he?
The quiet alarm beeped. A quarter mile away, a car turned in to my icy dirt driveway. It paused just past the fencerow and just idled there. I reached out to the driver’s thoughts. Well, well, this was an interesting surprise.
I leaned back on the kitchen counter, sipped my whiskey. They idled at the road for almost seven minutes. Then with a murmured
Fuck it
, they pulled up the drive to the house. I made sure the door was cracked open when they stepped onto the porch.
“Come on in,” I called out. They hesitated. Slowly the door opened. Luce entered the kitchen first, Tony a few steps behind. “Welcome back,” I greeted them. “Want a drink? Oh, wait, you’re driving. What about you, skater dude? You old enough to drink?”
“Are you?” he replied quickly. I just smiled.
“How’s the nose?” I asked, wincing at the bandages across Luce’s black-and-blue face. “Looks painful.”
She narrowed her eyes a little. At least I think she did. Hard to tell with all that gauze and swelling. “Magnolia?” she said drily. “Just a single name like Beyoncé or Ke$ha?”
“Those were Colin’s words, not mine.”
“Your father is Magnus Kelch.
You
are a Kelch.”
I took a drink and studied my glass. “Your point?”
She leaned back on her boot heels, thoughtful. Tony pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against and strolled around the kitchen. His untied hiking boots squeaked on the hardwood floors. He hadtucked his baggy cargo pants into the boots and left his thick orange coat unzipped. He looked at the walls and peeked into the living room as if my mere presence would somehow shift the house in some strange, supernatural way. The laptop on the ottoman snapped shut. Tony jumped. I smiled as I poured more whiskey into my glass.
Luce’s thoughts grabbed my attention. “I’m impressed,” I admitted and looked her over with new respect. “You’ve tailed me since yesterday? Thirteen didn’t even catch a whiff of it. I had a few moments of paranoia, but nothing that set me off. Impressive.” And distressing. If these guys could put a tail on me without me catching it, my father could track me no problem. I’d been sloppy, too relaxed. That needed to change.
“We don’t move on our target for another couple days,” she said. “And you’re dangerous. Even someone who doesn’t know about the supernaturals of the world could sense that.”
“So you two took it upon yourselves to follow me. And
“Good morning, Agent Magnolia One, Red-Level Task Force,” an electronic female voice greeted me.
“Er, hi.”
It didn’t answer. Chang had had to program my last name as One because, apparently, the system had an autodestruct mechanism that would be triggered if anyone with the surname Kelch tried to log in. Whatever.
The computer hummed for a few seconds, then connected me to a remote desktop that looked exactly like the one in Thirteen’s office. I cracked my fingers, pulled the quilt tighter around my shoulders, and got to work. My very first e-mail was from Thirteen. I had an assignment. Not a turn-invisible-and-use-my-supernatural-strength-to-break-into-a-target’s-home type of assignment. But a normal, could-have-been-assigned-to-anyone assignment.
And how cool was that?
My job was research. Specifically, I was to find out everything I could about a small city named Bohlren located somewhere in Eastern Europe on a river. This would be cake. I pulled up Google Maps and started my search.
Twenty minutes later I was done. Bohlren didn’t exist. That’s all there was to it. It wasn’t on Google Maps anywhere, and according to one of the Cincinnati coffee geeks,
everything
was on Google Maps. Obviously this place didn’t exist. Frustrated, I got up to add some more whiskey to my coffee. It was after noon. I checked my phone, but there were no missed calls. Theo’s thoughts last night had whispered that we’d talk soon. So where was he?
The quiet alarm beeped. A quarter mile away, a car turned in to my icy dirt driveway. It paused just past the fencerow and just idled there. I reached out to the driver’s thoughts. Well, well, this was an interesting surprise.
I leaned back on the kitchen counter, sipped my whiskey. They idled at the road for almost seven minutes. Then with a murmured
Fuck it
, they pulled up the drive to the house. I made sure the door was cracked open when they stepped onto the porch.
“Come on in,” I called out. They hesitated. Slowly the door opened. Luce entered the kitchen first, Tony a few steps behind. “Welcome back,” I greeted them. “Want a drink? Oh, wait, you’re driving. What about you, skater dude? You old enough to drink?”
“Are you?” he replied quickly. I just smiled.
“How’s the nose?” I asked, wincing at the bandages across Luce’s black-and-blue face. “Looks painful.”
She narrowed her eyes a little. At least I think she did. Hard to tell with all that gauze and swelling. “Magnolia?” she said drily. “Just a single name like Beyoncé or Ke$ha?”
“Those were Colin’s words, not mine.”
“Your father is Magnus Kelch.
You
are a Kelch.”
I took a drink and studied my glass. “Your point?”
She leaned back on her boot heels, thoughtful. Tony pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against and strolled around the kitchen. His untied hiking boots squeaked on the hardwood floors. He hadtucked his baggy cargo pants into the boots and left his thick orange coat unzipped. He looked at the walls and peeked into the living room as if my mere presence would somehow shift the house in some strange, supernatural way. The laptop on the ottoman snapped shut. Tony jumped. I smiled as I poured more whiskey into my glass.
Luce’s thoughts grabbed my attention. “I’m impressed,” I admitted and looked her over with new respect. “You’ve tailed me since yesterday? Thirteen didn’t even catch a whiff of it. I had a few moments of paranoia, but nothing that set me off. Impressive.” And distressing. If these guys could put a tail on me without me catching it, my father could track me no problem. I’d been sloppy, too relaxed. That needed to change.
“We don’t move on our target for another couple days,” she said. “And you’re dangerous. Even someone who doesn’t know about the supernaturals of the world could sense that.”
“So you two took it upon yourselves to follow me. And
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