Read Online Pure Magic (Black Dog Book 3) by Rachel Neumeier - Free Book Online Page A

frosting, and then he felt as though he might throw up. Which would probably be a bad idea. He remembered Ethan snapping, Don’t you dare throw up near me, at Father Mark. At least Father Mark was safe, now. That was something.
    But Justin was still starving. He stole a glance at Ethan, sitting across the narrow aisle. The werewolf was glowering out at the dark, his arms crossed over his chest. The glower really did seem to be habitual. Justin looked out his own window again, watching the stars. They didn’t seem to move. Wisps of cloud whipped by, visible as blank patches against the stars. He tried to make out anything of the land over which they flew, but nothing at all was visible, so there must be a heavier layer of clouds below the plane.
    Justin decided he hated flying at night. It was like flying through a void. Like flying through nothing. Like flying out of life and into . . . Justin cut that thought off, grimacing.
    Ethan glanced over at him, frowning. “How’re you doing, kid?”
    Taken completely aback, Justin stared at the werewolf. Then realized he was staring. He could feel heat rise up his cheeks. He looked away quickly. “Fine,” he muttered. He wanted to snap, Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’ve just been nearly killed and threatened and kidnapped! I’m just great! But he didn’t dare.
    Ethan uncrossed his arms and set his hands on his knees, frowning more heavily. “You really are safe, you know,” he told Justin. “And, you know, Ezekiel was never going to kill that priest. We don’t kill priests, as a rule. I guess it doesn’t make any difference if you know that now.”
    “Sure,” Justin said, not looking at him. He tried to decide whether this could be true. Why would werewolves not want to kill priests? Especially if they were some kind of demon. Half demon. Whatever that meant.
    “A word of advice, free: don’t try that sullen attitude on Grayson, kid.”
    A dozen hot responses crowded into Justin’s mind, starting with You ass, let me show you sullen! and ending with an even more juvenile Oh, you can take it but you can’t dish it out? He bit his tongue on all of that and said instead, “I’m not twelve. Stop calling me kid .”
    Ethan actually grinned, though even that was a hard expression, not completely unlike his glower. “Justin, right,” he said. “Look, you hungry? There’s no service on this flight, but I expect I could dig up some crackers or something.”
    Justin realized he was staring again. He said after a moment, “Crackers would be good.” Then, after another moment, he added, “Thanks.”
    “No problem.” Ethan levered himself out of his narrow seat, made his way back to the rear of the plane—it wasn’t far, the plane had only eight passenger seats—and began to poke around. After a few minutes, he came back with several packets of peanut-butter crackers and a bottle of water, all of which he dropped onto the seat next to Justin. Then he resumed his own seat, but this time he watched Justin rather than looking out the window. He said abruptly, “You were on the road, obviously. But if you weren’t running toward Dimilioc, then what were you running toward? Or from? Your mother—she’s dead, is that right?”
    Justin’s jaw tightened. He twisted the top off the bottle of water with savage force.
    “Yeah,” said Ethan. “Thought so. Sorry to hear it.”
    He actually sounded sincere about that. Justin studied him. He didn’t look exactly friendly, but he didn’t look like he was mocking Justin, either.
    “She must have been Pure, right? How’d she die?” Ethan asked. “A black dog kill her?”
    “Yes,” said Ezekiel’s cool, light voice, before Justin could decide if he wanted to answer. “Do tell us all about your mother.” The other young werewolf was leaning in the doorway of the cockpit, watching Justin dispassionately.
    “Who’s flying the plane?” Justin asked, alarmed, trying to see around Ezekiel’s slender form and into the