Read Online Pure Magic (Black Dog Book 3) by Rachel Neumeier - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rachel Neumeier
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cockpit.
Ezekiel tilted his head. “Autopilot. Don’t worry about it. There’s an alarm if anything unexpected happens. And I’m keeping an eye on things from here.”
This sounded dangerous, but Justin was too angry and nervous to worry about it. He asked sharply, hearing the sharpness in his voice but unable to mute his own anger, “Where are we going? How long a flight? What’s Dimilioc, and who’s Grayson—Grayson Lanning, isn’t that right? Did he send you after me?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity from sharpening his voice on that last question.
Ezekiel looked Justin up and down, smiling. “Just one question after another, isn’t it? You already know we’re going to Dimilioc. You’ll find out all about everything when we get there. Tell me about your mother.”
“There’s nothing to tell! She’s dead , she died . She was alive and then she died .”
Ezekiel tilted his head to one side and asked, as Ethan had, “A black dog kill her?”
Justin stared at him. “A flash flood killed her! It was a stupid accident .”
“Could have been worse, then,” said Ezekiel.
The plane bucked and suddenly dropped several feet while Justin was still trying to catch his breath so he could answer this, and Ezekiel frowned and went back into the cockpit.
“Just in time,” Justin muttered, just a little louder than he’d meant to. “Or I’d have had to kill him.”
Ethan grinned and leaned back in his seat. “You wouldn’t be the first to want to, believe me. Can’t kill the pilot of the plane, though. Impractical.”
“Maybe when we land, then,” Justin said. He felt obscurely better, with Ethan almost friendly. He stared at Ethan, trying to see the werewolf inside him. That half-solid spiky darkness still clung to him. A darkness edged with red fire. Even Justin had never seen anything like it. Until tonight, Justin had thought he’d seen a lot.
“I am sorry about your mother,” Ethan said suddenly. “We’ve all lost family. We won’t lose anyone else.” He said this not so much to Justin as to himself, or to the universe. Like a promise, or a vow.
Justin nodded. He watched Ethan, feeling some of his anger and most of his nervousness ease toward curiosity. Maybe . . . maybe he could sympathize with these young werewolves after all. He wondered who Ethan had lost, and how long ago. Someone important, he was willing to bet. And recently. He shook his head. And tore open a packet of crackers, like accepting a peace offering.
It was still the middle of the night when Ezekiel landed the plane at a town called, Ethan said, Newport. Ethan didn’t seem to mind telling Justin the name of the town or that it was in Vermont, hard against the Canadian border. He tapped impatiently on the armrest of his seat while Ezekiel ran through some kind of necessary paperwork with the control tower. He told Justin where they were, and how much longer it would take them to get to Dimilioc, possibly just because he was bored with the wait, which did stretch out.
“Dimilioc’s east, in the Kingdom Forest, about a forty minute drive if the roads are good,” Ethan told him. “Which, granted, they’re not, this time of year.”
Justin nodded, not quite paying attention. He was thinking about Dimilioc. He was both longing to arrive and dreading it. He wanted this interminable night to be over, but he was not at all sure he wanted to meet the . . . boss, king, whatever, of the werewolves. He asked nervously, “Is everybody in this Dimi—Dimilioc thing a werewolf?”
Ethan’s heavy eyebrows went up. “Of course a lot of us in Dimilioc are black dogs, though naturally not all .” He paused, then went on, “And you, Pure as you are, honestly don’t know the right name for what we are, and can’t even pronounce ‘Dimilioc.’ What did your mother teach you?” Ethan sketched a sign in the air, a five-pointed star. “Did she teach you that?”
Justin had no idea what he meant. But . . . it was
Ezekiel tilted his head. “Autopilot. Don’t worry about it. There’s an alarm if anything unexpected happens. And I’m keeping an eye on things from here.”
This sounded dangerous, but Justin was too angry and nervous to worry about it. He asked sharply, hearing the sharpness in his voice but unable to mute his own anger, “Where are we going? How long a flight? What’s Dimilioc, and who’s Grayson—Grayson Lanning, isn’t that right? Did he send you after me?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity from sharpening his voice on that last question.
Ezekiel looked Justin up and down, smiling. “Just one question after another, isn’t it? You already know we’re going to Dimilioc. You’ll find out all about everything when we get there. Tell me about your mother.”
“There’s nothing to tell! She’s dead , she died . She was alive and then she died .”
Ezekiel tilted his head to one side and asked, as Ethan had, “A black dog kill her?”
Justin stared at him. “A flash flood killed her! It was a stupid accident .”
“Could have been worse, then,” said Ezekiel.
The plane bucked and suddenly dropped several feet while Justin was still trying to catch his breath so he could answer this, and Ezekiel frowned and went back into the cockpit.
“Just in time,” Justin muttered, just a little louder than he’d meant to. “Or I’d have had to kill him.”
Ethan grinned and leaned back in his seat. “You wouldn’t be the first to want to, believe me. Can’t kill the pilot of the plane, though. Impractical.”
“Maybe when we land, then,” Justin said. He felt obscurely better, with Ethan almost friendly. He stared at Ethan, trying to see the werewolf inside him. That half-solid spiky darkness still clung to him. A darkness edged with red fire. Even Justin had never seen anything like it. Until tonight, Justin had thought he’d seen a lot.
“I am sorry about your mother,” Ethan said suddenly. “We’ve all lost family. We won’t lose anyone else.” He said this not so much to Justin as to himself, or to the universe. Like a promise, or a vow.
Justin nodded. He watched Ethan, feeling some of his anger and most of his nervousness ease toward curiosity. Maybe . . . maybe he could sympathize with these young werewolves after all. He wondered who Ethan had lost, and how long ago. Someone important, he was willing to bet. And recently. He shook his head. And tore open a packet of crackers, like accepting a peace offering.
It was still the middle of the night when Ezekiel landed the plane at a town called, Ethan said, Newport. Ethan didn’t seem to mind telling Justin the name of the town or that it was in Vermont, hard against the Canadian border. He tapped impatiently on the armrest of his seat while Ezekiel ran through some kind of necessary paperwork with the control tower. He told Justin where they were, and how much longer it would take them to get to Dimilioc, possibly just because he was bored with the wait, which did stretch out.
“Dimilioc’s east, in the Kingdom Forest, about a forty minute drive if the roads are good,” Ethan told him. “Which, granted, they’re not, this time of year.”
Justin nodded, not quite paying attention. He was thinking about Dimilioc. He was both longing to arrive and dreading it. He wanted this interminable night to be over, but he was not at all sure he wanted to meet the . . . boss, king, whatever, of the werewolves. He asked nervously, “Is everybody in this Dimi—Dimilioc thing a werewolf?”
Ethan’s heavy eyebrows went up. “Of course a lot of us in Dimilioc are black dogs, though naturally not all .” He paused, then went on, “And you, Pure as you are, honestly don’t know the right name for what we are, and can’t even pronounce ‘Dimilioc.’ What did your mother teach you?” Ethan sketched a sign in the air, a five-pointed star. “Did she teach you that?”
Justin had no idea what he meant. But . . . it was
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