Read Online Thief of Lies by Brenda Drake - Free Book Online

backpack over my shoulder and grabbed money from my dresser. The floorboards tried to rat me out as I sneaked into the bathroom and shoved my toothbrush, paste, and deodorant into the pack.
    With my back to the wall, I scooted down the hall and hid my overstuffed backpack from Pop’s view. “Later!” I lifted my umbrella from the stand by the door.
    “Stay in a group,” he said from his old worn-out recliner, the morning paper blocking his face.
    I wanted to be nice, make up for my lies, but he’d get something was up. It sickened me to be so deceiving. Standing in the hall, I tried to think up the best Gia response for the situation.
    “ Hello? I’m not five,” I finally said, and then shut the door before he could call me over for a lecture. I glanced back at the door, wanting to go back in and give him a hug. Instead, I zipped up my hoodie and struggled down the steps. The dissolvable stitches pulled angrily at my leg wound with each movement.
    Rain drenched the street. I forced the umbrella open and hobbled down Baldwin Place.
    The attack on the Park station platform was all over the news. They reported the man was high on drugs. The police were searching for him. But I knew they’d never find him, which made me uneasy to leave the apartment.
    The thought of the hound we encountered in the Paris library and the bald freak in the subway haunted me. I’d been jumpy ever since. I swore there were unknown voyeurs hiding behind the darkened windows of the tall buildings crowding the narrow street, and I imagined some sort of evil looming within each hidden courtyard or flower-bedecked fire escape. Now that I could put a name to the horrors my mother hinted at when I was young, I was more anxious than ever.
    I sprinted—the best I could with a gimpy leg—to the end of the road, fearful someone or some thing might jump at me from the shadows. I turned the corner and went straight into the café.
    After closing my umbrella at the door, I searched for Arik. He was kicking back in a seat at a table in the middle of the café, and my heart squeezed at the sight of him. I moved toward him, but he shook his head and lifted a cell phone to his ear.
    He pretended to talk into the phone as I approached. “Don’t acknowledge me. Act as though we aren’t acquaintances. Take one of the tables against the wall.”
    I brushed past him, slid into a chair at the nearest table, and kept my eyes on the window, acutely aware of Arik at the table diagonally to my left. My cell phone vibrated in my front pants pocket. I leaned back, tugged it out, and slid it open. “Hello?”
    “It’s Arik. Now listen carefully—”
    “How did you get my number?”
    “Nick gave it to me when I rang him earlier. He’s on his way here. Act as if you were waiting for him, understand?”
    “Yes,” I said. “What’s going on?”
    “Do you see those two men across the street?”
    People rushed by, peering into the windows as they passed. On the corner of Baldwin and Salem, two men—one stocky, the other lanky—crowded a street lamp.
    “Who are they?”
    “I’m not certain. I spotted them just now when I sat down. They’re most likely tracking me.”
    I swallowed hard. “Why would they track you?”
    “Probably because my recent jump history happens to match the human scent’s path.”
    My stomach dropped. “Jeesh. It’s been days already. Will our scent ever go away?”
    “The scent is imprinted in the gateway. Hounds will eventually lose the body scent, but the Monitors will always have record of the jump. You needn’t worry, you’re shielded.”
    “We have to stop Nick from coming here. They’ll smell him.” I scanned the street, mentally willing him not to show up.
    “I attempted to reach him, but there wasn’t an answer.” Arik paused. “But not to worry, I have taken measures to distract them from Nick’s scent.”
    My hand tightened around my cell phone. “What does that mean? Is that supposed to make me feel