11 Poison Promise by Jennifer Estep Read Free Book Online Page B

woman ducked her head to me in a silent apology, but I was in too much of a hurry to care.
    Most of the women gave me sharp, respectful nods as I passed, even going so far as to step back so I could jog by them more easily. Others actually moved all the way behind the Dumpsters, plastering themselves up against the alley walls as flat and as fast as they could. None of them actually spoke to me, but they knew that I was even more dangerous than their pimps lounging in the cars parked on the surrounding streets, and they didn’t want to do anything to attract my attention.
    I reached the end of that alley and cut through two more before I ended up on Broad Street. Since it wasn’t one of the main drags, this area was mostly deserted, except for the few commuters who hadn’t left downtown already and were rushing to their cars in the hopes of getting home in time for dinner and to tuck their kids into bed.
    I looked left and right, but I didn’t see Catalina anywhere. She must be in the garage already. If I was lucky, she was alone, and Troy and his friends hadn’t gotten here yet. If I wasn’t lucky, well, Sophia would come and help me clean up the mess, like she’d promised. So I palmed one of the silverstone knives hidden up my sleeves, hopped over the metal pole that barred the exit, and entered the garage.
    The stones started murmuring the second I stepped into the structure.
    Naturally.
    The cold, graffiti-tagged concrete bellowed like a chorus of bullfrogs—low, dark, and sinister. I tightened my grip on my knife and slid into the nearest shadow, scanning the rows of vehicles, wondering if Troy and his friends were already here. But the stone continued to rumble at a steady level, and I realized that it was only reflecting back the paranoia of all the folks who’d scurried to their cars, worried that they were going to be mugged, and especially of the ones who’d had their fears realized and their heads dashed against the pillars while some lowlife rifled through their pockets.
    Satisfied that I was alone, I moved deeper into the garage. My boots scuffed on the concrete, while the smells of gas, oil, and exhaust hung in the air. I didn’t spot Catalina on this level, so I crept up the stairs to the second story. I paused in the open doorway, listening. Footsteps echoed on this level, the steady beat almost drowning out the soft tune she was humming, one I recognized from all her hours at the Pork Pit. I shook my head. If Troy didn’t hurt Catalina, someone else lurking here surelywould. She was practically painting a target on herself, making that much cheerful noise in a place as dark and dangerous as this.
    I left the doorway behind and headed into the main part of the garage. Several cars squatted in their spaces, waiting for their owners to come claim them for the night. Catalina was walking down the center of concrete, not even bothering to glance around to see if anyone was following her. I shook my head again. It was a wonder she hadn’t been mugged in here before now.
    Catalina spun her key ring around and around on her index finger as she approached her car, the same very nice Benz that she’d been driving at the college. She stopped by the driver’s door.
    “Hello, Catalina,” I called out.
    She shrieked and whirled around, her keys flying off her finger and clattering to the concrete. Her eyes bulged even more when she realized that it was me calling out her name, but her expression quickly turned wary, and she couldn’t hide the fear that flickered in her gaze—fear of me.
    My heart clenched at the sight, at the knowledge that she was scared of me, or at least scared of my supposed reputation as the Spider. I would never intentionally hurt an innocent person, but she had no way of knowing that.
    “Gin?” Catalina asked, her hand latching onto the door handle, even though the car was still locked. “What are you doing here?”
    “Saving you.”
    She frowned. “From what?”
    “Your