A Murder of Magpies by Sarah Bromley Read Free Book Online Page B

bleak sky swarmed with clouds as if my unrest could influence the weather. My
     hands vibrated, a smell of ozone touched my nose as sparks fractured around my fingertips.
     Seconds later, raindrops pinged on the copper awnings, falling so fast puddles spread
     on the gravel drive. Halloween was a few days off, and in another week, this rain
     could well be ice. I was beginning to like the cold.
    I backed away, slamming the door. The paranoia of locks remained undone, but I removed
     the curtains from their hooks. Jonah always let in the light, and I closed it out.
     I could pretend to protect the antiques from the sun’s glare. That was a fib Jonah
     could push past if he so chose.
    I spotted an iPod on the coffee table, tagged by masking tape scrawled with Ward’s
     name and number. I wound my hand into my skirt to keep a thin shield between any remnant
     of Ward and myself. Scanning his playlist, half the artists weren’t anyone I recognized.
     Old Crow Medicine Show, Sun Kil Moon. My, what a strange boy Ward was.
    I touched his coat and lowered my barriers for Ward. To really let him through. I
     didn’t practice the Mind Game often. Sometimes someone’s possessions carried enough
     energy to let me inside their head, to see what they did. Knowing what emotions adhered
     to objects was unpredictable, and I didn’t like using those objects to work minds.
    I held the iPod, concentrating, seeking Ward, when a massive wave of melancholy rolled
     over me so strong my gut churned. The lights flickered, dimming for a beat before
     glowing far more brightly than the led bulbs should’ve allowed. Dull-bright-dull-bright.
    Then I saw him.
    He washed his face in a bathroom with blue walls and white tiles. He was shirtless,
     defined muscles on thin arms. Freckles dotted his shoulders. A tattoo of a gray-scale
     raven began on his right shoulder and wound halfway down his bicep. It was an unkind
     bird, a broken bird, its head swiveled so it glared as if to say, “Back off.” Trailing
     away from his arms, I moved to his abdomen, which was boyish despite a shadow of muscles.
     His unbuttoned jeans hung open below his hips and brought my curiosity lower.
    My heart thumped faster as I lifted the telephone from its cradle and dialed the number
     on the iPod. On the second ring, I hung up and yanked myself from his mind. Not before
     I saw him scowl as he checked the Caller ID on his cell phone.
    He didn’t call back.
     
    ***
     
    There was little chance anyone from school would see Chloe leave my house, but she
     crept out with her head ducked and face obscured by enormous sunglasses as she snuck
     out after spending an hour in Jonah’s bedroom. I should’ve offered her a hooded cloak.
     It’d hide her better.
    She didn’t trust us. Didn’t trust what we’d say. Didn’t trust that she’d remain unseen.
    Only certain souls deserved trust. Dad taught us that. Even if we hadn’t been so superstitious,
     no one would’ve understood my family, how our minds worked. Not unless we counted
     Rain, but he’d known about Mind Games since before Mom met Dad. Mom trusted Rain and
     Dad with her secret, nobody else. She still wound up dead. Murdered.
    Jonah plodded down the stairs in time with the rainfall. “What the hell were you doing?”
    I took off Ward’s jacket and hung it on the coat tree. “What do you mean?”
    “The lights in my room kept dimming when I was with Chloe,” he answered.
    I lowered my face. Nothing got past him. “I was working a Mind Game.”
    He whipped his body off the last step and stood over me, his long shape stretched
     high over my head, burning. “You need to stop fucking around and get serious. Either
     work your Mind Games or don’t, but this half-assed stuff needs to stop!”
    Cold spread through my muscles, and I ducked out from under him. “It’s not as if I
     don’t ever use them. I just don’t rely on them. What’s wrong with that?”
    “Because you aren’t