As Lie The Dead by Kelly Meding Read Free Book Online

of judgment, that I smiled.
    “It’s not—” My unplanned rebuttal was interrupted by a song from my ass. A few chords of something loud, chaotic, probably popular with people who kept up with current music trends. I pulled the cell phone out of my rear jeans pocket and checked the display on the front. Kismet. She’d programmed herself into the phone. Interesting. I’d have to check the address book and see who else was in there.
    “You going to answer it?” Wyatt asked.
    “Suppose I should.” I flipped it open, smaller and slimmer than I was used to, and hit Send. “Stone.”
    “It’s Kismet,” she replied. “I need you to come to St. Eustachius Hospital, fourth floor, room 419.”
    “Why?” As soon as I asked, I knew. Didn’t know how, but no one else I cared two wits for at the moment was in the hospital. “It’s Rufus, isn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
    Wyatt’s entire body tensed.
    My stomach bottomed out. “Is he dead?”
    “Not yet. Make it fast, Stone.”
    She hung up before I could ask any more questions. I let the phone fall from my ear. From ally to enemy to friend, Rufus St. James had risked his life several times to help me. With more lives than a cat, the experienced Handler had survived getting shot by Halfies, only to nearly die in a fire set by … Well, that was yet to be determined. I had my suspicions, though.
    “Evy?”
    I put the phone back into my pocket and started rummaging through Alex’s dresser for clothes. They’d be a little loose, but they had to do. “Something’s happening at the hospital where Rufus is, but Kismet wouldn’t give me any details.” I found a pair of jeans and a clean polo—good God, had Alex worn anything else?—and tossed them at Wyatt. “Get dressed. We need to go.”
    He did, dropping the towel without shame. I looked away and up, taking in Alex’s bedroom for the first time. So neat and orderly, simple colors and textures. Almost impersonal. Very unlike the man I’d gotten to know, who had seemed so complex and passionate. Forgiving. Protective.
    Fingers snapped in front of my face. “Where’d you go?”
    I blinked at Wyatt. “Sorry, nowhere. Come on.”
    The outer apartment smelled of roasting meat and coffee. I looked forlornly at the skillet, now venting steam from beneath its lid, and at the carton of eggs on the counter next to the stove. Phin was perched on the counter next to the sink, spatula in one hand and mug of coffee in the other.
    “You’ll have to put our breakfast in the fridge,” I said. “Emergency call. We have to jet.”
    The turn of events didn’t seem to faze Phin. “Something’s come up, I take it,” he said blandly.
    “Yup.” I stalked into the kitchenette and started rifling through the cupboards until I found a box of cold toaster pastries. I wrinkled my nose. At least they were the iced kind.
    “You’d rather eat those than steak and eggs?” Phin asked.
    “Absolutely not, but I can’t stand rare, half-frozen steak, and we can’t wait around for it to finish.” I grabbed two packs of the pastries. “If I don’t eat something, I’m going to pass out, which’ll do no one any good, so it’s cold, dry fake strawberry thingies.”
    Wyatt caught the pack I threw at him. “What about wheels?” he asked.
    Crap. “Think maybe Chalice has her own car? We left Alex’s car at that train station.” But even if she had a car parked somewhere nearby, I didn’t have her keys.
    “Think we can get a cab in this neighborhood?”
    “If we call for one. I doubt they prowl around this area looking for fares.”
    “Is there a phone book?”
    I rolled my eyes and strode past him. “Forget it. We’ll take the bus.”
    “Bus?”
    “Yeah, I saw a bus stop about a block from here.”
    “Are you serious?”
    “Dead serious.” I pivoted on my heel, dropped, and put on a pair of gray running sneakers that had to be Chalice’s. Shoes were a good thing when racing around the city trying to find answers. “You