Broken Shadows by AJ Larrieu Read Free Book Online Page B

out of sight.
    “Oh, it’s huge,” Malik said. “Don’t go getting lost.”
    “No problem.” The poorly lit tunnel with no visible end creeped me out more than a little.
    I followed Malik across the hallway and into the main bar. None of the candles were lit, but the space was illuminated by a handful of electric bulbs spaced near the ceiling. I could see more of the graffiti in the brighter light—
Jackie Loves Allison
in thick block letters above the door, a sketch of a rabbit with fangs near the bathroom, a three-foot tall redwood tree occupying a previously dark corner. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Paulie at his usual barstool.
    “Hi, Mina.”
    “Roommates again?”
    He mumbled something I couldn’t make out while looking at his empty glass.
    “I usually prep garnishes before we open,” Malik said. “Have a lime or twenty.” He sent a crate of them floating up from the floor to
thunk
on the work surface in front of me.
    “Sounds like a party.” I washed my hands, found a paring knife and started cutting. Malik was doing something fancy with a bag full of kiwifruit.
    “Speaking of parties.” Malik finished peeling a kiwifruit in one long curl and sent the curl soaring into the compost bin. “Did I mention my band is in need of a keyboardist? And that we have a gig coming up?”
    “You’re in a band?”
    “Just some local shadowminds. Me and Paulie and a few others.”
    Paulie nodded. “We’re The Green Eggs.”
    I looked at Malik. “I didn’t pick it,” he said. “Anyway, you play keyboard, right?”
    I sliced a lime exactly in half with one firm cut. “No.”
    “No you don’t play?”
    “No. I’m not interested.”
    “Come on, Mina. The idiot shut his hand in the van door—he’s going to be out of commission for weeks.”
    I held up a lime wedge. “Is this thin enough?”
    “You’d get a quarter of the tips.”
    I sliced another wedge.
    “You know, I’m starting to think you don’t really play. Are you one of those posers who picks up guitars at parties and murders ‘Stairway to Heaven’?”
    I gave him the most caustic glare I could manage. He chuckled.
    “Don’t push her,” Paulie said. “You’ll end up like Greg.”
    The guy who’d grabbed me. I frowned. “What happened to him?”
    “Just lost his powers for a few hours. He’s fine.”
    I froze with my paring knife sunk into the second lime. The image of Jackson flooded my mind, tall and perfect in his suit, his briefcase strap wavering. The memory of him holding me after my nightmare. The palm-shaped mark on his chest.
    “Whoa,” Malik’s eyes went wide. “What happened with Jackson?”
    I blushed crimson. Fucking telepaths. “Nothing.”
    “You guys are into some kinky—”
    “Shut up. I had a nightmare. He was...”
    “Helping you forget about it?” Malik winked. Paulie gaped. I glared at them both.
    “No! Jesus, you’re such a jerk. It’s just...weird stuff has been happening.”
    “Weird like I-don’t-know-what-all-these-feelings-mean weird or weird like the-zombie-apocalypse-is-coming weird?”
    “I don’t even know how to talk to you.”
    “Hey, I’m just trying to see if you need relationship advice or a sawed-off.” He sent another kiwi peel into the bin.
    I sliced a lime a little too hard and juice squirted all over my face. I wiped it off with the back of my hand and sighed, resigned. “Something in between.” I told Malik about the burns on the mugger’s hand and the marks on Jackson’s chest, the way his powers had been fuzzy. He was quiet for several long moments after I finished.
    “That’s a first,” he said finally.
    “But I’m sure it’s nothing. Just a coincidence, or whatever.”
    “Wait,” Malik said. “The first time this happened was with Greg, right?”
    “So you say. But nothing—oh.” The fire. I looked over to the charred spot where the table had been. My stomach felt hollow.
    “Then the mugger. Then Jackson.” He held up fingers as he’d