Dead of Night (Ghosts & Magic #1) by M.R. Forbes Read Free Book Online

million or more.
    "There are two possibilities. One, this job is legit, and the pay is high because the risk is high. Ogres may not be subtle, but they can take a beating. Two, Black wanted those two dead, and he wanted Red to kill them. He's already gotten number two for free, and you said I'm stuck, so I might as well bank on number one and claim the prize."  
    "I have a third possibility. He wanted those two dead in that house for a reason, and since you fucked it up you're going to take their place."
    I bit my tongue, and watched the loop a few more times.
    "Right there." I pointed at the screen. "I can make a break in the whole thing. Twelve seconds."
    Danelle laughed. "You can't get from the wall to the house in twelve seconds."
    I looked up as Rayon came back in and shuffled past, his heavy feet ratcheting up the volume on the basement steps.
    "I'm iffy, but Kerry definitely can."
    "Conor, no." She sounded angry again. "You can't trust her on a job like this."
    "Why not? She's fast, she's quiet."
    "How is she going to vault the wall without a hand?"
    "Good point." I went back to examining the kinetics, ignored Rayon when he passed by with Evan over his shoulder. "I only need to take out one of them." I pointed to the red dot near the back door. "Clean break to the target. What is it, anyway?"
    Dannie took command of the keyboard again. "There's a picture." She pulled it up on the screen.
    It was mottled grey, vaguely oval, and about eight by six inches in size.  
    "A rock?" I asked.  
    "I don't know. It looks like it. Maybe it's enchanted, like your dice?"
    It seemed like the best explanation. The Houses spent a lot of time and money vying for artifacts from the Laschamp. If they'd known about the dice they would have gone crazy trying to get a hold of them, despite the fact that they could only be used by a necromancer.  
    "Forty-eight hours. Well, forty-six now. We need to high tail it out of here, and then I need to get to..."
    "Connecticut."
    I should have guessed from the render. I shifted so I could look her in the eye. "I know you aren't thrilled with this, Dannie, but we've been scraping by for how long? I finish this one job, and we're set for a year at least. A whole year where we don't have to worry about how we're going to eat, or if we're going to get taken by something on the street, or if I'll even be able to afford the meds and stay alive another month. I know you don't want to do anything for your dad, but you know we need this."
    She pursed her lips. "You shouldn't have taken the card. I've got enough of a reputation to keep getting easy jobs for a long time. Easy, safe jobs."
    "Like the hit on Carlos Jimenez?"
    She couldn't help but flinch at the name of the pyromancer who had taken her legs. They hadn't clued us in to the fact that he was a user, and so we'd been reckless in confronting him. He'd lit the match and tossed it at her, and all it had taken from there was a release of energy, and the small flame had spread into a fireball. She'd crumpled to the ground, screaming out in the kind of agony I could never have imagined, while I had to figure out a new approach to killing him. Shooting pyros was a tricky proposition, because they could take the muzzle flash and throw it back in your face, even as the bullet killed them.
    In the end, I'd rushed him. He had tried to lay his hands on me, to burn me with his touch. We'd grappled for a minute, and he put a hole right through my hoodie before I got in a lucky punch, causing him to fall and hit his head on a coffee table. It broke his fall, but not before it broke his neck.  
    There were no hospitals for ghosts, and so the first night was agony. The next three weeks weren't much better. Dalton had come by to do what he could at a nice profit, which included amputating her legs to just above the knee, and I only slept about sixteen hours over the whole span of time.
    "Fuck you for mentioning it. You know what I mean."
    "I'm sorry, Dannie. It's