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

of the driveway. The smoke from the house was getting more noticeable, and I wanted to be gone before the neighbors called the fire department. I could only imagine what they'd think when they went into the basement. There was a reason we'd paid our rent in cash.  
    "Where to?"  
    I sucked in my breath and held it, hoping it would calm the tremors Rayon's words had caused.  
    Danelle dug the card out of a small backpack at her feet. "We need to cash this in so we can lose the trail."
    "Why didn't you just do it at the house?"  
    "Too direct. We need to route it through a few other holdings first, so it will be harder to trace back to me."
    She was still worried I was going to blow it, and her father would find out she was involved in his business. Even if he thought she was working for him. It was nuts, but that was the depth of his disappointment.
    "They're going to take twenty percent."
    "Money well spent. Even if you finish the job they're going to try to trace the funds, just so they know who they're dealing with. Black doesn't like anonymity."
    "I thought that was the whole point of being a ghost? I take it you have a contact in mind?"
    She smiled. "Of course. Head down to the Loop."
    "It's two o'clock in the morning. The banks aren't open."
    "Don't be stupid. This one is."
    We crossed over the LaSalle Street bridge, into the canyon between the high skyscrapers that made up the bulk of the financial district. The buildings rose up around us, giant skeletons of steel with concrete and glass skin. Lit interiors brought faint, speckled glows to the exteriors, as overnight janitors prepped the offices for the next day's transactions and underground financiers worked the mundane magic that kept the world moving with as little disruption as possible. Most people didn't know how much the Houses actually controlled. Then again, most people probably didn't care to know.
    "You're sure this guy is freelance?"  
    The streets were almost empty this time of morning, barren but for the occasional vagrant with nowhere else to go, or a patrolling squad car. Most people went inside and locked the doors once it got late enough, including pieces of the criminal element. Even if you were a ghost, it wasn't always a safe place to be.  
    Not since the reversal.  
    Not since the monsters.  
    "I'm sure. There's a lot of coin to be made catering to unaffiliated clientele. Turn right up there, go two blocks and pull over."
    "As long as you have enough balls to openly defy the Houses." I made the turn and counted the two blocks, and then stopped the van at the side of the road. The street was deserted.
    "You see that alley?" Danelle pointed to an especially dark spot between two buildings. "Go in there, all the way to the back. There's going to be an emergency exit. Go inside, and climb up to the sixth floor. If anyone tries to stop you, tell them you're there to see Mr. Clean. If they still won't let you by, do what you have to."
    "His name isn't really Mr. Clean, is it?"
    "Close. What does it matter? Oh, and just so you know what to expect, he's a goblin."
    "You're kidding?"  
    She gave me the evil eye. "Do I look like I'm kidding?"
    It wasn't that I was racist against leathers. I had worked a shift in a clinic that treated them almost exclusively. Their mistrust had been palpable, but when you set a broken bone, or treated a case of ambrosia, they were as grateful as anybody else. My surprise was more because this Mr. Clean had somehow beat the odds and made something of himself. The fact that he was doing it in the same thread of reality as the Houses only made it more impressive.  
    I got up and moved to the back of the van, unlatching the steamer and lifting the lid. There was no order to the way we'd packed the guns, we'd just piled them in as we found them, and so I grabbed the first pistol I saw. It was a standard issue piece, matte black and plain in appearance. I shoved it into the back of my pants, under the trench coat. I dug