Dead Radiance by T. G. Ayer Read Free Book Online

romantic as icebergs were from pots of jasmine tea. My chest simmered, a fusion of hurt and anger and self-disgust. How could I have possibly assumed Aidan was interested in me? The freak of North Wood High. No doubt he'd been filled in on all the gory details. We'd hardly spent much time together this week anyway. Besides, one little text from Cherise and he took off running. Straight into her willing, waiting arms.
    Aidan was a player, like most boys.
    My fingers gripped the sink edge. I tried to shut out the grumble of his engine as it disappeared down the street.
    Stupid.
    How could I have been so stupid? Did I lean on him too much because I still hurt from losing Joshua? Or because my heart had twisted itself up in a stupid knot just for him? He may have been a foster kid but he certainly was no different from the rest of the guys in Craven.
    I picked up the discarded can of soda, staying my need to fling it across the room. Sure, it would make me feel better, but it would wake Ms. Custer. And the last thing I needed now was company. My heart was breaking and thankfully nobody could hear it crack into a million pathetic pieces.
    Moving automatically, I washed the mug he'd left in the sink and placed it on the rack to dry. Switching the light off, I left the kitchen and walked through the dining room to the hall. My fingers reached for the switch to flick the light off when Aidan's pile of books caught my eye.
    Stacked neatly at the end of the table, they were old and thick and serious-looking. I inched forward. Breaching his precious privacy was the least of my worries. My heart chilled each time a picture of Cherise and Aidan flashed into my head. She always got what she wanted anyway. How could I change that?
    I peered over the stack of books. All the spines followed a common theme. Norse Mythology. Norse Archeology. Thunderbolt of Thor. The Myth of the Valkyrie.
    One thick volume lay open, dotted with little Post-it notes, heavily underlined and highlighted. An unusual script leapt off the pages. Incredible. And illegible. Unlike anything I'd ever laid eyes on and yet . . . an air of the familiar permeated the letters on the aged paper. I couldn't read the ancient scribble. It was as familiar to me as a bunch of Egyptian hieroglyphs, but a sense of déjà vu lingered.
    I flicked the page, mesmerized by the script, fascinated by the subject. No discovery of the ancient writings of the Norse had captured the imagination of the world yet. Not to my knowledge. But then we learned only the basics of their mythology in school.
    Caught within a web of curiosity and fascination I sank into the chair and turned the pages, finding more intricate ancient writings, while in the margins hastily handwritten notes were clear, legible and recent.
    I gasped in silence. Aidan was in the midst of translating the writing. Granted, it could have been the work of another brilliant researcher, but he'd just so recently been bent over these very books night after night. Homework perhaps? I shook my head. Nope, this was clearly more than just a class assignment. Must be for that job he'd mentioned. A writing pad sat beside the thick book, random scribblings filling every available space. This definitely counted as serious enough to keep him home the first Friday night of his stay in Craven.
    I gritted my teeth. Sure, his commitment was obvious, but dedication to one's work did not guarantee spotless morals and integrity. I studied the letters, more to get my mind off Aidan, and as soon as I began, I forgot him, entranced by the strange letters.
    The translations he'd made were easy to follow and soon I strung a few words into sentences. They were just a jumble, requiring further study to guarantee the closest possible translation, but my skin tingled, as if I could sense the real meaning thrumming between the lines, just waiting for me. As if I stood at a sea shore with my toes dipping into the warm waves as they flowed up the wet sand.
    A car