Deadly Descendant by Jenna Black Read Free Book Online

shake my head. “Then can we get out of here? It reeks.”
    There was a certain eau-de-men’s-room scent in the air. I looked around a little more, taking note of a couple of drains at the edge of the road, but nothing leapt out and yelled “Clue!” at me. I wished I had some idea of what I was doing. I was used to feeling like a more-than-competent professional, and this being-clueless crap sucked.
    We made our way back to the parking lot, which was just around the bend in the road, and I silently cursed my mercurial power. I had no idea if I’d actually seen anything significant in that underpass, and I had to trust my subconscious to have absorbed whatever information might be there and disgorge it later, when and if it was relevant. Personally, I was a big fan of sure things, and anything subconscious was not a sure thing.
    The parking lot had been practically deserted when we parked there, but, like chum in the water, Jamaal’sSaab had drawn some local predators. A handful of teenage punks, the oldest of whom was maybe sixteen, were circling the car, checking it out with greedy eyes. We’d probably been gone no more than ten minutes, but I got the feeling we were lucky the car was still there and in one piece.
    When Jamaal and I stepped into view, the kids lost interest in the car and fixated on me. I’m short and fine-boned, and my delicate features make me look like an easy victim. The oldest of the kids straightened up from his slouch, his eyes locked on me in a way that made my skin crawl. I was afraid things were going to get ugly, and I wished I’d insisted on going back into the mansion for my purse, because I could have stuck a gun in it.
    Beside me, Jamaal came to a stop, turning to glare at my admirers. There were five of them, and I pegged them as gang-bangers, probably armed despite their tender age. I worried that Jamaal’s challenging stare would pique their leader’s alpha-male instincts, but apparently, the kid was smarter than he looked. He only held Jamaal’s gaze for about five seconds before something he saw there warned him off. I might have been imagining things, but I could have sworn the kid shuddered as he looked away. If he did, he recovered his composure quickly.
    With a careless shrug, he beckoned to his pals and strutted down the sidewalk away from us. I turned to compliment Jamaal on his intimidation techniques, but the words died in my throat when I saw his face.
    Jamaal is a naturally intimidating guy, and I’d beenon the receiving end of more than one of his death glares. He’d seemed to have backed off from the edge a bit lately—ever since Anderson had threatened to kick him out of the house if he didn’t reel it in—but I saw now that the rage was still very much there. His chocolate-brown eyes were practically giving off sparks, and his lips had pulled back from his teeth in a feral snarl. He was leaning forward ever so slightly, his fists clenched at his sides, his breath coming in shallow pants. Now I knew why the kids had backed down so quickly: he looked like a maddened killer about to go on a rampage.
    Anderson had told me once that Jamaal possessed some kind of death magic. Magic that would allow him to kill someone without even touching them. Magic that wanted to be used, that ate at Jamaal’s self-control. I knew without a doubt that Jamaal was struggling for control right now, that the magic inside him wanted to be released, and that those gang-bangers could very well end up dead—even though they’d chosen to walk away—if I couldn’t get Jamaal to cool it.
    Unfortunately, I’d never had much luck in the past with cooling his ire, and I was afraid anything I said right now would draw his attention—and his death magic—to me. Of course, I was immortal, and the gang-bangers were not, so I had to risk it.
    “Hey. We’ve got two more crime scenes to investigate,” I said gently. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of this neighborhood.