Death Match (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 2) by A. Blythe Read Free Book Online Page A

hear Thompson snickering on the other end of the phone. She thought she was very funny. "No, I don't have an appointment, but I know the chair in front of her desk is free right now."
    "Miss Winters says..." the older man began, but Thompson must have cut him off. He hung up the phone. "Go ahead in. She says she's in room fifteen. Go left after security and then all the way down the hall."
    "On the main floor?" That was a surprise.
    "No, then take the stairwell down to the lower level."
    Ah, the dungeon. Now that made more sense.
    I made it through security without incident and wandered down the hall until I reached the stairwell. The building was bustling with energy thanks to the mess left by Laser Guy.
    “Can you believe it was some kind of generator meltdown?” one officer said to another.
    "I heard the electric company's lawyers are meeting with the families tomorrow to discuss a settlement," the other officer replied.
    The electric company was accepting the blame for a public relations nightmare? Interesting.
    I found room fifteen downstairs, tucked away beneath the stairwell. The number five was crooked on the door.
    I opened the door without knocking. "Are you the Harry Potter of the precinct or what?"
    Thompson sat behind her desk, wiping crumbs into the wastebasket. "Sorry, I wolfed down a tuna sandwich. I hadn't eaten since breakfast and I was starting to feel sick."
    "You didn't eat in front of Oscar, did you?" Oscar had OCD issues and I could only imagine what eating a tuna sandwich at a desk would do to his nerves.
    She laughed and held up a tasteful plaid handkerchief. "Where do you think I got this from?"
    I slid into the available wooden chair, careful to avoid splinters. It looked like it had been there for decades. "Care to share what he had to say?"
    Her expression turned serious. "And why would I do that?"
    "Because the mage killed people and he almost killed us."
    "And that qualifies you to do what exactly? Act as a vigilante?" She shook her head. "Nope. Sorry, Alyse."
    I folded my arms across my chest and glared. "So I guess this means Ghul School is closed for business."
    Her head snapped to attention. "You wouldn't."
    I pretended to examine my nails. "It's a shame, really. We were just getting to the good stuff."
    She leaned back in her chair and took the measure of me. Was I bluffing? Maybe. Maybe not. "What do you want to know?"
    "Just like Ghul School. I want to know whatever you know."
    "Close the door."
    "Why? Are you afraid the janitor might come in for his mop and overhear us?"
    Now it was her turn to glare. I got up and closed the door.
    "Okay," I said, settling into the wooden chair and leaning an elbow on her desk. "Let's hear it."
    "There was no evidence of drugs in the mage's system."
    Even though Pinky had told me as much, I was still surprised. I really expected drugs to be the cause of the magical meltdown.
    "So what's the theory?" I asked.
    "At this point, we don't know. Oscar Martinez claims it was the stress of preparing for the Colony Games." She threaded her fingers together on the desk. She didn't look convinced.
    "But you disagree."
    She tilted her head slightly, a subtle acknowledgement. "Before I got to PTF, I worked in narcotics. Saw plenty of what drugs can do to an otherwise sane person."
    "So you have experience with Luciano Bendetti?" Luciano was the head of the Mid-Atlantic Colony crime syndicate's drug trafficking group. I hadn't met him yet, but I'd heard talk about him.
    Her brow lifted. "You hanging out with all the mobsters now?"
    "I don't know him," I said. "Just his name."
    "Same here," she said, "He keeps a low profile. I hear he's not flashy like some of the other guys."
    "So he takes after his boss." The Dragon was the head of the crime syndicate in the Mid-Atlantic Colony. No one knew the Dragon's real identity and Thompson had made it her mission in life to find out and take him down.
    "More or less." Thompson unthreaded her fingers and reached for a pen. I