Fire Touched by Patricia Briggs Read Free Book Online

poison what was between Adam and me.
    â€œI’ll do it,” I said. “I’m faster than you guys are.”
    Tony’s hand clamped on my arm. “Civilian,” he snapped.
    I looked at him. “You know what I am,” I said dryly, because he did. I’d kept what I was a secret for most of my life. But being Adam’s wife, belonging to the pack—that looked like it meant that a lot of my secrets were going to come out. Being Adam’s wife meant that being a coyote shifter wasn’t going to make me any more of a target than I already was.
    The other officers were paying attention while trying to pretend they weren’t. We’d been clear with the news media that I wasn’t a werewolf.
    I gave Tony a smile. “You’ve seen me run.” And so the police would know we hadn’t lied to them outright: “I’m not a werewolf, but I’m faster than any mundane person.”
    He didn’t smile back. “Maybe so. Are you faster than that thing?”
    A howl echoed from the bridge, and I saw the gathered police officers come to alert, their hands sliding to weapons and their muscles tensing. I understood the instinct; the distinctive howl was as much a weapon of the tibicena as the volcanic heat under his skin. He hadn’t loosed the full power of his cry. But despite that, despite the distance between us, the howl sent an atavistic icy finger of fear up my spine, only partially alleviated by my understanding that it was just magic.
    â€œIt looks like we’re going to find out. Besides, our tibicena”—who had been lion-sized, half-formed, and growing the last time I’d seen him—“won’t forget I’m an ally. I’m not sure he’d make the same association with a stranger.” I didn’t know how much of Joel had stayed in charge when he took full tibicena form. Joel said it was hit-and-miss. So far, the tibicena had been friendly, more or less, to anyone in the pack.
    â€œNo,” Tony said.
    â€œNo,” snapped Willis.
    â€œNot your call to make,” I told them. Then I twisted using my shoulder and opposite hand to break Tony’s grip and slipped by his attempt to regain a hold. As soon as I was free, I bolted for the bridge.
    My ears told me no one had taken more than a couple of steps to stop me, but at the end of the bridge, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure. Then I dropped to a walk.
    Running would attract the troll’s attention if it looked this way. The bridge had four lanes with a central divider. On the outer edge of the outside lane was a guardrail, a sidewalk, and a waist-high banister-style galvanized fence designed to keep people from leaping off into the river. There was a sign, too, that announced there was a $250 fine for jumping from the bridge. The outer coat of galvanization on the metal railings had begun to peel under the effects of the sun and wind, but it didn’t look trashy yet.
    I gripped the top of the rail and walked steadily up the bridge. I looked at the ground, the sky, the water below, dark blue because the wind was blowing in a storm. I even looked at the men crouching on top of the island hotel. I didn’t look for the troll. Some things can feel you watching them. If I made it to the van without attracting attention, it would be a very good thing.
    Ahead of me, I could hear the sound of metal crunching and glass breaking. I could hear Adam growling and the sound of Darryl’s voice, though I couldn’t tell what he was saying. Whatever they were doing, they were doing it on the far side of the bridge.
    I made it safely to the first car, the upside-down red Buick. There was blood on the broken glass of the driver’s-side door. It wasn’t enough to have been life-threatening—but people die fromthings other than blood loss when their car has rolled. Tony and Willis had only described two deaths, so the occupants of this car were