Night's Deep Hush: Reveler Series 4 by Erin Kellison Read Free Book Online Page A

essentials for living were still at hand. Pantry food only, however. “You’ve got to rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”
    Not many hours left until then. He wavered on his feet, chuckled. “Is it safe to sleep?”
    Jordan shrugged. “You don’t have a choice, do you? Keep to your own dreams tonight and you should be fine. It’s what Malcolm taught me.”
    Vince gave her a wan smile. “I’ll do that. I’m not interested in visiting the Scrape ever again.” That came out wrong. He didn’t blame her for drowning him. But then again, she didn’t look as if she felt guilty, either.
    The guest room was full of plastic storage crates, but the bed was still made. He didn’t peel back the quilt on top—the tremor was back in his hands. Jordan was safe, and that’s all that mattered. He’d found her and had somehow convinced her to accept his company. The rest would have to wait.
    He didn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opened them, the full light of day fell on a transparent crate of holiday decorations. He kept waking in strange places— Paula’s apartment, maybe? Then, Jordan .
    By the time he made it to the threshold of the bedroom door, he was sweating. Jordan sat on the large crescent-shaped sofa. She’d moved a pile of stuff to one end, everything neatly folded. She tilted her head to the side, appraising him. “You wouldn’t happen to have one thousand three hundred sixteen dollars on you, would you?”
    He blinked at her, baffled.
    She gave him a Cheshire cat smile. “If you don’t, I’ll have to go mug some more people, and I’m not sure there’s quite that much time left before we have to leave. It’s four in the afternoon. You slept for a long time.”
    Slept, maybe. He didn’t remember dreaming, just the pull of the water dragging him down, down, down.
    Wait, mug some people? He swallowed to wet his throat. “Let me think about it. I’m gonna go take a shower.” Which seemed a safe thing to say, since she wasn’t making any sense. No, that wasn’t right. She was probably making perfect sense. It was him who was different now. Hollow. Stripped. Waterlogged.
    Jordan Lane had been the last person with whom he’d been himself. Maybe she could remind him what it meant to be normal.
    The guest room had an en suite bath. He managed to take off his clothes and then got in the shower and let the water stream over his head. Usually, he woke with energy. Today, he was happy to be up and moving at all.
    When he finally reemerged, clean but dressed in his pants from yesterday and an old Giants T-shirt of Paula’s, Jordan was making coffee. The caffeine would either kill him or fuel the day; it would be interesting to discover which.
    She handed him a mug, and he remembered. “Did you say mug someone?”
    A glimmer of that smile. “I need money.”
    He guessed she was being funny. “I can get money.”
    “No banks.”
    “Fine. How much again?” He took a sip. Normal people drank coffee. Look at him being normal.
    “One thousand three hundred sixteen dollars.”
    Pretty specific number. “Can I ask why?”
    “Not yet.” Jordan lifted her own mug, but she walked around to put the counter between them. She seemed cagey, as though she was squaring off, preparing herself. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to tell you yet. But thank you for the place to stay.” She didn’t look as if she’d slept, but her eyes were clear and so piercing that he had the urge to look away.
    He sat in a wicker chair next to a tiny reading table, a wall at his back, instead. “You’re welcome here as long as you like. Paula won’t be back for a while. How about you fill me in? Maybe start with basics? I know Chimera is looking for you, which makes me think they are really looking for Malcolm Rook.” The marshal had the kind of colorful history that should’ve precluded a career in law enforcement.
    “How about I ask the questions.” She sounded as if she had them lined up in her head