Otherworld 02 - Stolen by Kelley Armstrong Read Free Book Online Page A

behind."
    "Paige told me what happened," Ruth said. "We're very grateful. Also very impressed. You have excellent reflexes."
    "Self-defense classes," I said.
    "Still not admitting to the werewolf thing?" Paige asked.
    I walked to the bathroom and held open the door. "Either of you ever see this guy before? Don't touch anything. The cops will dust for prints."
    "Cops?" Paige repeated.
    "Yes, cops. Who do you think will handle the murder investigation? Hotel security?"
    "Murder? You mean he's dead?"
    "No. He's resting comfortably," I said. "People always sleep best with their heads at a ninety-degree angle. He looks comfortable, doesn't he?"
    "There's no need for sarcasm," Paige said tightly. "Maybe you're used to hauling corpses around, but I'm not."
    "Sheltered life. You're supposed to be a witch and you've never had to kill anyone?"
    Paige's voice tightened another notch. "We use alternate methods of defense."
    "Like what? Cast a spell to make your attackers think happy thoughts? Turn their guns into flowers? Peace and love for all?"
    "I'd have used a binding spell," Paige said. "Kept the guy alive so we could question him. Wow. There's a novel idea. If you hadn't killed him, maybe we could have talked to him."
    "Oh, that's right. Paige's ultra-efficient binding spell. Tell you what. Next time I see a guy pointing a gun at you, I'll let you do things your way. You start your invocation and see if you can finish before he guns you down. Deal?"
    Paige lifted the gun, opened it, removed a tranquilizer dart, and held it up. "No one wanted to kill me."
    "Are you sure about that?" a male voice asked.
    Paige and I jumped. Even Ruth looked up, startled. In the corner of the bedroom stood a man dressed in the same black fatigues as the dead man on the floor. He was of average height and weight, with average brown hair cut short but not military short. Only one distinguishing feature-a paper-thin scar running from temple to nose-assured me I'd never seen this man before. I glanced toward the hall door. It was still closed and locked. Paige's change of clothing lay undisturbed in front of it. So how'd this guy get in?
    "I'm glad to hear you wouldn't have killed poor Mark," the man said, sitting on the edge of the bed, stretching his legs and crossing his ankles. "Very sporting of you. I guess what they say about witches is true. So selfless, so concerned for others, so unbelievably naive."
    I stepped toward him.
    "Don't! "Paige hissed.
    "This is the werewolf?" The man turned dirt-brown eyes on me in a smirking once-over. "Better than I expected. So, are you coming along, wolf-girl? Or do things have to get"-his smirk broadened to a grin-"physical."
    I glanced at Paige and Ruth.
    "Oh, they're coming too," the man said. "But I'm not worried about them. Only witches, you know. They'll do what they're told."
    Paige made a noise in her throat, but Ruth laid a restraining hand on her arm.
    "So you're kidnapping us?" I asked.
    The man yawned. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"
    "What's in it for you?" Paige asked.
    "See?" The man looked at me. "That's witches for you. Make me feel guilty. Appeal to my kinder, gentler side. Which might work, if I had one."
    "So you're working for Ty Winsloe?" I said.
    "Oh, come on, ladies. As much as I'd love to chat about my motivations and the Yankees' chances at the World Series-"
    I lunged at him, sailing the five feet between us. My hands went out, ready to catch him in the chest and topple him backward. But they didn't. Instead I hit empty air and tumbled onto the bed, twisting fast to right myself before the counterattack. It didn't come. I whirled around to see the man standing by the bedroom door, the same bored expression on his face.
    "Is that the best you can do?" He sighed. "Major disappointment."
    I advanced on him, slowly, eyes locked on his. When I was close enough to hear his heartbeat, I stopped. He grinned again and his eyes sparked with boyish anticipation, like a kid impatient for the game to