Owl and the City of Angels by Kristi Charish Read Free Book Online

impact, would it?
    There was another bang at my door, followed by someone trying to turn the handle and force it open. Thank God the chair held. I reached for the awning again, standing as far on the tips of my toes as I dared. Goddamn it, why the hell couldn’t I be an inch taller? I’d have to jump it.
    As if knowing what I planned, Captain let out a shrill whimper. “We’re not jumping, we’re climbing,” I said, putting more confidence into the words than I felt, as if saying it convincingly enough made it true.
    Just don’t look down, Owl. And with a silent Hail Mary, I jumped for the awning.
    My fingers gripped the wood rail, and I pulled myself up. I heard the door inside my room crack while my feet still dangled outside the window.
    Adrenaline coursed through me. I edged my feet to the side of the building and out of view as the door gave, then I scrambled up onto the roof.
    Like most median-income buildings in Alexandria, the hostel roof was made of red mud brick and exposed rebar protruding at various intervals—part property-tax shelter, part keeping your building expansion options open. I ran to the side that bordered a narrow alley. On the neighboring building there was a fire escape ladder within reach.
    The IAA suits’ voices carried to the roof.
    “—potential suspect on foot, may be headed your way, team five—”
    They’d found my open window. I didn’t wait around to hear more. Not one to look a minor miracle in the mouth, I threw myself at the ladder and straddled between the two buildings. The metal groaned against its mud-brick-buried hinges . . . Don’t look down, Alix, you don’t need to see how high up you are . . .
    I looked down. The street was a lot farther away than I thought it’d be. Damn it, I hate heights. There’s a video game involving a lot of leaping between high buildings I avoid for that very reason. Captain mreowled in his carrier.
    “Yeah, I think this is a stupid idea, too, but it’s the only one we have right now.” I was about to start climbing down when I heard the door crash open in the room directly below me. A few feet down was another window, albeit smaller, but still easy to spot me through.
    I changed direction as fast as my feet would take me and threw myself onto the roof as I heard an agent fumble with the window catch. I pulled my feet over the edge and peeked back down in time to see an agent stick his head out.
    “No sign of her out here. Head up to the roof, I’ll stay here—”
    Praise be to Egypt’s loose building codes, I was able to jump two more roofs and one balcony before I ran out of leaping-distance options. I searched for a way down and found an alleyside balcony about six feet below me with a clothesline strung between it and the next building that I guessed would hold me for the remaining two-story drop to the ground . . . or break as soon as I put any weight on it.
    At this point I’d take whatever the hell I could get. Besides, from the increased volume of screaming and breaking glass, the protest-turned-riot was close on my heels. It was get on the ground now, or get trapped on the roof between the IAA and the mob.
    I lowered myself over the edge and braced for the six-foot drop to the balcony . . .
    I heard the distinct chime of my phone. I swore, wishing I’d had the brains to turn the damn ringer off. Captain mewed, loud and baleful.
    “You adding to the noise isn’t helping,” I told him as I dropped down and checked my cell—in part to silence it, but also to see who the hell it was.
    Rynn.
    Damn it, not the time for an update. At least that was a good indication we were still on versus off . . . despite Egypt . . . and provided he never found out about Algeria . . .
    “I’m out—” I started.
    “What the hell did you just do?”
    I paused. Answering questions like that with Rynn was tricky. “OK, I thought we’d come to an agreement about you asking me things you really don’t want to know