Trace of Magic by Diana Pharaoh Francis

Author:Diana Pharaoh Francis
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781611944952
Publisher: BelleBooks, Inc.
Published: 2014-08-29T00:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN MINUTES later we were back on the snowmobile. Our hideout was a little motel in Downtown not far from the diner and Price’s precinct house. There were more signs of life now. The sounds of truck motors and snowblowers rumbled through the air, and lights gleamed from windows. I was surprised when Price pulled up on the sidewalk outside the diner.

He got off the snowmobile. I didn’t move. “What are we doing here?”

“You use this place as an office. Stands to reason you’ve got clothes stashed here. Plus we need to eat.” He held up two fingers and folded one down. “Two birds, one stone.”

I shook my head, even as my stomach growled. I would die for one of Ben’s bacon fire cheeseburgers. “I don’t want them involved in this mess. If we’re being traced, that will put them in danger.”

“Not if we eat fast and get out. As far as the Tyet knows, it’s just a place for us to eat. Besides, you didn’t leave me with another choice, so get off your ass and move it.”

I hid my smile. Fucking know-it-all. As a matter of fact, I did keep clothes here, plus some other supplies that might come in handy.

He pulled me inside, where the scents of burgers, fries, and apple pie embraced me. The bell over the door rang a warning that someone had entered. A few booths were full and four people sat at the counter. Ben looked up as we came in. He waved his spatula at me, a grin of relief and welcome splitting his ruddy cheeks wide before he scowled past me at Price. Patti was pouring coffee with her back to us.

Price guided me down to a booth in the corner by the window and pushed me down onto the seat. He sat down opposite, facing the door. About a second later, Patti came stomping down the aisle. It’s hard to stomp in platform heels. Patti has talent.

She tossed a couple of menus down on the table and slid into the booth beside me, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Are you okay? I’ve been trying to call you. Taylor is a hot mess. Called me hollering about a text you sent telling the family to clear out of town. I thought she was going pop out a hedgehog the way she was going on.” She flicked an accusing glance across the table at Price, then looked back at me. “What’s going on?”

“Riley needs some food,” he said before I could answer. “We’re in a hurry, so make it sooner rather than later. And some dry clothes. She won’t let me take her home. She’s got some here, right?”

“I don’t take orders from you,” she said with a sniff and raised painted black brows at me. “Riley?”

“I’ll tell you everything,” I said. “But Price is right.” She and I both smirked at that. “We need food, I need clothes, and we have to get going quick.” I looked at him. “When and where are we meeting this friend of yours?”

“I called her.

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