Falling Light (A Game of Shadows Novel)

Falling Light (A Game of Shadows Novel) by Thea Harrison

Book: Falling Light (A Game of Shadows Novel) by Thea Harrison Read Free Book Online
Authors: Thea Harrison
store at one end of a strip mall. Then he put the Jeep into park. With the engine idling, he crossed his arms over the top of the steering wheel and leaned forward to rest his chin on them. His light eyes moved over the scene.
    She waited, her gaze moving from Michael to the nearby shops and the traffic that sped past them. Finally, she asked, “What now, Mister Enigmatic?”
    “You keep calling me that,” he murmured. Thoughts shifted behind those steely eyes.
    “I don’t mean it in a bad way,” she told him. She grinned. “Not anymore. I’m getting used to you turning all silent and mysterious. I think more caffeine might be a good idea. Do you mind if I buy more Coke while you use your spidey sense or inner periscope, or whatever it is that you’ve got?”
    She gestured to the vending machines located outside the liquor store.
    He swept the parking lot and the immediate area again with that sharp, assessing gaze. “Okay.”
    “Want one?”
    “Sure.”
    She dug in her purse for change, climbed out of the Jeep and walked the short distance to the vending machines. Gray clouds mottled the sky. The temperature had turned sharp and chilly, while a brisk breeze blew off the nearby Lake and tugged at loose tendrils of her hair. She had been uncomfortable earlier in the heat of the day, but now she was grateful she was wearing the flannel shirt.
    Her nerves jangled from the turmoil she sensed in the psychic realm. She felt exposed standing outside, even though she knew Michael was not more than thirty feet away and aware of her every move. Getting the Coke had been as much an act of bravado as practicality, but the small sanctuary of the Jeep suddenly seemed too far away. She grabbed the two cans and jogged back.
    Once she’d climbed back inside, Michael said, “I’m sensing psychic movement in the direction of all the northern towns and cities, especially the closest ones—Petoskey, Charlevoix, Norwood and Traverse City. He’s concentrating on the ports. I’ll bet that all the local airports and landing strips are being watched too. There’s also a concentration of some kind of energy mass on I-75, in the direction of the Mackinac Bridge. He will have set up a roadblock on the bridge.”
    Her stomach muscles tightened as a now-familiar sense of dread washed over her. The five-mile-long Mackinac Bridge spanned the Straits of Mackinac. It was the only route they could travel by car to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. A roadblock on I-75 meant they had been correct. The Deceiver did have powerful contacts in the police force. They had already been acting as if he had, but somehow it seemed worse to have their deductions confirmed.
    “He’s done all of that already?” she asked in dismay. “It’s barely been twelve hours since we left the cabin.”
    Michael shook his head. “I’ll bet a lot of this is something he set in motion earlier. It’s what I would have done if I were chasing someone who appeared to be traveling north on 131. It’s a logical strategy. Work to cut off the exit points, then quarter the area and search section by section.”
    They fell silent for a few moments. She asked, “What about that thing you can do—the null space?”
    “That will get us farther than we could get without it,” he replied. “But it won’t get us past any roadblocks.”
    She stuffed his can of Coke into a drink holder. “I guess this might be the worse-before-it-gets-better part.”
    “Something like that.” He rubbed his eyes. He looked as tired as she felt.
    “Where are we trying to go, anyway?” she asked. “I keep meaning to ask, but then something happens.”
    Michael pointed in a northwestern direction. “Right about there. You know where Beaver Island is?”
    “I have a rough idea,” she said. Beaver Island was located almost directly north from Grand Traverse Bay and south of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. If she remembered right, it was barely more than a one-town island. She’d always

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