Red Night ((Book 1) Timewalker Chronicles) Read Free Page B

papers flipped onto the floor. She loosened all the adjustment knobs on his brown leather chair when he bent to retrieve them, so he was simultaneously dropped several inches and flipped back into a reclined position when he sat back down. Leaning in close to smell him again, she blew in his ear. The line of his tall frame beckoned her and she and imagined herself on his lap. Now, that situation had definite possibilities.
    Luke got up, fixed his chair, sat down, and stared, dumbfounded, at his computer screen again. “All right. Enough.” With an impatient shove, he closed the laptop and slammed it into its case. He grabbed a couple of periodicals off his desk and headed for the door.
    Alexa would have jumped for joy, but she barely had the energy to keep up as his much-longer legs ate up the distance between the building and his black vehicle. The door said Cherokee, and for a fleeting instant she wondered if the Nation of United Tribes had started producing vehicles. This world was so like her own, and so not home.
    She waited until he had the driver’s door open to knock the magazines out of his hand. While he retrieved them, she crawled over the front seats and into the back. The moment the engine came to life she curled into a ball, prayed he wouldn’t find her, and allowed exhaustion to overcome her.
    When she awoke, she knew two things. It was dark. And she needed food. Her hunger went beyond the normal twinge of the stomach. The searing hunger pangs spread to her entire body, made every muscle quiver. She crawled into the back seat and looked around. She was in a garage. There was enough room for another vehicle, but parked there instead was a motorcycle with the words “Harley Davidson” on its side and several different styles of bicycles. A row of small windows stretched across the large door. Beyond them night had fallen.
    A quick glance at Tinkerbelle’s green glowing dial assured her the day was gone. Ten o’clock. Time was racing. The Red Death would soon be waving the final flag.
    There was a single door she prayed led into his house. She grasped the door handle and breathed a sigh of relief when it turned easily in her hand. “Ready or not, here I come.”
    He was still awake. A light was on and background noise came from the other side of the house. She didn’t care. All she cared about was food. If she didn’t eat soon, the whole world could self-destruct and she wouldn’t even notice. Her mother had always laughed at times like this, when she’d nearly gone mad with hunger after practicing her cloaking. Dad had accused her of being unreasonable and grumpy. Well, yeah. So, what? A girl couldn’t save the world on an empty stomach. But it wasn’t just her stomach that screamed for food. Her entire body felt hollow, like someone had sucked the marrow from her bones while she slept.
    One more tiny problem. She didn’t have enough energy left to hide her presence. The floor dipped and spun under her tennis shoes. Her stomach rolled and threatened the plush green carpeting in the hallway with a nasty deposit. “Damn.” The whispered curse flew from her lips before she thought to stop it.
    Leaning heavily against the wall, she felt her way down the dark hallway. The flickering of his television lights allowed her to find the kitchen.
    The kitchen was separated from the other room by a row of cabinets on the floor and a chest high tile countertop bar and eating area. If she crouched below the bar level she wouldn’t be seen. She was nearly too hungry to care. As quietly as possible, she eased open several cabinet doors until she found something edible. She examined the blue liquid in an unopened bottle that said “Gatorade”. After a quick glance at the label, she decided it wouldn’t kill her, and promptly drained it dry.
    Her entire body sighed in relief as the sugar rush surged through her bloodstream. The stainless steel refrigerator door beckoned her from where she sat slumped on the