Worth Dying for (A Dying for a Living Novel Book 5) Read Free Page B

as flashy as mine. She can bring the dead back to life, which is no small feat, but she’s only had to use the power once in the last few months. When Winston was killed in the crossfire, the last time I went head-to-head with Caldwell, she brought him back to life by blowing air into his nose. It’s a hell of a trick.
    I throw myself back on the bed. “You’re more than a dog walker. You’re an integral part of our plan. And you’re my secret weapon.”
    Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
    “I’ve already replaced Ally,” I go on. “Once you replace someone, it doesn’t work again. If she’s killed, I can’t save her, but you can. If I can’t save Gideon or Gloria, there’s you. You are a super-powered partis, and we need you.”
    “Do you mean it?” Her tone is hopeful for the first time. “I don’t want to be some loser damsel that you’re dragging around.”
    “I want all of us to come out of this alive.” I ruffle her hair. “Can you help me do that?”
    “Yeah, yeah.” She bats my hand away, her grin beautiful for a moment, the relief easy to read in her big, round eyes. Then her smile falters. “There can only be one partis in the end.”
    I turn away from her so she can’t read my face. Anger. Sadness. Disgust. Hope. It’s all there, I’m sure. How the hell is the kid so good at dragging all the emotions out of me at the same time? Maybe she’s got other superpowers I don’t know about and wrecking people’s emotions is one of them.
    “We’re all going to die: me, you, Rachel, dad and mom—and whoever else has powers. We’re all—”
    I cut her off. “Hopefully not for a really long time.”
    I don’t want to talk about the fact that killing her parents is on my to-do list. “Let’s worry about that later. For now, promise you’ll stick with me.”
    “Because you really need me?”
    “I really do.” This time I do let her search my face and I don’t look away. “I really don’t want you to leave, Maze.”
    The kid smiles, slow and genuine. “I’ll stay.”
    “Great, now go to sleep.” I stretch my arms overhead. The room is a little chilly so I cross to the thermostat on the wall and kick it up a couple of degrees. “We still have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, and that asshole Caldwell isn’t going to change it.”
    “You should call him Dad.” Maisie strips off her jeans and sweater, which reeks of beer and cigarette smoke from the bar, and steps into her PJs, not an ounce of bashfulness on her face. Of course, she doesn’t have an autopsy scar to be ashamed of like I do.
    “No way. Caldwell has never been a dad to me.”
    Eric Sullivan had been a great dad and I’d missed the hell out of him when he died seventeen years ago. Maisie has never met that man. She’s only known the smooth talking church leader Timothy Caldwell as her father. Rough-handed, oil-slicked mechanic Eric wouldn’t become Maisie’s dad for years after he slipped out of my life.
    Maisie doesn’t ask any more questions or press me for any more assurances. Thank god. Instead she crawls into her bed, and I lift Winston up and put him in bed with her. He bounds up and down on the pillows before turning several circles and lying down. He tucks himself into a bagel shape of pug. A loud huffing snort sounding a lot like finally escapes him.
    I stand there and watch until Maisie’s breathing deepens to a steady rhythm. I slip out of the room, but leave the door open, even though I usually close it. I don’t know why the impulse to do this is so strong. If Caldwell knew where we were, he would’ve already popped in and killed us all, so there’s no danger he’s going to pop in here and kidnap Maisie out from under me now. Still, I can’t bring myself to close the door.
    Ally is on the couch, her laptop open on her legs. I take a seat beside her.
    “Still drunk?” I ask.
    She gives me a pathetic half-smile, her brown eyes full of the low lamplight. “No,