The Hollows Series Books 1-4. Kim Harrison

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СКАЧАТЬ can find your usual take at the main bus station in a locker. Keep it anonymous. My name has been in the papers too often lately.”

      Francis jumped to his feet in relief. He stepped forward as if to shake Trent’s hand, then glanced at Jonathan and backed up. “Thank you, Mr. Kalamack,” he gushed. “You won’t be sorry.”

      “I can’t imagine I would.” Trent looked at Jonathan, then the door. “Enjoy your afternoon,” he said in dismissal.

      “Yes sir. You, too.”

      I felt as if I was going to be sick as Francis bounced out of the room. Jonathan hesitated in the threshold, watching Francis make obnoxious noises at the ladies he passed in the hall.

      “Mr. Percy has made himself more of a liability than an asset,” Trent breathed tiredly.

      “Yes, Sa’han,” Jonathan agreed. “I strongly urge you to remove him from the payroll.”

      My stomach clenched. Francis didn’t deserve to die just because he was stupid.

      Trent rubbed his fingertips into his forehead. “No,” he finally said. “I’d rather keep him until I arrange for a replacement. And I may have other plans for Mr. Percy.”

      “As you like, Sa’han,” Jonathan said, and softly closed the door.

       Twenty

      “Here, Angel,” Sara Jane coaxed. A carrot wiggled through the bars of my cage. I stretched to take it before she could let it drop. Aspen chips didn’t season them at all.

      “Thanks,” I chittered, knowing she couldn’t understand me, but needing to say something regardless. The woman smiled and cautiously extended her fingers through the cage. I grazed my whiskers across them because I knew she would like it.

      “Sara Jane?” Trent questioned from his desk, and the petite woman turned with a guilty swiftness. “I employ you to manage my office affairs, not be a zookeeper.”

      “Sorry sir. I was taking the opportunity to try and rid myself of my irrational fear of vermin.” She brushed at her knee-length cotton skirt. It wasn’t as crisp or professional as her interview suit, but still new. Just what I’d expect a farm girl would wear on her first day on the job.

      I chewed ravenously on the carrot left over from Sara Jane’s lunch. I was starving, since I refused to eat those stale pellets. What’s the matter, Trent? I thought between chews. Jealous?

      Trent adjusted his glasses and returned his attention to his papers. “When you’re through ridding yourself of your irrational fears, I’d like you to go down to the library.”

      “Yes sir.”

      “The librarian has collated some information for me. But I want you to screen it for me. Bring up what you think is most pertinent.”

      “Sir?”

      Trent set down his pen. “Information regarding the sugar beet industry.” He smiled with a genuine warmth. I wondered if he had a patent on it. “I may be branching out in that direction, and need to learn enough to make an informed decision.”

      Sara Jane beamed, tucking her fair hair behind an ear in pleased embarrassment. Obviously she guessed Trent might be buying the farm her family was serfed upon. You’re a smart woman, I thought darkly. Follow it down. Trent will own your family. You’d be his, body and soul.

      She turned back to my cage and dropped a last celery stick. Her smile faded. Worry creased her brow. It would have looked endearing on her childlike face, except the woman’s family was in real danger. She took a breath to say something, then closed her mouth. “Yes sir,” she said, her eyes distant. “I’ll bring the information up right away.”

      Sara Jane closed the door as she left, her footsteps sounding slow in the hallway.

      Trent gave his door a suspicious glance as he reached for his cup of tea: Earl Grey, no sugar or milk. If he followed yesterday’s pattern, it would be phone conversations and paperwork from three until seven, when the few people he kept late went home. I imagined it was easier to run illegal drugs from your office when no one was around to see you.

      Trent had returned that afternoon from his three-hour lunch break with his wispy hair freshly combed and smelling of the outdoors. He had been decidedly refreshed. If I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed he spent his midday break napping in his back office.

      Why not? I thought as I stretched out on the hammock my cell had come with. He was wealthy enough to set his own hours.

      I yawned, my eyes slipping shut. It was the second day of my captivity, and I was quite sure it wouldn’t be my last. I had spent last night thoroughly investigating my cage, only to find that it was Rachel proof. It had been designed for ferrets, and the two-story wire cage was surprisingly secure. My hours spent prying at the seams left me bone tired. It was pleasant to do nothing. My hope that Jenks or Ivy might rescue me was thin. I was on my own. And it might be a while before I managed to convey to Sara Jane that I was a person and get out of there.

      I cracked an eyelid as Trent rose from his desk and strode restlessly to his music discs arranged in a recessed shelf beside the player. He cut a nice figure as he stood before them, so intent on his choice that he didn’t realize I was rating his backside: 9.5 out of 10. I took the .5 off for most of his physique being hidden behind a business suit that cost more than some cars.

      I’d gotten another yummy look at him last night when he took off his jacket after everyone went home. The man had a very strong back. Why he kept it hidden behind that jacket was both a mystery and a crime. His tight stomach was even better. He had to work out, though I don’t know where he found the time. I would have given anything to see him in a bathing suit—or less. His legs had to be just as muscular, being the expert rider he was reputed to be. And if it sounded like I was a sex-starved nympho … Well, I didn’t have anything to do but watch him.

      Trent had worked long after sunset yesterday, seemingly alone in the silent building. The only light had been from that fake window. It slowly paled as the sun went down, mirroring the natural light outside until he clicked on the desk lamp. I had caught myself drowsing several times, waking up when he turned a page or the printer hummed to life. He hadn’t quit until Jonathan came by to remind him to eat. I guess he earned his money, same as I did. ’Course, he had two jobs, being a reputable businessman and drug lord both. Probably filled up one’s day right nicely.

      My hammock swayed as I watched Trent choose a disc. It spun up, and the soft cadence of drums drifted into existence. Eyeing me, Trent adjusted his gray linen suit and smoothed his wispy hair as if daring me to say anything. I gave him a sleepy thumbs-up, and his frown deepened. It wasn’t the stuff I liked, but it was okay. This was older, carrying a forgotten sound of bound intensity, of lost sorrow chained to stir the soul. It wasn’t half bad.

      I could get used to this, I mused as I carefully stretched my healing body. I hadn’t slept this well since I quit the I.S. It was ironic that here, in a cage in a drug lord’s office, I was safe from my I.S. death threat.

      Trent settled himself back at his work, his pen occasionally accompanying the drums as he paused in thought. Obviously this was one of his favorites. I slipped in and out of sleep as the afternoon wore on, СКАЧАТЬ