Mine (The Lair of the Wolven #3) Read Online J.R. Ward

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: The Lair of the Wolven Series by J.R. Ward
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
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The path he was looking for, the one that led to the rushing water, presented itself, and he was careful not to slip and fall when the embankment started on a jagged descent. Grabbing on to branches, he kept himself upright and emerged at the rocky shore. Ahead of him, the gently flowing current gleamed as it moved peacefully along, and he looked both ways. There was cloud cover overhead, and he was glad for it. His clothes were dark and he wanted to blend in as much as he could.

Heading to the left, he shambled downstream, wondering how far to go. A rotten picnic table on a flat-backed boulder answered the question, and as he came up to it, he imagined salmon fishermen sitting on the gap-toothed top, casting translucent lines into spring-flood rushes. Following the ghost of their example, he planted his bony ass on the upper deck, and rested his boots on the seat panel.

He checked his phone again. “Come on… ring. Fuck—”

As if his impatience had played operator, the burner let out an electronic brrrrrrrrrrrring, and he snatched the cell right up into position.

“We’re both still alive,” he said roughly, by way of greeting. “Who’da thunk it.”

There was a long silence before a male voice said, “Is this really who I think it is?”

“Yeah, it is.” He brushed a stick off his pants. “How you doing, Rubik?”

“Ah, I’m good.” Another pause. “I’m… well, I’m surprised to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I figured. But remember that favor you owe me?”

After another pause, there was the sound of a throat getting cleared. “Yes, I do. Of course I do.”

“I wasn’t sure whether you’d kept this phone.”

“Always, Danny. Ah, what can I do to help you? Do you need money—a place to stay or—”

“Nah, it’s nothing like that, but thanks, my man. I’m just going to send you some pictures.”

“What… kind of pictures?”

“Nothing that’ll get you in trouble with the law. I know where you work, I’m very aware of where all those brains of yours have taken you. I just need you to tell me if you’ve ever seen something like this before.”

“How do you know where I work?”

“I went up in this world, too, as it turned out.” Daniel lowered the phone, and did the deed. “Okay, they’re going through. It may take a little bit. I’m in the sticks.”

“What happened to you, Danny? I mean, if you know where I ended up… where did you go?”

For a moment, the past came rushing back, and the memories were crystal clear. After Daniel’s mother had jumped off a bridge to get away from him and the life they were living, he had been left alone at fourteen. Fuck foster care. And besides, learning to survive on the streets had been a training and proving ground for what lay ahead for him in the military—and then later in Blade’s happy troupe of troublemakers. Oh, the places you’ll go? Yeah, he’d seen a lot, and not much of it good—and didn’t that make someone stick to themselves.

Unfortunately—fortunately?—every once in a while, in the midst of his own survival-of-the-fittest drama, he’d found himself drawn into someone else’s problems.

Like that of Rubik Cube, and his little sister, Annie.

Tim was Rubik’s real name. No last name. He’d been a runner for a mob bookie because he was a human calculator who’d also been able to keep every one of the clients’ bets and outcomes in his head.

No pesky paper trails.

No clue how Rubik and Annie had ended up homeless, but one night, Annie had been attacked, and Rubik, at five feet eight inches and one hundred and forty pounds soaking wet in sweats, hadn’t been fast or strong enough to defend his sister.

Daniel had been.

He’d saved both of them from the pimp who’d decided a fifteen-year-old Annie could be put to better uses than in the rotation of women’s shelters she’d bounced around while her brother had survived sleeping out.

“Hello?” Rubik prompted. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He snapped back to attention. “And to answer your question, I’ve been here, there. Everywhere. You know the drill.”

“Oh, okay—hey, they’ve come through—hold on.”

There was a rustling. Then Daniel could have sworn he heard a soft gasp. After which, he ripped the unit away from his ear as a crashing sound blared into his brain.

Like the phone on the other end had been fumbled and dropped.

“You okay there, Rubik—”

“Where did you get these?” came the breathy demand.

“So you’ve seen something like it before? What can you tell me about—”

“This is proprietary technology. There should be no photographs of this unit ever—but the background isn’t my facility. I don’t understand how you have this outside of my team at MIT?”

Annnnnd there it was.

Talk about your success stories, Rubik had gone from the streets to the highest echelons of education: The shit with Annie had scared him so badly, Rubik had quit it with the mob, and gotten the two of them into the proper foster care system. Only one year for him, but he’d used it wisely, acing his GED classes, writing a helluva essay, getting a full ride to MIT—where he’d stayed for the last almost two decades. And Annie had ended up okay, too.


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