Phoenix Feather Read Online Free Page A

time?”
    Aidan sat on the couch. Phoebe and Chris Anders were twins and one of those examples of the strange phenomenon that can occur between siblings separated by minutes. They shared an apartment, a university, and friends. They were so close that someone could not be a good friend with one and not the other. Aidan trusted no two people more.
    “Aidan, what’s wrong?” Chris asked, and took a seat on the sofa across from her.
    She took a deep breath and told them what she had learned about Jenny. It was awkward and unpleasant, and it amazed Aidan how easily people objectified historical deaths just because they had no personal connection to them.
    “I can’t believe it,” Phoebe said, sinking down next to Chris. He put his arms around her.
    “What do the police think?” he asked. He knew Jenny from the English department, though they hadn’t been close. Detective McCain might call to ask Chris questions as well.
    “I don’t know,” Aidan replied. “He didn’t seem to want to tell me anything.”
    “Are you a suspect?” Phoebe gasped.
    “No.” The detective had been cautious at first, as was his job, but he didn’t interrogate her. “He wanted to know about ex-boyfriends, but I couldn’t help him. All I really knew about her was her favorite books and quotes.”
    Phoebe shook her head. “She was on her way to meet us…”
    Aidan stared at the floor. It was like with Ivar. One day they were together, happy, and the next he was gone, killed in an accident. There was no goodbye, no seeing him off to whatever the next world had in store for him—something Aidan would never know. Then there was a sense of regret. She wished she had gotten to know Jenny better. A thousand years from now, Aidan would be the only one left who would remember, but all she had was trivial snippets of a deeper life.
    “Oh,” Phoebe groaned. “Those jokes we made. They weren’t mean, but—but we were laughing at her when she was possibly dying.” Tears swam in the corners of her eyes.
    Chris stood up. “Okay, guys, I think you need to get off this couch and do something. How about we go out and remember Jenny the way she was?”
    Aidan couldn’t help but smile. It was as the ancient warriors used to do: celebrate the life and death of a fallen comrade. “I’ll call the other girls from the book club.”
    “Coffee,” Phoebe spoke up. “We should go for fancy coffee.”
    Aidan nodded. “Jenny would like that.”

 
    Chapter Three
     
     
     
     
     
    Jenny was in the paper the following week, a nameless column on page five: “Police Still Have No Leads in Recent Murder.” Detective McCain had called Aidan again to see if she had thought of anything new. He seemed desperate for something to go on. Aidan had nothing to give him, no clues as to why. No, Aidan was ready to accept that it was a random act of human nature, a statistic to be added to the millions that had come before.
    She wiped down the bar in the predawn hour before the morning rush. The doors opened and the sound of voices disturbed the vacant silence. Aidan turned to greet them.
    “Good morning,” one of them said, and flashed her a bright smile.
    “Good morning,” she replied, surprised to see the fireman again. He was with two other firemen this morning, and she could see an engine truck outside taking up three parking spaces. “To-go?”
    Trent chuckled. “Table.”
    She led them to a booth and handed out menus. They ordered coffee, and she grabbed a fresh pot from the machine and filled their cups.
    “I thought firemen made their own meals at the firehouse.” She cast a covert glance Trent’s way.
    “Yes, but we were headed out this way anyway to do inspections,” he replied.
    “Though it could have waited another hour,” one of his companions muttered. Brown hair stuck out at odd ends and a five o’clock shadow made the guy look like a rather scrappy firefighter. “Keep the coffee coming.”
    “I wanted to beat the morning