The Angel of Death (The Soul Summoner Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

buy you lunch.”
    I didn’t have time for lunch, but nothing in me wanted to argue. He opened the passenger side door, and I climbed in and rested my forehead against the dashboard. He got in and cranked the engine, peeling his tires as he exited the parking lot. When we were a safe distance away, my heart rate slowed to normal. I sat back in my seat and opened my eyes.
    “I’m sorry. I had to leave,” I said.
    He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t think it through before calling you.”
    I turned toward him. “What was that thing?”
    He shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me. Deputies brought her in this morning. They called me when she kept rattling on about you. No name, no ID. Nobody even knows what language she’s speaking.”
    My stomach felt sick. “You’ve heard it before. I’m pretty sure that’s my demon mom’s language.”
    “You think so?”
    I was still panting. “Yeah. And I don’t understand much Latin, but I think whatever she was saying had something to do with someone dying.” I tapped my chest. “Probably me.”
    He scowled. “Don’t talk like that.” He jerked his thumb back toward the building. “Do you think she’s like you and Warren?”
    I looked over at him. “Maybe. Or she could be like Abigail.”
    He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Do you think there’s a chance she could be Abigail?”
    I cringed at the thought. I’d watched the body the world knew as Abigail Smith turn to dust, but the angel Samael had told us she would procure another body. I chewed on my fingernail. “Abigail doesn’t strike me as the type to allow herself to be locked up.”
    He nodded. “I thought the same thing. That’s the only reason I even considered letting you near her.” He leaned toward his door and wedged his hand into his pocket. He produced his cell phone and handed it to me. “Look in my photo gallery.”
    After a moment of searching, I navigated my way to the pictures on his phone. I saw my own face before I saw anything else. There was a succession of photos of me making funny faces that I’d taken one night when Nathan left his phone lying on my sofa. It had been weeks before, and he hadn’t deleted them.  
    “Check the folder called ‘work’ in the gallery list,” he said, snapping me back to reality.
    I tapped the work folder open, and immediately cringed at the sight of blood. “Eww.”
    “Look at the first few,” he insisted. “That’s what’s under those bandages on that girl.”
    It took me a second to figure out I was looking at pictures of the red-head’s forearms. Two different words were written on…no carved into her arms. The first one was a little hard to read. “Kot… kotailis ?” I asked, looking over at him. “Is that what it says?”
    He shrugged. “I’m not sure, but that’s what it looks like.”
    “What does it mean?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t know that either. Could be something from a video game. Could be an online company in the UK. Could be crazy-person-speak for ‘let’s give McNamara a headache.’ Beats me.”
    My bottom lip poked out as I looked at the second word. “Nathan, why does she have my name carved into her arm?”
    He cringed and turned his palm up. “Sorry. I’m striking out with answers today.” He held out his hand for his phone, and I gave it to him. “Is there any way I can get the info on her to Warren? I’d like him to see it.”
    I sighed and shook my head. “Nope. He called this morning. He’s officially on his way to wherever they’re sending him.”
    His face twisted into a frown. “That sucks. How are you doing with it?”
    I shrugged my shoulders. “I hate it, but we knew it was coming sooner or later.”
    He pointed his finger down the road ahead. “Want to blow off work and go to the bar?”
    “As tempting as that sounds, I can’t” ... because I’m pregnant, I silently added. I rested my head back against the seat, and the cloth ceiling of