The Scarlet Crane: Transition Magic Book One (The Transition Magic Series 1) Read Online Free Page B

bread.”
    Her mother didn’t answer, her sweaty face vacant as if she’d retreated within herself.
    A small man in a dark suit and open white shirt approached them. “I’m Pastor Vasily Chuikov. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
    Anya repeated what she’d told the woman who answered the door.
    Pastor Chuikov leaned toward them and began firing questions, making each of them answer in turn. Names? Where from? How old? Were they religious? He didn’t ask about alcohol. Anya figured he’d was leaning forward so that he could sniff their breath.
    We stink so bad that won’t tell him much.
    The pastor finished his interrogation and straightened his shoulders. “You’re in luck. Several people left today and it’s early. We haven’t filled up yet.”
    He’s going to let us stay?
    “I’ll permit you to remain with us for up to a week. We provide two meals: breakfast and dinner. There are no men here, other than me, and no boys over 12. But you must follow our rules. No alcohol. No drugs. No fighting. You’ll have to shower tonight and every two days for as long as you stay. And you’ll have to sleep separately—we don’t allow adults and children in the same sleeping rooms.”
    Anya recalled the sharp sting of her mother’s slap.
    Fine with me.
    “You can stay here during the day or go out. If you do go out, you have to be back by six. No one is allowed in after six.”
    He looked at Anya. “How long have you been in Transition, child?” Hard to keep Transition a secret with lavender eyes.
    “About three weeks.”
    “Twelve is late for Transition, you know. Perhaps due to your nutrition. Anyone talked with you about it? About the risks?”
    “No.”
    Her education about Transition came from the streets. She knew she’d have to say certain words to make Transition magic work. She didn’t know what they were.
    Will he teach me how to use magic?
    “I’ll sit down with you first thing in the morning and have a talk. Transition can be very dangerous.”
    Shit. Doesn’t sound like it.
    The squat old lady returned, along with another woman in green pants and jacket with a white shirt.
    “Anya, go with tetya Masha to get cleaned up and get your dorm assignment.” The pastor nodded to the babushka, who reached out to take her hand.
    He looked at her mom. “Please go with my wife.” He nodded to the woman in the jacket.
    Later that night Anya lay in her bunk listening to the soft, deep breathing of the other girls in the dorm. Safe, full, warm and clean. And too excited to sleep. She’d seen three other kids in Transition, more than she’d ever seen in one place. Maybe one of them would know the words.
    This is my best chance.
     

Washington, D.C
    The United States
    John snapped awake at four a.m. He wanted to get to Joint Base Andrews early. The FBI tech team was more likely to speculate before the Director arrived. He showered, called the desk for a cab, and headed out after grabbing a cup of black coffee from the hotel’s cafe. The cab dropped him at the main gate a little after six. A slurry of rain and snow was falling. He felt like he could poke the clouds with his cane and provoke a storm at will.
    He cleared security without challenge, although the guards gathered around to inspect his cane. Not so much for its potential as a weapon—although noted and appreciated—as for its totally badass dragon’s head.
    Bentley had arranged for a base hangar to receive the container from Hanoi. John called and asked for a car to take him there. Agent Stony Hill soon pulled up to the gate, driving a gray military pool car. He climbed in, and she headed back along Perimeter Drive toward a distant group of massive buildings.
    “Good to see you, Dish,” she said. “Overheard your call and volunteered to pick you up.”
    “Appreciate it. Is Marva already here?”
    “Nope. I wanted to get a head start. You know how the tech guys can be; won’t talk much with the brass around. And our beloved Director is