Dire Straits by C.P. Rider EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: C.P. Rider
- Language: English
- Genre: Paranormal Werewolves & Shifters Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I WAS BORN A SIREN, A PARANORMAL WITH A POWERFUL VOICE THAT
could sing a person to sleep—or death—and these days, trouble trailed me
like a wolf on a scent.
Despite that, Mom had asked me to come home for her birthday.
And I had.
However, I couldn’t help but worry that I was doing the wrong thing.
I slouched at the breakfast counter and stared into my cold cup of
coffee. “Santa Fe” by Fruition played over the speaker system. The song
was soft and wistful and lulling. I empathized with the feeling of wanting to
return to New Mexico. As much as I loved my mom and my Arizona
hometown, I didn’t feel good here—didn’t feel right.
Then again, after the day I’d had, I was finding it difficult to feel
anything at all.
Disappointment in the witches soaked into me. “I thought we were
“It’s not personal,” Doug said.
“You’re sending me to my death. That seems pretty godsdamned
“No,” Willie said, and not to me. “I won’t do it. This is wrong, Doug.”
“She’s an abomination. Her existence spits in the eyes of the gods.”
Doug shrieked and clawed at his chest. “What are you doing, you
demon bitch? Stop—”
I jerked myself out of the nightmare memory and bolted upright on my
stool, sloshing cold coffee onto the counter. “Yes?”
Noah gently nudged me. “Hey, Mom’s moving us to a booth.”
“You’ll be more comfortable over here.” Pheenie blew a dark-brown,
bouncy curl out of her eyes and adjusted her headband as she ushered our
group—Juan, Griffin, Noah, Willie, and me—to a roomy booth by the door.
Pheenie’s Diner was a throwback to diners of the mid-twentieth century.
The hot rods and carhops were long gone, but the black-and-white checked
floor and red-and-white vinyl booths remained. The only thing that had
changed style over the years was the sign on the roof. It was still black and
white with teal lettering, but in neon instead of painted plywood.
“Thanks, Mom,” Noah said.
“Yes, thank you, Mom.”
“It’s no trouble.” Pheenie was in her mid-fifties and looked younger. She
was fine-boned and petite with vibrant brown eyes, golden-brown skin, and
a welcoming smile.
Gods, I’d missed her smile.
“I’ll get you all some refills on those coffees.” She patted my arm and
smiled at Griffin, who smiled back. “And another tea?”
“Yes, please,” the mage said.
“Sorry about the bags,” she said. “I’ll be sure to have my personal blend
of loose leaf ready for the next time you come in.”
The guys slid onto the vinyl corner booth seat. I remained standing. My
knees were shaky, my stomach churned, and my head felt light and heavy at
the same time. I braced myself mentally for the events of the day to come
crashing down on me again.
Events of the day? Makes it sound like I attended a wedding. I killed
Doug. That’s not an event, that’s a crime. That’s a soul-deep existence
Willie bent over his untouched mug of coffee. He looked to be in his
mid-to-late seventies, though witches lived long lives, so he could’ve been
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