Eye of the Sh*t Storm Jackson Ford (detective books to read txt) 📖

the two men. Leo balls his tiny hands into fists.

“Leo, come on,” Nic says.

“Hey, Lars,” says the guy in the white T. “What we got going on here?”

Lars – Fire Hydrant – scratches his jaw. “Just some tourists. Move the fuck on, tourists.”

“I’ll zap you!” Leo yells at him. He lurches forward, dropping to his knees and putting his hands on the ground, his face twisted in concentration. Problem is, he still has the wiggles – his hand is twitching like crazy. So, as you’d expect, absolutely nothing happens.

“Uh, OK,” says Lars.

With a strangled howl, Leo leaps up, and bolts towards them. Before we can do anything, he leapfrogs the Jack Russell, and slams into Lars, planting his hands on the man’s thigh. He must have the tiniest bit of juice now, because Lars jerks, jittering backwards and clapping his hands to the spot Leo tagged. “Ah! Shit. What the hell?”

The thin man reaches over and give the kid a massive shove. Leo goes sprawling, thudding into the dirt.

Welp. Guess we’re involved now.

I step forward, a serene smile on my face. “Hi. I’m Teagan.”

Lars grins right back. “Hey, little girl.”

“Oh, we’re doing the little girl thing. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

“Teagan,” Annie growls. She steps in front of me, getting between me and Lars. The dog is going nuts.

Suit-and-tie makes a move. He tries to shove Lars’ partner, but the guy just bats him away, reaching down for the knife. Which I grab hold of with my PK and jerk it out of his hand.

“The fuck?” he says, as it clatters to the ground

Annie and Nic are both staring at me in horror.

I twitch the knife where it lies on the ground. Little movements, nothing crazy. Just when the dude’s fingers touch the knife. He probably thinks something weird is going on – scratch that, he definitely thinks something weird is going on – but to everybody not in the Teagan Circle of Friendship and Awesomeness, it just looks like he has butterfingers.

“Hell is wrong with you?” Lars steps backwards, reaching down for the skittering knife.

“Problem?” I say, as I skitter the knife out of the man’s grip once again. He actually hesitates before going for it, like it’s a snake that may or may not be poisonous. His eyes are huge, the confusion and horror written on his face.

Leo snaps that amazing smile at me. This time, I snap one right back.

Lars spins, as if looking for an attacker. His piggy little eyes settle on me, and he charges.

I raise an eyebrow. I can’t grab his Timbs – they’re rubber and suede, organic material, which is a little beyond me right now. What I can grab are the metal shoelace eyelets. Grab them, yank them backwards. Which means dear old Lars goes ass over tits. He whuffs, the air knocked out of his lungs, rolling over and curling into a foetal position.

All at once, the thin man decides he’s had enough. He stops going for the knife, straightens up, bolts towards us. He leapfrogs the trembling Lars, shoving past Nic, heading back down the path the way we came. The dog sends a few yaps at his retreating back, as if telling him that he’d better run.

I give Lars a shove with my foot, just like he did the dog. He stumbles, nearly falls over as he staggers between Nic and Annie to the river. Then he turns, steadies himself.

“We just wanted some food!” he yells, his voice an octave higher than before. “We’re hungry, man.”

There’s a strangled howl from behind us. The man in the suit rushes into view, holding the knife. He takes two big strides, like a long jumper. Then, using his whole body, he hurls the knife at Lars.

It misses – of course it misses; do you know how hard it is to throw a knife properly? – and splashes into the river. Lars takes off running, vanishing into the darkness.

For a second, all is still and calm. No sound but the man in the suit’s ragged breathing, and the soft rush of the LA River.

“Unbelievable.” Annie puts her hands over her face.

Leo slowly gets to his feet. His hand is twitching again. “That was awesome!”

“Hold up, sorry, what exactly just happened here?” Nic says.

Leo points at me. “She moved stuff.”

The dog decides it wants in on this conversation, and starts barking, bouncing around our feet.

“Unbelievable,” Annie says again. Drawing the word out as she looks me. “You just can’t control yourself, can you?”

“I controlled things just fine, thank you. That’s why we’re still breathing.”

The man in the suit clears his throat. It’s a loud sound, almost a smoker’s cough, and it cuts through the conversation. Only the dog refuses to stop, yapping and barking.

“I don’t suppose,” the man says, “that any of you folks would like a cup of coffee?”

TWENTY-THREETeagan

The man’s name is Grant. His dog is called Bradley Cooper. While Grant makes us coffee, Bradley Cooper crawls into Leo’s lap for a cuddle.

How does Grant make us coffee? Easy. His microwave.

There is an actual, full-size microwave sitting on the ground in the middle of the bamboo grove, wired directly into a power line above us. The connection is such a ghetto mess of cables and resistors and transformers – or whatever the hell they’re called – that I can’t make head or tail of it. I debate whether or not to ask Leo if it’s actually safe, but just because he can control electricity doesn’t mean he’ll be able to give me an answer. Ask him what a transformer is, and he’ll probably start talking about robot cars.

Not that I care. Because I have coffee, bitches. It might be instant coffee from a can, but it is the single greatest cup of coffee I have ever had.

Grant hasn’t stopped talking since we saved him. I was worried he was going to demand to know exactly how Leo and I did that, but he just breezed right past it. He ushered