Ends of the Earth Read Online Free Page B

had
struck out. If the information broker didn’t come through, she wasn’t sure what she’d do—except maybe regret that she’d gone after Max instead of rejoining her sister,
Jazz.
    Instantly, she chided herself. For once, Max needed her more than Jazz did.
    They stepped inside. The smell of toast, eggs, and triple-strength espresso was so robust, it was almost a physical thing. It enfolded them with breakfast-y goodness as they stepped through the
doorway. But their welcome from the enormous caramel-skinned man wasn’t nearly as warm.
    “No firearms,” he said in a bored growl. His massive body was the size of a small planet, dwarfing the tiny hostess stand and nearly filling the cramped entryway. His small teeth
were the yellow of stale cheese.
    “We don’t have any weapons,” said Cinnabar. She held her arms away from her sides for the man’s rough pat-down.
    Wyatt sent her a sidelong look. “A coffee shop with a bouncer?”
    The huge man snorted. “This ain’t your granny’s coffee shop, grasshopper. Now raise your arms.”
    Cinnabar said, “We want to talk with Tully.”
    Cheese Teeth finished frisking them and grunted, “Tully’s busy.”
    “But we—” Cinnabar began.
    He hooked a thumb toward the door behind his right shoulder. “Take a seat.”
    Cinnabar’s gaze darted past his other shoulder to the plush burgundy curtain that concealed Tully’s office. But nothing short of a squad of marines with flamethrowers and tanks could
get past Cheese Teeth—and even then, it would be a close thing. She pursed her lips and edged around him into the coffee shop, with Wyatt trailing behind.
    The space was narrow but deep, with a lofty ceiling, colorful wall hangings, and a curved mahogany bar. At this hour, only a handful of the café tables hosted customers, mostly people who
seemed like they’d been up all night. Lazy bossa nova music drifted from hidden speakers, transforming the muted conversations into a garbled purr.
    Taking a stool at the bar, Cinnabar fished a tiny green change purse from her overcoat pocket. She gnawed her lip. Only a handful of bills remained.
    “Enough for a hot cocoa?” asked Wyatt hopefully.
    “You know, you could chip in something too,” she said.
    He spread his palms. “Hey, if I’d known we were gonna flee for our lives, I would’ve brought my wallet and a boxed lunch or three. But as it is…”
    Cinnabar rolled her eyes and ordered them a couple of hot chocolates from the pretty Asian barista. She eyed the menu longingly, but who knew how long their small stash of money would have to
last?
    Wyatt sneaked glances at the café’s other patrons. “Reckon there’s any famous spies here?” he asked.
    “Sure,” said Cinnabar. “That’s Mata Hari over in the corner, having tea with James Bond.” But she was only half paying attention.
    Her thoughts had flown, as they always did, to her older sister, Jazz. It troubled her that for the past two days, nobody had answered the phone at Merry Sunshine Orphanage, where she’d
left her sister when they accepted this mission. Cinnabar wanted to catch a train back there and see what was happening, but once again, she rationalized her choice. Jazz had Mr. Stones, Madame
Chiffre, and others to take care of her. Max had nobody.
    Her jaw tightened like a vise. Nobody besides that skanky bottle blonde, Vespa, who had probably betrayed the entire S.P.I.E.S. operation.
    “You all right?” asked Wyatt.
    “Never better,” she said. “Why?”
    His eyebrows lifted. “No reason. Just that you snapped your cinnamon stick like it was somebody’s neck.”
    “If only,” she muttered, glancing up into the mirror over the bar.
    At a table behind her left shoulder, a hatchet-faced Pakistani man suddenly dropped his gaze and busied himself with his cell phone. Cinnabar frowned. Had the man been watching them?
    “Right, then,” rumbled a voice from the bottom of a barrel. “Tully will see you now.” Cheese Teeth