Wade and the Scorpion's Claw Read Online Free Page B

anything to say besides “Whatever that means.”
    â€œYou see, you and your family have no idea of the cosmic scope of what you have gotten yourselves involved in.”
    I stepped backward, bumping against the wall behind me. “You either,” I said, meaninglessly.
    â€œThe great machine’s relics? What has a simple family like yours to do with such treasures? Still, your cooperation may serve me well.”
    â€œYeah, like we’d help you.”
    Darrell, come on and get in here! Really, in the whole airport, no one has to go to the go room?
    â€œI could yell for help,” I said.
    â€œSounding an alarm will do neither of us any good.”
    My fingers twitched. I wanted to hurt him somehow, to make him feel the terror that the Order made us feel. My hand dived into my backpack. Because it was shaking so much, it took me a second, but I finally whipped out one of the daggers. It felt wrong to be holding a deadly weapon, but I jabbed its short, wavy blade in the air anyway. It looked silly in my little hand. “Tell Galina to let Sara go.”
    He flicked his dead eyes at the dagger, then back to my face. “Perhaps you do not know French, but allow me to enlighten you,” he said. “Galina Krause has given me carte blanche . This means ‘blank check.’ In other words, I may do as I wish. Wielding a dagger in this manner is impolite. Furthermore, it means nothing. You will not use it. You will never use it, Wade Kaplan.”
    â€œStop saying my name!” I gripped the handle so tightly my knuckles turned white. But he was right. I couldn’t imagine using the dagger. How could I hurt a person? Even a bad one. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
    â€œWe will want both daggers also,” he said. “But keep them for now, if it gives you comfort. We will meet again soon . . . Wade Kaplan.”
    All at once, the entrance to the corridor filled with shapes, and two young boys and their father trotted in, chattering and laughing. Before they saw me, the German strolled out past them, whistling a melody that sounded like a wolf howling.
    I staggered out into the concourse. Fear rolled over me like the sweat dripping down my arms, my face. Darrell sauntered over from the snack stand, munching one Snickers bar while tearing open the wrapper of another. “I got one for you, but I had to eat it. . . . Dude, what’s with you? Did the sink explode? You’re dripping wet.”
    Barely able to stand on my own feet, I glared at him. “Thanks to you, I’m never using a bathroom again.”
    When we got back to the gate, Dad was flipping mad. “You never do things alone! I told you. Darrell—you messed up!”
    â€œDad, I’m sorry,” he said. “The phone call was so good. . . .”
    And more of the same, while I felt the blood drain from my face, neck, and head. I said, “I’m sorry, Dad. We’re sorry. It was . . . I didn’t expect he really was a Teutonic Knight. Dad, I’m scared. . . .”
    He settled me quickly into his seat. “All right,” he said more calmly, though his face was dark and anxious. “All right.” He scanned the crowd, but of course Leathercoat was nowhere in sight. “Please tell me again exactly what he said. Word for word.”
    When I repeated Leathercoat’s actual words, most of it sounded weirdly polite, almost friendly. I realized the menace was in what he didn’t say. Allow me to pick your brain . . . kindly remember this fact . . . allow me to enlighten you . . . if it gives you comfort.
    Dad listened intently, completely silent himself, as if, once more, he was trying to draw the whole incident into himself. Finally, he brushed my wet hair from my forehead. “Okay. Okay. You handled yourself very well.”
    â€œShould we tell security?” asked Becca. “Wade is scared, and so am I, Uncle