Read Into the Fire (The Mieshka Files, Book One) for Free Online Page B

his thoughts to the latter.
    “Yes?”
    He listened for a moment as the person—the Swarzgard military’s commander—uttered a few formalities. By the time the commander had finished, Redenbacher’s left hand pressed down hard upon the desk’s leather so that his emotions wouldn’t show in his voice.
    “Thank you, Commander. I would like to get down to business. My daughter is waiting for me at home.”
    Which wasn’t true. She had band practice today. He simply did not want to spend more time on the phone than he had to. He could already feel the stress churning his gut.
    “Yes, the new men have settled into the lower levels. Gerard will see that they are looked after.” His eyes locked on the glass of alcohol at the reminder, then turned a dead stare out the window. “The first prisoner has not tried to escape. I think he recognized the material.”
    Just think of it as renting out space , he told himself. A seagull flew by his window, its small, refined body and black-tipped wings making it a northern—Russian—seagull, as opposed to the fatter ones he usually saw by the lake.
    His fingers drummed on the desk.
    “They plan to take the next one tomorrow, as per your command.”
    He wasn’t sure why the commander was talking to him. He supposed it was a courtesy. Gerard ran the operation, really. Redenbacher was just the landlord.
    The commander began to wrap up the conversation. Redenbacher relaxed. He swivelled his chair to see the small bar in the corner, eyes slipping over the various, dark-coloured bottles. He suspected he was going to need more than one glass tonight.
    What was treason, anyway? He mused. He’d never sworn an oath to Lyarne.
    Somehow, he didn’t think a court would buy that.

    Mieshka let the apartment door close behind her, reducing the hallway’s light to a gold crack at the bottom of the frame. Sunset was long past. From the far side of the dark living room, light from their neighbour’s television flickered through the vertical blinds.
    The pizza boxes mounted high in silhouette. She didn’t breathe as she passed them. They were a war of attrition she was losing with her dad.
    Down the bisecting hallway, a pale crack of light was the only sign of life. He never came out of his room.
    Anger stirred like old, dark blood.
    She shook it off, flicked on the light, and walked to the door.
    “Dad?”
    There was a muffled sound on the other side.
    “What is it, Mieshka?” His tone was sharp. Had the school called already?
    Something scraped the other side of the door. At the bottom, the crack of light flickered. When a shadow moved across, she backed off a few steps.
    The door dragged as it opened. As her dad’s face appeared in the gap, she suddenly doubted the wisdom of coming to him.
    He’d been a researcher before Mom died. Surely grief hadn’t killed all his skills.
    He rubbed his eyes, which looked even more bagged and lined than they had last night. She wondered if he’d been crying.
    “School called. You missed class?” His voice was rough and grating. Mieshka had planned to snap off something about administrative clerical errors, but thought better of it.
    Truth was always a good place to start.
    “Yeah. There was a… problem in class. So I left. I’ll tell you about it later and you can get angry at me or the school or whatever. There’s something else we need to talk about.”
    Seeing him this close—he looked old. Lines carved close to his eyes. Her fist tightened. He was thinner than she remembered him being, despite his pizza intake.
    He finished rubbing his eyes and, perhaps seeing something in her expression, dragged the door farther open. Mieshka led the way to the living area, where they faced each other under the dim bulb. A quick glance at the pizza boxes made her shun the couch. Instead, she leaned on the wall to the kitchen.
    “I met the Fire Mage today.”
    Her dad wobbled to a stop, looking dazed in the light. He frowned, suppressing a yawn. She