Read The Blood Guard (The Blood Guard series) for Free Online Page B

can just stay in there.”
    Floss Hair’s pockets were mostly empt y — h is train ticket and a set of keys in his front pockets, and in his back pocket, a wallet and a photo of me from seventh grade.
    “Why does this guy have this dopey picture of you?” Greta asked.
    “I wish I knew,” I answered.
    “We should restrain him,” Greta said. She slid out the man’s belt, then pulled his arms behind him, looping the belt around his wrists and tying a complicated knot.
    “Where’d you learn to do that?” I asked. It didn’t fit with the Greta I knew. She was one of those girls who sat in the front row and always had her hand up before the teacher even finished asking the question.
    “My dad’s in the FBI,” she said. “As you’d know if you ever paid attention to anyone at school.”
    “My mom kept me busy,” I protested, but it sounded like a lame excuse even to me.
    Meanwhile, Dawkins had slid his sword through the bathroom door handle like a crossbar. The guy inside jiggled it; the sword rattled in place but didn’t come loose.
    Dawkins walked over to us, dusting off his hands. He eyeballed Floss Hair’s belt-bound hands. “That your idea?” he asked Greta. When she nodded, he smiled and said, “Strong work.”
    At that moment, the floor rocked and tilted, and the air was filled with a long metallic wailing. “Oh, for crying out loud,” Dawkins said. “They’re stopping the train.” He helped us to our feet. “Come on, we need to be ready to disembark once it’s stopped. Before more of our friends board.”
    “Go ahead,” Greta said. “I’m staying here.”
    “I’m sorry, darling, but you’re coming with us.”
    She crossed her pale arms and raised her chin. “No, I’m not.”
    Looking at her flushed face and glittering green eyes, I believed she was stubborn enough to fight Dawkins. “Let’s just leave her be,” I told him.
    But Dawkins shook his head. He bent and wrenched loose the sword that was stuck in the dining tray. “Listen, Greta. These two galoots who came in here? They’re just two of an army.” As if to confirm this, the bathroom door rattled. “The people who come after this lot are going to be much meaner.”
    “I can handle them,” Greta said. “Tell him, Ronan.”
    “She can be pretty tough,” I said, remembering how at the start of seventh grade she’d humiliated three massive kids who’d been trying to push around a smaller boy. ( Me , that is. I’d protested that I didn’t need her help, that I was a better fighter than I looked, but she just told me to shut my mouth and let her save me.)
    “I’m sure she is tougher than steel-studded shoe leather, but that won’t matter.” He turned to Greta. “They’re going to believe you’re partnered with me and Ronan here. And they’re going to hurt you. A lot . I can’t allow that, so, like it or not, you are coming with us.”
    Greta quietly surveyed the wreckage around us. “Okay,” she said.
    “This is everything the guy had.” I handed over the keys, ticket, and wallet. And, feeling strange about it, my photograph.
    “Thanks, Ronan,” Dawkins said, “but I already know what you look like.”
    “ He had it,” I said. “Why does he have a picture of me?”
    “A very good question,” Dawkins said. Flipping through the key ring, he came across a black metal cylinder with a button. “Why, lookie here.”
    “What’s that?” I asked.
    “A luggage fob,” Dawkins said. He pocketed everything else, then gestured for Greta to lead the way. “After you, Miss Sustermann. But don’t try making a break for it or I’ll run this sword through Ronan here.” He grimaced and mimed skewering me.
    Greta rolled her eyes, shoved open the door, and we followed her out.
    “What’s the big deal with the luggage whatsit?” I asked.
    “It’s like an electronic key for a car,” Greta said. “The suitcase beeps when you press it. Helps you find your bag.”
    “Those two were likely put on the train