Read The Inner Circle (Return of the Ancients Book 3) for Free Online Page A

the middle of the room, quite content to stay and keep me company.
    “I love you, Tigger,” I whispered, snagging my pillow and lying down on the floor next to him.
    He was soft and warm. And within minutes, his paws were twitching and his mouth grinned. I knew he was dreaming, but I didn’t think it was that cliché dog dream of running with his tongue flapping in the wind. When he began to lick his lips I knew for sure he was dreaming about a hot dog.
    I didn’t feel quite as safe as I did with Ajax, but then, Tigger exuded a warm, fuzzy feeling that I didn’t get from the Doberman. I wasn’t entirely confident the old bloodhound could protect me from Mesmers, but I hoped the Mesmers thought he could.
    I lay there listlessly on the floor, but my mind refused to rest.
    I felt like I was being watched. But there was nothing there ... that I could see.
    In the effort to relax, I forced my thoughts to think of a bright future, one where everything worked out all right. One in which the Mesmers were forced back into their dimension, and humans on Earth realized they didn’t have to live with so much fear. And one in which Rafael definitely was one of the good guys.
    I tossed and turned for what seemed like hours. But whenever I checked the time, about only twenty minutes had passed.
    Still, I found the more I occupied myself with that happy dream of the future, the less time I had to feel afraid.
    Finally, the night passed in a fitful jumble of thoughts and dreams. And when the morning light finally painted the sky, I sat up, my back stiff from sleeping on the floor.
    Tigger was still cuddled up next to me, his paws still twitching contentedly.
    Lifting one of his long, droopy ears, I whispered, “Thank you.”
    I got up and dragged myself to look into the mirror.
    “So, this is what an insane person looks like, Sydney,” I said, eyeing the big, purple rings under my eyes.
    It didn’t take me long to get ready for work. Pulling on my scuffed tennis shoes and a gray hoodie, I went to the kitchen for a piece of toast.
    The kitchen was quiet. Everyone else was sleeping in. The open doorway leading to the garage was crisscrossed with Al’s ‘Crime Scene’ tape.
    It leant such an eerie atmosphere to the room that I gave up the toast idea and ducked outside to wait for Ellison on the porch.
    A quick peek across the street revealed no sign of Rafael nor of the garden troll that had turned into the man with the black top hat.
    I stayed where I was, wondering if Rafael had ever gotten my message. Or if he even cared.
    But I refused to think too much about it.
    My first order of business was to figure out how to protect everyone from Mesmer mind control. Running back into the house, I grabbed my notebook and rolled it into my sweatshirt pocket.
    I was going to do some more research on my lunch break.
    I heard Ellison’s Volkswagen long before I saw it. And when I did see it, it was sliding all over the road. Apparently, the slushy snow from the day before had hardened into ice.
    As he neared the driveway, Mrs. Patton appeared at the door of her big pink Victorian house and waved, calling out a ‘Good Morning’ in her raspy smoker’s voice.
    I waved back, eyeing her lawn-ornament-stuffed yard in consternation. I’d come to think of it as a Mesmer playground. She watched me get into Ellison’s car through glasses that made her eyes appear twice as big as they actually were.
    “Top o’ the morning to ye,” Ellison greeted me with a grin as I slid into the front seat. “Buckle up, it’s gonna be a rough slide.”
    “Slide?” I laughed.
    It was a slide. Ellison’s car was more of an oversized skateboard than a real car. But we made it to the coffee shop just in time for Ellison’s shift. Mine started half an hour later.
    “I’m going to make myself some iced tea,” I said, reaching for the door latch.
    But Ellison laid a restraining hand on my arm. Looking at me with a sternness that didn’t match his easygoing