“Sounds to me like you’re jealous.”
Her pigtails whipped against her cheeks as she glanced at him. “You wish I had a naked chick grinding on me,” she chuckled. “I saw the kind of websites you visit.” Looking back at the road, Paige got another face full of hair. She nearly tore some of it out in her haste to remove the bands that kept it tied up.
“I warned her against going to Cicero,” Cole said in a desperate attempt to change the subject, “but I don’t know how seriously she took me.”
“Did you do anything I might have missed from the security room?”
“No.”
“Then she took you seriously. Trust me, women who strut and flaunt like that are used to guys dropping to their knees and doing whatever it takes just to get on their good side. If you’d caved to that, she wouldn’t have listened to another word from then on. You’d be just another one of her toys. If she had some fake boobs and a sex tape, she’d be in some good celebrity company.”
“You should leave the pigtails in when you bare your claws like that. It’s hotter.” For once, he’d been the one to fluster her. Before she could fire back at him, he added, “Sorry about the fight, by the way. It seemed like she was getting ready to spring something on me, so I thought I’d make a play of my own. I figured you’d be waiting for something like that.”
“I was waiting for something more along the lines of yelling or you getting slammed off a few walls, but you handled yourself really well. I hung back until things got bad because you needed practice other than sparring. And what you did with your weapon was…well, that was impressive.”
“It was an accident,” Cole grumbled.
“I don’t care. It was just what we needed. The whole reason Skinners haven’t been killed off by now is because the Nymar and all those other things out there see us as the freaks. You threw them a curveball with that little trick. Everyone back there will be talking about it for weeks!”
“I don’t know if I’m excited about being the topic of Nymar conversation, but there it is. What’s next? We’re obviously not headed home.”
“We’re paying Daniels a visit.”
“You think we should go there right after we heard about someone looking for him? What if one of Steph’s people follows us?”
“First of all, nobody’s following us,” Paige said confidently. “Second, Steph already knows who Daniels is because she mentioned him by name. The Nymar may not have this city as wired as they say they do, but they can probably track someone down if they want. If she knows where he is, she’ll make a play for him right away. If she doesn’t, then we’ve got nothing to lose by driving there now.”
“Do you think they know Daniels has been helping Skinners come up with new weapons?”
“If they did, he would have been dead a long time ago. What concerns me is that Ace and Stephanie might just call this Burkis guy to let him know we were there so he can give us some grief. That’s why we need to get out to Schaumburg as soon as possible, which would be even easier if someone learned to use a turn signal!”
Paige had stuck her head out the window to aim those last few words at an old man in a new Honda four-door. After leaving him in her dust, she calmly said, “Maybe you should call MEG while I let Daniels know we’re coming. Could be that someone else has mentioned someone named Burkis.”
Cole dug into his pocket and removed his new phone. It still had the clear plastic film over the touch screen, which would stay in place until it either fell off on its own or got too smudged to see through. He cradled the phone in one hand and began swiping through his screens with gentle, loving motions of his finger. “I’ve got all the MEG branches on speed dial,” he said proudly.
“Take them off.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you only need to know a few phone numbers, and you should have them memorized. Anyone who gets ahold of your phone could find out all of your business. Right now your business is my business, so delete those numbers.”
“Fine. As soon as I hook into my computer and update the software so I can make changes to the system, I’ll do it.”
“Real convenient phone you got there. Is that the one you borrowed all that money for?”
Rather than answer that question, Cole dialed the number. He even used the speed dial to really show her who was boss.
After a few rings a woman picked up and said, “Midwestern Ectological Group Branch 40. How can I help you?”
“Hi, who’s this?”
“Midwestern Ectological Group Branch 40.”
“I know that. Where’s Stu?”
Although there was a touch of tired aggravation in her tone, the woman at the other end of the line was far from flustered. Being an organization that searched for ghosts by following creaks in people’s attics and flashing digital cameras at cold spots in the middle of dark, empty rooms, MEG got more than its share of strange calls. “If you have an instance to report or a sighting to document, you can log onto our website. If you need to reach someone in particular, I can pass along a message.”
Cole knew all too well that the woman wasn’t even close to writing anything down yet, so he spoke quickly before she hung up. “His name’s Stu. He usually always answers the phones. Just tell him it’s—”
Swatting him on the arm, Paige whispered, “Use your number.”
The first time he’d called the paranormal investigation society, Cole needed to pass along an identification number belonging to a Skinner named Gerald Keeley. A lot had changed since then. Gerald was dead and Cole had his own identification number, but he was on such good terms with the guy who usually haunted MEG’s main phone line that he never needed it.
Pressing his phone against his shoulder, Cole used his free hand to pat his pockets. “I can’t find my card,” he whispered to Paige.
Gnawing on the inside of her cheek, she grunted, “You don’t keep that number on you, but you program in all the phone numbers that are plastered all over those MEG websites and that stupid cable show they keep rerunning?”
“Sir? Are you still there?” the woman on the phone asked.
“Yeah,” Cole said. “Hang on. I’ve got a number for you.”
“All right.”
The frantic expedition into his pockets turned up nothing but forty-two cents and a faded coupon. His socks contained his feet and a little over two hundred bucks, which only left one more place for him to look. Lifting his butt an inch or so from the seat, he slid his hand along the space where the backrest met the bottom cushion. That’s when he struck pay dirt.
“All right,” he said triumphantly as he plucked the card from where it had been wedged. “Here we go.” He read a string of numbers from his card as Paige busied herself with her own phone. When he reached the final digit, he heard a definite shift in the voice at the other end of the long-distance connection.
“Cole Warnecki?”
“That’s me.”
“I didn’t realize you were one of those…I mean…I’ve never talked to anyone who—”
“I know. I get that all the time,” Cole said, even though he rarely had anyone seem remotely impressed with his name. This was actually one of the few times a newcomer had even pronounced it correctly.
“You still want to speak to Stu? I’m sure I could help.”
As much as he wanted to draw out a conversation with a voice as sweet and promising as hers, he was hesitant to comply. There was more to think about than just getting on the good side of an interesting woman. Surely, the end of days was nigh.
“I’d kind of like to talk to Stu if that’s all right,” he said.
Quickly, the woman replied, “Sure. That’s fine. Let me get him for you.” She didn’t sound annoyed or upset, just a little disappointed to be passed over. Now he really felt like an ass.
There were a few clicks, some static, and then a few more clicks before a familiar voice drifted through Cole’s new phone. “If you want me to retract what I said about those painted hammers on the Digital Dreamers forums, I won’t do it.”