He puffed up. “I’ve got a first aid kit in the truck, or I could call for an—”
“He’s not hurt, just hungover,” she cut in before he called in more sirens and flashing lights. “He swore he’d be fine for a hike, but . . .” She trailed off, sending him a ‘please-won’t-you-save-me’ moue. “Could you help me get him to the car?”
“I tole you I’m fiiine,” Dez slurred. “You want to hike, lesss get going.”
“Right,” she said to him while shooting a conspiratorial eye roll at the sandpiper. “We’re going. Straight back to the hotel.”
“Oh.” Rescue fantasies deflating, the spindly ranger nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing like a counterweight. But then his expression went dubious as he scanned the empty shoulder, then looked up to the plateau. “Your car isn’t all the way up there, is it? He looks kind of, uh, big.”
Not to mention that the ranger probably only hit one fifty after a heavy meal, her neck was already sore, and Dez was leaning heavily against her like he was settling in to stay. “How about you wait here with him, and I’ll go get the car?”
The sandpiper′s face brightened. “I’ve got water.”
“Perfect.” Together, they got Dez the dozen or so feet to the shade of the truck and propped him up against a rear tire that smelled faintly of dog piss. As she headed up the trail, she got a parting image of big, badass Snake Mendez being force-fed bottled water.
Not willing to bet that Keban was long gone, she kept a sharp watch on her surroundings as she retrieved the car, helped load Dez into it, thanked the sandpiper profusely, and got them on the road. Once they were rolling, she reholstered her .38 and headed back toward Farmington in case it turned out that they needed that ER, after all.
Then the shakes hit.
“Oh, shit.” She gripped the steering wheel two-handed as her stomach rolled sickly and her muscles knotted in a series of whole-body shudders that left her feeling disconnected from the vehicle, from everything, really.
What the hell was she doing? This was way out of her league, way beyond the adventure she had been looking for when she boarded the plane for Cancún. She was sneaking away from the cops—or at least away from a government official—for the second time in two days, and that so wasn’t her. This whole deal wasn’t her. Where the Nightkeepers operated outside the system, she worked right smack in the middle of it. She had a Social Security number; she paid her taxes; she voted. She had a year-long lease on a third-floor apartment she rarely used, fifteen payments left on a spunky little Mazda, and an off-and-on lover who wanted to be much more. That was her world. This wasn’t.
Beside her, Dez’s breath rattled oddly in his chest.
Her hand shook as she reached for her armband.
“Don’t.” His eyes were still closed, his skin still gray, his voice a hard, painful-sounding rasp, but his words weren’t as slurred as before. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes. And if you call in the cavalry, this’ll turn into a clusterfuck.”
She told herself to ignore him and hit the panic button. Instead, she snapped, “You won’t be fine in a few minutes. This wasn’t the same as the powder.”
“It’s close enough, though stronger. Actually, it feels like a hell of a postmagic crash.” He cracked an eyelid; the whites had gone pink. “Just find me protein, carbs, and someplace to sleep it off. I’ll be fine once I recharge.”
“For all you know, your brain could be leaking inside that thick skull of yours.”
He reached across and touched her hand, brushing his fingertips across the inside of her wrist. “This isn’t like what happened to Anna.”
She could have held out against stubbornness. She had no defense against understanding. “Hands off,” she snapped.
He withdrew, lay back against the far door, and closed his eyes with a tired sigh. But his color was better, his voice stronger when he said, “Just find me some food and a bed. While I’m sawing logs, you can do your thing.”
Dump him on his people and go home, said her better sense. But beneath the fear was a thread of adrenaline, a stir of heat . . . and the knowledge that he needed her.
“You just don’t learn, do you, Montana?” she muttered. And she pulled into a Wendy’s drive-through and ordered one of everything.
With Dez snoring softly beside her, she got back on the road, called Lucius, got his voice mail, and left him a rundown on the latest. Then she picked a chain hotel and used her alternate ID to rent two rooms. When the clerk asked if she wanted to pay the extra for early check-in, she was startled to realize that it was just shy of eleven a.m.
She hadn’t even been around Dez a full day yet.
Returning to the car, she woke him up far enough to get him to his room. He leaned heavily on the wall as she swiped his key card and held it out to him, keeping a copy for herself in case she needed to get into his room. Like if he went catatonic. When the door opened, he grabbed the two big bags of Wendy’s that she held out to him, and lurched through, saying over his shoulder, “Give me six hours before you even think of knocking.” The door thunked solidly in her face.
Not letting herself be offended, and hoping to hell that she had made the right call, she left him and got to work.
Normally when she was off on a job, she liked to work in the hotel lobby or a café or something, surrounded by people and activity. But since she needed to be able to talk magic, she hit the vending machine for a Diet Coke and locked herself in her room to set up her computer and get down to business. She shot off a text to Lucius: Wheels down. Hit me up as bulletins warrant.
He bounced back a return almost immediately: Consider yourself hit. Meet me on Webcam. Got something for you.
“Finally, some good news.” She hoped.
When the Webcam went live, it showed the stone walls of the library and the first few rows of racked artifacts. Moments later, Lucius crutched his way into the picture, looking as tired and strung out as she felt. He sat for a second, then shook his head as if orienting. “Okay. Okay, I’m here.”
Uh-oh. She was afraid to ask, but she had to know. “Is the team back?”
He focused on her, his expression going rueful. “They’re okay. Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. In fact, it was over before they got there—they walked into an empty village. Rabbit’s friend, Cheech, had lived there with three of his brothers, but now . . . there’s no sign of any of them. Poof. Sixty, seventy people. Men, women, kids . . . just gone.” He paused. “The team found Cheech’s cell at the edge of the village, in a pile with a bunch of other personal shit. There was a little girl there, dead. Eight, maybe nine years old.”
“Oh.” Reese pushed aside her soda as her stomach knotted on the image. “Poor Rabbit.” She hadn’t gotten to know the youngest of the magi all that well—he had been in and out during her stay at Skywatch and had a territorial girlfriend—but she had the impression of a fiery but hardworking guy who was well endowed with both magic and opinions. She’d liked him instantly, and hurt for him now.
“He and Myrinne stayed down there.”
“How is Jade taking it?”
“She’s . . .” He exhaled. “Pretty broken up. But she’ll deal. She’s a fighter.”
Which was different from being a warrior, she knew. Jade wore a tough outer shell, but was highly empathetic and lacked the emotional shields that came with the warrior′s talent. But she had Lucius, who supported her in a thousand quiet ways, tried to send her off as strong as she could possibly be, and then waited behind, cursing his too-human healing rate and hoping—praying—she would come back safe. He didn’t put that on her, though, just as he didn’t try to coddle her, overprotect her, or guilt her into staying home. He was a good man. A good mate.