“I see how well they’re all going to lock into place. Right around my buddy Flipper, here.”
Edie took a closer look. Sure enough, the yellow fish he’d been putting together outlined one of the big dolphins shown on the box.
Josh smirked and reached for his water. “Admit it, Lang, you’re outmatched.”
“No way.” She glanced at the wall clock. “We have forty-three minutes before the hour is up.”
“Time for me to pull that much further ahead.”
“You wish.” Edie wrinkled her nose at him again.
The earlier tension between them had faded. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so relaxed around Josh.
Too bad they both had to have a lethal mystery illness to reach that point.
A shiver of fear rolled through her. Dwelling on it wouldn’t help anything, though. Edie chose another piece from the pile she’d amassed. Did it go with that blue…yes!
“My mom worked puzzles this way.” Josh’s soft voice broke the silence. “In sections. She always said you had to put the picture together to know how to frame it.”
He continued trying pieces against each other, his eyes on the task, but his barriers in the magic didn’t seem as tight or as cold. Maybe the energy drain made them too difficult to sustain.
Still, he’d offered something personal. If she pursued it, would he clam up again?
Better to go with a neutral reply. “I can see how that might work.”
“She was a deputy sheriff. I’ve sometimes wondered if she approached her cases the same way, putting bits together and then meshing them until she had a picture.”
He sounded melancholy, and Edie didn’t know how to respond to this glimpse into his soul. After a moment, she tried, “You sound as though you miss her.”
“I’m used to it.” Josh frowned at the chunks he’d assembled. “She was killed when I was eight. Drug bust went bad.”
“I’m so sorry, Josh.”
He acknowledged the comment with a nod. After a moment, he looked up at her, a direct gaze with wariness in its depths. “About the liking thing, Edie. I wasn’t being polite. I do like you.”
The words warmed her, maybe because the hope in his eyes made her believe him. His other comments about dangerous jobs flashed through her head, and the pieces clicked. “You don’t like my job, though.”
Josh hesitated, then said, “My sisters already covered the sexist opinions ground, but I won’t apologize for what I think. I grew up around cops, and I’ve been to war, and I think women should be safe. More often than not, they’re the linchpins of their families.” He paused, studying her as though he sensed the indignation about to burst from her. “I’m not asking you to agree with me.”
“That’s good.” Edie smiled to take the sting out of the words, but her throat burned with disappointment. She and Josh were as incompatible as she had suspected. Trying to talk someone out of an opinion like that seldom succeeded, so those hormones buzzing in her belly and elevating her pulse could just stand down.
At least she knew why he’d been so disapproving. It wasn’t his place to disapprove, of course, but he’d had the courtesy not to spout off about it in front of the fire crews.
“How many sisters do you have?” she asked.
“Two, both younger. Emily’s a nurse practitioner in Santa Fe, and Cath’s a Navy lawyer in Hawaii.”
Edie cast him a sly look under her lashes. “I bet I can guess which one you visit more often.”
“I don’t have time to visit either of them much. I keep thinking Em and I should head for Hawaii together, but we can’t get our schedules to match.”
“It must be nice to have sisters, though. I’m an only.”
“Are you rotten?” He rummaged in the box.
Despite what she’d learned tonight, Josh’s teasing smile generated warm tremors in her heart. Crap and double crap.
“A little, maybe. My parents were big believers in commitment, discipline, and teamwork.” She paused, watching him. “I did like having the dog’s undivided attention.”
His grin flashed, and Edie’s throat went dry.
“See,” he said, “rotten. If just a little.”
“Okay.” Edie smiled at him.
Their gazes locked. His softened, deepened, and Edie’s cheeks heated. Her smile faded with his. The light mood between them gave way to new awareness of his broad shoulders under the robe, of his big hand near hers on the table.
Into awareness crept memory, then loss. That intimate encounter had been so sweet, despite the pain that spurred it. It was only an illusion, though, a fantasy that would never—
Josh’s fingers brushed hers. She should pull back. One of them had to use some sense. But surely a mere touch couldn’t hurt anything.
He reached across the table to stroke her cheek with the fingers of his other hand and let them linger at her jaw. Sensation rippled down her neck, into her breasts.
“Edie,” he murmured.
Desire darkened his eyes. Feeling light-headed, Edie laced her fingers through his on the table.
Josh’s throat moved in a hard swallow, reminding her of his warm skin under her lips. When he leaned forward, she did, too.
His gaze sharpened, snapping back into focus, and loss smacked her in the heart. Before she could withdraw her hand, Josh squeezed it gently.
Her fingers felt cold now. Staring at the table, she clenched them together in her lap.
“Uh, sorry,” Josh said. “I just…” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Knowing the desire wasn’t one-sided was some consolation, but the almost-kiss had broken the mood. “We’re both tired.”
She’d been too distracted to notice. Funny how disappointment swept other things to the side.
“Tired people do foolish things,” she added. Just as stressed and grieving people did. A smart woman would keep her distance. “How many pieces have you put together?”
He counted silently, his eyes keen, and the candlelight along his jaw picked up faint stubble. She knew how that stubble felt under her fingers and against her mouth…
So much for distance, damn it. Edie locked her hands together in her lap. How was she going to handle being with him constantly? She would go stir-crazy hiding in her room, and with her friends out fighting the fire, he was the only person available to talk to.
“Forty,” Josh said abruptly. He pushed back his chair and stood.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, but I need to move.” Frowning, he paced up the room and back.
Could he be having similar feelings, not wanting to be involved but pressured by their surroundings? Watching him, Edie felt her frustration over the situation boil up in her throat.
“You know what, Josh? I can’t stand sitting here, cooped up in these rooms, while other people figure out what’s going to happen to us.”
“Yeah. Pretty much sucks. Why don’t we go over this ourselves?” He sat across from her again. “I don’t remember touching anything odd. You don’t either, the doc said, but maybe we’re missing something.”
“Okay. You start.”
“I got the man down call, landed at base long enough to have the Bambi bucket detached, and took off to get you.”
Edie nodded. Suspended on cables under a helo, Bambi buckets came in various sizes. The one Josh used let him dump three hundred gallons of water on a fire. To land with one, a chopper had to lay the bucket on the ground first, then move backward to set down without tangling the cables.
“Did you get out of the Huey?” she asked.
“No. It only took a few minutes, and I didn’t want to have to do a restart. I picked you up, we flew to the clearing, and I set down. Then you got out.”
“Right. I took the Stokes out of the back while we did our radio check. Then I grabbed my pack and headed into the trees.”
He frowned. “No, you didn’t. You knelt by the edge of the track. That’s why I asked you if you
were okay.”
“You asked…” Edie’s brows rose, but the serious expression on his face stopped the question. “I don’t remember any of that.”
“You were doing something. When Harper asked me what happened, I didn’t think about that. I figured you had a bootlace loose or something.”
“Maybe I did, but I should remember it. Was I lacing my boot?”
His eyes lost focus as he thought back. “Your body blocked my view of your hands, but your arm movements were wrong for that. Your hands didn’t stay down by your shin. At one point, you leaned forward. Then you grabbed your pack and did something before you put it on.”
Was it possible she’d picked up something?
“My pack’s in my closet.” Edie pushed out of the chair and hurried toward her room. If she’d done something to cause this, how could she not remember?
Josh followed her into the room. She flipped on the overhead light before rounding the rumpled bed to reach the corner closet unit. In the bottom sat her red suitcase, the official forest service luggage for deployed personnel. One of the crew chiefs had brought it to the hospital for her.
Edie pulled it out. “I put my pack in here because there wasn’t room for both of them otherwise.”
“And leaving the suitcase on the floor would be bad?”
“For tidy people,” she answered absently, unzipping the suitcase. Sooty and stained from use, her blue canvas pack lay inside it.
“Here,” Josh said, “let’s put that on the bed so we can see better.” He scooped up the suitcase before Edie could find her feet.
“Thanks,” she said.
“No problem, milady.” Depositing his burden on the bed, Josh executed a half bow. “Chivalry is not dead, and I do bathe regularly.”
Edie would’ve laughed, but her heart was pounding too hard. Her mouth felt dry. If there was something bad in her pack, she had inflicted this weakness, however unknowingly, on him.
To cover her growing anxiety, she said, “You make a crack about purses, and you’re toast.”
“Manly men carry those. Therefore, it cannot be a purse.” Despite Josh’s quick reply, his absentminded tone implied he also was focused on the pack.
The portable fire shelter in the bottom compartment was only that. From the side compartments, she drew her usual snacks, empty water bottle, small digital camera, spare fire-resistant gloves, packet of facial tissues, radio, extra batteries, clean socks, and bandana.
“So far,” Josh noted, “so good.”
“Let’s see if that keeps up.” Edie opened the top flap and found, as expected, her stethoscope and blood pressure cuff coiled atop bandages, an IV kit, a bag of Ringer’s Lactate, and white tape. When she lifted out the IV kit, the light caught something hard and smooth. She peered inside and saw a cantaloupe-size sphere, black with a purple-red glint.
She froze as memory came crashing back.
“Edie? You okay?”
She tipped the pack so he could see. No, she was not okay. She had brought this thing, whatever it was, into the Huey. It was her fault Josh was sick.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “I remember now. Your pack fell over, and when I straightened it, I saw that. I touched it.”
“Don’t touch it now.”
“No chance.” Josh pulled the white pendant out of his robe and pressed the button.
From the intercom by the bed, a woman’s voice said, “Help is on the way. What’s your situation?”
Edie explained, concluding, “We’re fine, but we have no idea what this thing is.”
“Do not touch it,” the nurse ordered. “I’m paging Dr. Harper.” The intercom clicked off.
Josh looked at Edie. “Score one for us since we’d already given ourselves that advice.”
“Yeah.” He could joke. This wasn’t his fault. “Josh, I’m so sorry. I touched that thing, picked it up because I thought we shouldn’t leave it for Mundanes—”
“Edie, stop.” He gripped her shoulders and directed a stern look at her. “It’s natural to touch something unusual. As for picking it up, that was the right thing to do. Suppose a firefighter had stumbled across it. Who knows what it would’ve done to a Mundane?”
“Well…” No matter how nice he chose to be, it wouldn’t change the facts.
Josh pulled her into his arms. “Stop. I mean it.”
Choking back tears of mortification and guilt, she buried her face in his neck. He tightened his grip and rested his cheek against her hair.
“That’s my girl,” he said softly. “You did the right thing. We go forward from here, no looking back.”
“I’ll try.” He felt so good in her arms, warm and solid and strong. Josh’s chest rose and fell against hers as he breathed. He would keep breathing. Somehow, she would see that he did.
“That was an order, Lang. You’ll do more than try.”
She had to chuckle. “I’m not in your chain of command.” He was starting to feel a little too good. Suddenly aware of his hard, muscular chest against her breasts and his arms holding her close, Edie drew back. Had he noticed?
Josh still held her, his eyes warm and full of concern. In a heartbeat, his concern shifted to desire. Edie’s breath caught.
He tipped up her chin. “Edie,” he murmured, lowering his head.
The hallway door to the lounge opened. “Josh? Edie?”
They sprang apart. “Here, Doc,” Josh called.
Edie’s cheeks blazed. She turned her back and took a couple of deep, slow breaths as footsteps hurried into the room behind her. Then she turned to greet Harper and a tall, shaggy-haired blond man with a couple of days’ brown beard growth shadowing his jaw.
“Will Davis, Edie Lang,” the doctor said. “Where’s the object?”
“In there.” Edie indicated her pack.
Harper peered inside. His body stiffened, and his expression turned grim. “Will, look at this.”
Davis leaned over the bed. His eyes narrowed. “Holy fucking crap.”
“What is it?” Edie demanded.
Harper nodded to Davis. The blond said, “This is a portal orb. About a month ago, ghouls tried to use one to open a portal in the interdimensional Veil and admit demons from the Void between worlds.”
“Like in the Middle Ages?” Josh asked.
“Exactly.” Davis turned to Edie. “Okay if we borrow your pack? I don’t want to touch this until I’m shielded and gloved. They suck in souls as fuel for the orb.”
Harper added, “The story’s a long one and unnecessary now, but when we destroyed it, all the people under its influence were freed. Smashing this one should break its link to you and stop its interference with your powers.”
“Davis said it sucked in souls, not magic,” Josh reminded him.
“For all we know,” the doctor replied, “this one may have been formed for a different fuel, like magic. Touching it could have allowed it to attune itself to you in some way.”
Edie’s face reflected Josh’s doubt. “Are you sure this is the cause?”
“You’re both magically drained, and you have an unusual, dangerous magical object in your pack. The possibility of that being a coincidence would be slim to none. It could also explain the ghoul looking for Josh at the hospital.”
“A ghoul was looking for me?”
“In firefighter garb. I’d meant to discuss it with you in the morning. Any other reason one might be looking for you?”
“Not that I know of.”
“The good news,” Harper said, “is that this will solve the problem. Once we smash it, you should be good to go, and the ghouls will have no reason to come after you if this is what they wanted.”
“I want to watch,” Edie announced. “I want to see my fellow mages blow that thing to smithereens.”
Harper shook his head. “If you’re there when they destroy it, there could be some sort of backlash. You’re safer here.”
Josh put an arm around Edie’s shoulders. “I’m with her. We want to be the
re.”
That solidarity felt good, despite its limits, but his arm made her too aware, again, of his body. As though Josh felt the same, he released her abruptly and jammed his hands in his pockets.
“I’m more concerned about how it ended up in Edie’s pack to begin with,” the doctor commented.
They told him what they remembered.
“So when it linked with you,” he said, “it blanked your memories.”
“Wait.” Josh raised his eyebrows. “How would a ghoul know we’d found it, and why me instead of Edie? Ghouls can’t scry.”
Davis scowled. “No, but mage traitors can. At a guess, they picked you because your coverall has your name on it. Once they had the ‘Campbell,’ tracking down your first name wouldn’t be tough in the circumstances. I’d bet they were scrying the swamp, looking for this thing, and saw Edie find it.”
“Traitor mages?” Edie cast a questioning look at Josh.
“Long story,” he said, “but this past summer, we learned some mages were in league with ghouls. There’s a task force, headed by Valeria Banning, to expose and capture those mages.”
Edie shook her head. “I think I like living in the mountains away from politics.”
“A sign of your sanity,” Harper commented. “Will, you can take care of this thing tomorrow, can’t you?”
“Don’t see why not. Dawn is the purest light, but the sun is strongest at noon, so we’ll do it then, like last time.”
The two men wished Edie and Josh a good night and left. Alone with Josh, Edie felt acutely conscious of her rumpled bed. He studiously did not look at it.
“I guess we should get a good night’s sleep,” Edie said. “I’ll feel better for it.”
“Me, too.” Josh hesitated. “Good night, Edie.”
“Same to you.”
He closed the door behind him, and Edie climbed into bed. Everything was going to be all right. Will Davis would see the orb destroyed, freeing her and Josh. That was great. Except that she and Josh would then return to their separate lives.
But that was for the best, wasn’t it? Distance, she reminded herself, and turned out the light.
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