by Nia Shay
"Yeah." I snorted, choking on laughter and tears. "Something like that."
"I would never leave your side, Jandra. Not willingly."
Great, rub in the guilt, why don't you? Aloud, I said, "Feeling better now?"
"Yes, a bit." He frowned, drawing a deep breath through his nose as if to verify his lungs were working properly again. "I've never experienced anything like that before. It was horrible."
"Yeah, that's fear for you."
"But what could have frightened you so badly?" he persisted, gripping my hands in his.
I almost brushed him off again, but really, he deserved an honest answer. I gave him the only one I could come up with. "Myself."
"Yourself?"
I nodded. "Sometimes there's nothing scarier."
I could see he still didn't grasp my meaning. He didn't press it any further, though. He stood up and pulled a notepad and a pen and from his pocket. I smiled, surprised.
"You remembered. Thanks." I took them and began to jot down a list of my pessimistic musings: money, vehicle, pursuit, the twins.
"Here." The mattress bounced as he set the jug of water beside me. I looked up, waiting for him to hand me a cup. When he didn't, I just popped off the cap and drank directly from the bottle.
"Is something the matter?"
"Nope." I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, grimacing as my stomach clenched at the sudden input.
He nodded once and began to pace, lost in his thoughts. I went back to my own. My jottings slowly filled the small page, the "cons" list growing longer and longer while the "pros" remained pathetically short. I took out my frustration on the end of the pen. When I'd finally bitten right through the plastic barrel, I tossed it down and announced, "I have reached a conclusion. This sucks."
"Indeed it does." His pacing didn't slow or waver.
I glanced down at my list. "We can't contact Sara or Cara again. It might put them in danger."
His sadness crashed over me like a breaking wave, but he nodded soberly. "I understand."
I raised a questioning eyebrow at the reaction. It still seemed odd to me that he'd become so attached to the girls in so short an acquaintance. Maybe I still couldn't quite grasp the concept of Zeph having feelings of his own. I was accustomed to seeing him respond to me, as I'd supplied him with his only means of emotional expression. But I'd never seen him long for the company of someone else before. Of course, he wasn't used to the kind of total acceptance the twins had shown him. Had that mattered to him, even in the past? Maybe so. Even sociopaths crave validation of some sort.
"What is it?" Zeph asked, and I realized I'd been staring at him.
"I'm sorry," I replied. "I'm glad you care about the girls so much, but it's best for them if we keep them out of this. Things could get ugly from here on out."
"Surely they will." A visible shudder went through him.
"Do you know something I don't?" I asked, wary.
He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest as if for warmth against a sudden chill. "If I do know, I'm not aware of it."
"You know what's scary? That answer made perfect sense to me."
Sixteen
By four o'clock we'd loaded a small overnight bag into the trunk of my car and were backing down the driveway, without much more of a plan than we'd had that morning. Zeph sat behind the wheel again. I'd staggered enough times while getting ready to know I still suffered the ill effects of blood loss. I felt a bit better by now--I'd spent the past hour napping--but I still wasn't in any shape to operate a motor vehicle.
I'd argued with him anyway. It would look unusual for him to be in the driver's seat, but it couldn't be helped. I turned to stare out the rear window, blinking away the dark spots hovering at the corners of my vision. "Damn it."
"What is it?" Zeph asked, glancing at me.
"Nothing. That's the problem." There were no other cars moving down the quiet street. No super obvious surveillance van, no sexy James Bond sports car. No sign of pursuit at all. It unnerved me even more to worry about enemies lurking in the shadows unseen, so confident in their control of the situation that they didn't even need to tail us.
"Calm yourself, Jandra."
"Can't afford to." I raked a hand through my hair. "We have to assume someone's watching us. That's why we have to act as if we're following Briggs's orders to the letter. Which will only work because we'll need the same things for the trip we're actually taking."
"So, what would I need to make ready for a trip?"
"You really don't know, do you?" I shook my head. "Never mind, don't answer that. Well, you'll need more clothes. I assume you don't have anything else with you, or I'd have seen it by now."
"I packed the shirt the twins gave me."
"Try the shirt I gave you, pally. Well, I guess it's technically stolen at the moment. I forgot to pay for it the other day. And no--" I scowled at his hopeful expression, shattering it to pieces in an instant-- "we cannot stop by the shop and 'accidentally' bump into your new best friends. Weston Mall, off limits." I sighed. "In fact, maybe the shopping trip had better wait until after we get out of town. We'd have to find the mother of all big-and-tall stores for you, anyway."
"Very well. What else?"
I chewed a fingernail, considering. "The main thing we need is money. And plenty of it."
Zeph frowned. "Money has never been an object, Jandra."
"I'm not talking about your freaking dragon hoard, Methuselah. The Society has their fingers all over that. What we need is need cold, hard cash. Anything else can be traced. No checks, no credit cards, no bank accounts.... Well, wait." I paused, considering. "I do have my savings from what I've earned at Dissonance. I'm sure they know about it, but the account is in my name. They can't possibly have access to it. I'll just cash it out and close the account." I gave him directions to my bank branch.
"This won't look suspicious?" he asked as he merged into the turning lane at my behest.
"Well, it'll tip them off once they start looking for us, but that shouldn't be until after we don't show at the airport. It's a risk we'll have to take."
He still looked uneasy, but said nothing more. I shrugged. "It's not like we're going to have that much of a head start, anyway. The only real advantage we'll have is the element of surprise."
He nodded his acceptance. "While we're on the subject of surprises...why didn't you tell Briggs about me?"
"Huh? I did. Well, I told some Agent Something-or-Other about you, and he told Briggs. As for the man himself, I wouldn't tell him where to find water if he was on fire."
"No. I meant, you haven't told them how I've changed, have you?"
"Oh, that. No, I haven't."
"Why not?"
"I don't know." I thought about that for a moment. "I guess--back when I still thought they were planning to take care of you, instead of murder you--I guess I assumed they'd be the ones to figure out what was up and what to do about it."
"I believe they already have." One corner of his mouth turned down. "You just don't happen to agree with their method of choice."
"Well, death does cure everything," I said flippantly. Zeph just sighed and bowed his head over the steering wheel as he braked for a red light. I frowned. "Um, okay, I was kidding. Weren't you?"
"No." He glanced at me from under his lashes. "I don't imagine anyone wants to die for their sins. That doesn't mean they shouldn't."
Just what the hell did that mean? Part of me wanted to press him for details, but his somber tone gave me pause. I thought back to his speech about regrets and decided to let it go. For now. "Jeez, lighten up, will you? Everything's gonna be all right."
"Do you truly believe that?"
Well, frankly no, but when had I ever let pessimism stop me before? Since the honest answer wouldn't improve our chances, or his morale, I dodged the question, asking instead, "Would you rather give up without even trying?"
"No." His breath rushed out in a gusty sigh. "No. I will see this thr
ough with you."
For you. He didn't speak those words, but they were there in his voice, in his guarded expression. I realized then that he'd pinned all of his fragile hope on me. He really had been preparing himself to die, until I had given him a reason to live.
Damn it, I wasn't worthy of his faith any more than he was of my tears. But I couldn't say that to him, not with that look on his face. "We'll be all right," I repeated, with more conviction this time.
He smiled at last. "As you say, Jandra."
"Damn right I say."
We lapsed into a somber silence after that. He surely sensed my tension through our link, though whether he chalked it up to my false confidence or the very real danger, I couldn't tell. Several times he seemed on the verge of saying something, but he never did. After a while, though, he took one hand off the steering wheel and laid it over mine where it rested on the center console.
I should have pulled away, but I didn't. I couldn't. His skin radiated warmth, soothing and sweet, like the touch of his lips on my throat last night. Like the tender pressure of his embrace as he'd carried me to the bathtub. Like the way he'd touched me when....
"Here, take this right." My voice came out breathy and high-pitched. "The bank is at the other end of the shopping center."
He had to put his hand back on the wheel make the corner, but he glanced at me as he withdrew it, with a very male expression on his face. One that said he knew exactly what I'd been thinking about, and was infinitely pleased with his effect on me. It should have made me angry. I don't know why it didn't, as a matter of fact. But I had to suppress a snort of laughter.
Zeph hung back in the lobby as I joined the line inside the bank. I would have preferred for him to wait in the car, but there were security cameras in the parking lot, of course. There would be a record of the fact that we'd been here, so I couldn't see any point in trying to hide it. Thus, better to bring the large, potentially intimidating man within arm's reach of the guards rather than leaving him outside like some sort of getaway driver. Considering the amount of cash I'd be requesting, it seemed best to play things as cool as possible. The fewer feathers ruffled, the better.
As it turned out, the bank had a daily withdrawal limit of $10,000. I had quite a bit more in my account--you can put a lot into savings when you have no mortgage payment--but no amount of persuasion or threats had swayed them from the rule book. I reluctantly agreed to take the balance in a cashier's check. Though I ground my teeth in frustration as I filled out the paperwork, it really wasn't the end of the world. Ten grand would get us out of town easily. If we needed more down the road, we'd just have to be sneaky about getting it.
Down the road. God. I had no idea where that road would even take us.
I sat in a stiff-backed chair, waiting while the teller conferred in secret with her supervisor, when my cell phone rang. I slipped it out of my purse and checked the caller ID. Cara. This made about the tenth time she'd called me today. I pressed the reject button yet again, leaving her to rant at my voicemail, and dropped the phone back into its slot.
I became aware of a stirring in the crowd of bank patrons to my right and looked up to find Zeph striding toward me. The long line parted like the Red Sea as people shuffled aside to make way for him. "Will you cool it?" I hissed once he came within earshot. "You're making a scene!"
"You can't bring that with us," he declared in a half whisper, pointing an accusatory finger at my purse.
I raised an eyebrow. "Why not? It matches my shoes."
"Don't they contain some sort of tracking device?"
"What the hell are you...? Oh, you mean the phone? Yeah, I think there's a GPS in all of 'em nowadays. But mine's not activated--my carrier will only turn it on if law enforcement requests it. It's for finding missing people, stuff like that." His meaningful look finally sank in. Damn, I was still thinking slower than a drunken turtle. "It has to be an official request from an appropriate agency," I repeated stubbornly. "Besides, what if we need to get in touch with someone?"
"You know as well as I how much leverage the Society is capable of exerting on any agency it chooses. And whom would we need to contact? You said yourself it's too dangerous to involve anyone else."
"Yeah, yeah, so I'm right. Quit rubbing my nose in it." My fists clenched on the purse's strap. "What am I supposed to do, slap a stamp on the damn thing and mail it back home?"
"That doesn't seem wise, either."
Of course not. I'd already reached the conclusion there would be no turning back. And he was right--taking the phone along would be an unnecessary risk. I glared at him anyway. "Fine, I'll ditch it, but you are so buying me a new one." Someday. When it was safe for me to own one again.
"I promise," he replied.
"Good. Now relax and sit down, before the security guards shit their pants."
Twenty minutes later, my purse was heavy with twenty-dollar bills. The disgruntled bank manager had expressed his sorrow to be losing my business--then he'd insisted on taking us into a private room before handing over the cash. He'd sent for an armed guard to escort us back into the main lobby. In fact, it took a subtle vocal nudge from Zeph to shake the uniform. He'd wanted to walk us all the way out to the car.
"I don't like this," I muttered as soon as we hit the parking lot. "We were in there way too long for a normal transaction."
"I take it this is bad for appearances?"
I nodded. "Big time. If they start looking into my account activity right now, we'll only have a few minutes to get off the radar, instead of a few hours. You'd better head straight for the interstate."
"I thought we'd planned to purchase more water for you once we had the money?"
I shrugged. "Consider 'Plan A' officially discarded. Won't do me much good to be hydrated if they catch up to us and start carving off body parts."
A spasm crossed his face at my careless words, but he went on doggedly. "You need your strength."
I shook my head, ignoring the claws of thirst that tore at my throat. Talking about it would only make it worse. "We'll stop at the first convenience store outside the city limits, okay? Provided no one shoots at us or tries to run us off the road before then."
I slid into the passenger seat and made a show of fiddling with the seat adjustment, leaving my purse lying open on my lap. A subtle nudge of the elbow, and my cell phone spilled out onto the blacktop. So did my lip gloss, which I scooped up with a grumble, pretending not to notice anything else. I slammed the door shut, and Zeph started the engine. As he backed out of the parking spot, the phone splintered under the front tire with a muffled crunch.
"Happy now?" I groused.
"It was necessary."
Maybe, maybe not. That wouldn't stop me from pouting over it. "When did you get so damn smart, anyway?"
He slid me a sideways look. "Does it bother you that you didn't consider the risk yourself?"
I bristled at his question, even though I knew he wasn't trying to tease me. He was genuinely asking. "I still don't think it was that big a risk," I lied, sniffing.
"Perhaps not, but I thought our goal was to eliminate risk wherever possible."
"All right, fine. Just shut up and drive."
Seventeen
"Where?"
"Wheeeere?"
"Where are you?
The words swirled out of formless dark, echoing soft as a whisper even though they tore at my heart like an anguished shout. I fluttered my eyes open only to find more darkness. No sign of the one who had cried out for me. I called out a hesitant reply. "I...I'm here."
"Wheeeere?"
"Here," I repeated, more firmly this time. "I'm right here."
A cool breeze trickled around me, stirring the blackness like storm clouds. Something warm and soft brushed my cheek. Found you.
"Yes," I whispered.
Warmth pooled in front of me, banishing the chill of the wind. I reached forward, grasping instinctively. An unseen hand sprang from the nothingness to twine inside mi
ne. A human shape coalesced behind it, becoming solid, visible. I smiled at Dreamy as he took form. "Hello."
His pale eyes flew wide, as if I'd said something shocking. "Hello?"
I frowned at his reaction, but became distracted as the darkness around us began to part like a stage curtain. The setting was quite familiar--my darkened bedroom. Unlike our other encounters here, the walls and furniture had a flat, insubstantial quality, like a photograph. Or, more aptly, like a dream.
"What's going on?" I murmured.
"I've been a bit hasty, sweetness. It's risky for me to approach you when the nephilim is near." Dreamy laughed, still sounding rattled--nothing like the sinful tempter he'd been last night. "But I had to see you one last time."
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I said." His smile was thin, his tone hollow. "Tomorrow, Jannie, you're going to die."
"Oh. Really?"
Dreamy nodded. "It seems inevitable at this point, I'm afraid."
"Hmm." The prospect filled me with only mild concern. Perhaps his apparent lack of worry had defused my own. He could've been predicting tomorrow's weather rather than my impending demise. I looked into his bland expression and asked, "Why do you care?"
"Oh, dear heart. You still don't understand a thing, do you?" He tilted his head, studying me for a long moment. "And I had such high hopes for you. You ran away from him, away from them, rejected everything they taught you--even the name they gave you, Jandra-also-known-as-Jade. And now you've leapt from the fire right back into the frying pan."
He was probably right. But I paused, frowning at something else he'd said. "What do you mean, the name they gave me? They didn't get hold of me 'til I was eight." I had no question in my mind which "they" he meant.
"You're completely clueless, poor Jannie," he said, using my mother's nickname for me for a second time. I bristled at it. I'd always hated being called that.
I scowled at him. "You know, you've never said my name before. I didn't even think you knew it."
"Oh, I know a great deal about you, dear heart. Far more than you know about yourself, it would seem." He reached out a hand to touch the nape of my neck, his fingers sliding slowly upward. "J-A-N-D-R-A. They tattooed it on you at birth. It should be right here, just above the hairline."