by Kate Douglas
He kept a sharp eye on Alex to make sure the boy didn’t try to give them the slip during their travels, but he spent most of their flights unconscious. Part of his exhaustion might be the lingering effects of the silver penetrating his system. Merek suspected Ophelia literally sat on the kid to make sure he stayed where she wanted him, but couldn’t be certain.
Chloe staggered a little as they left the airport in Phoenix and the wave of desert heat slapped them in the faces. Both Merek and Alex reached out hands to steady her, and she managed a ghost of a smile for them. “Where to next?”
“Not far. An apartment building across town.” He steered her toward the shuttle to the rental car lot, Alex falling into step behind them.
“You mean, we’re staying here for longer than a layover? We can sleep in a bed for eight whole hours?” The look she gave him was so hopeful he had to grin. That her hazel eyes were bloodshot and bleary made him want to pull her into his arms, but he nudged her along and kept an eye out for anything or anyone out of place.
They made it to the rental office and drove to the apartment without incident. Chloe made him stop at a pizza parlor for takeout on the way, and he could hear Alex’s stomach growling from the backseat.
Merek made them wait while he checked the place out, searched the furnished apartment for anything off, swept it with his magic to see if there were lingering vibrations from another Magickal. Nothing. When he loosed the reins on his precognition, the past of the building swept to him with stunning clarity. He saw them breaking ground on the site before it went up, and time swept forward until long after they’d left the place. The space of days they would be there was a gaping maw in his visions, but the time directly after showed no evidence of violence. No blood spatter, no bullet holes riddling the walls. Nothing.
He motioned Alex and Chloe forward, watched them trundle in, dump the pizza off in the kitchen, and separate into bedrooms to drop their stuff. Chloe paused to turn on every lamp and hit every light switch along the way. He’d seen them do the same thing many times before, and the normalcy of it felt good. He was swinging the door shut when Ophelia’s yowl made him pause. He didn’t bother looking around for her, just waited for her skinny body to begin stropping his ankles while she dropped her invisibility spell. Snapping the door shut, he secured the lock and set warding spells on the apartment. Then he stooped down to pick the familiar up and carry her into the kitchen to wait for Alex and Chloe.
They’d be under five minutes unloading everything, and he knew Chloe was currently managing to hog every inch of counter space in the bathroom. A smile twitched across his lips before it faded, and his gut twisted as something besides the need to outpace Gregor seeped into his consciousness. He was starting to like them too much, know them too well. The problem with forced proximity was it also forced intimacy. He hadn’t let anyone this close for this long since . . . since his family. Since his wife. He sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Fuck.
No, the problem wasn’t that he was stuck with them now that he’d agreed to keep them safe. The problem was he liked it. He liked them, liked knowing their routines. He liked being around Alex, who hated not having his gadgets, but had managed to find books on nanotechnology in airport stores.
Merek sensed a basic similarity between himself and the kid. They were both too watchful, too serious, too alone. And that was where Chloe came in, a mouthy, acerbic counterbalance to them both. Despite all her own baggage, she managed to remain optimistic that obstacles could be overcome. She was smart, brave, and when the chips were down, she fought. She survived. He admired that in anyone, let alone someone with a traumatized childhood. He just liked her.
Under other circumstances, he might have been able to convince himself it was just her body, just the chemistry they generated between the sheets, but the stolen moments they snatched for sex were buried under the time they spent just being together. He liked watching her tease Alex into laughing, liked flopping down in front of a television in whatever random hotel they happened to be in to watch some cheesy program, only to spend most of the time cracking up because not one of them could keep their sarcastic comments to themselves.
They were in danger; they were on the run.... At this point, they could all be wanted fugitives, and he wouldn’t know. Nothing about it should have been comfortable. He was ready to fall over from exhaustion and strain, but he couldn’t think of anywhere in the world he’d rather be than right here, or any other people he’d rather be with.
“This pizza is going to be cold before we eat it if you two don’t get a move on.” He shook his head to clear his wayward thoughts, and jumped when Ophelia dug her claws into his leg. He detached her from his flesh with a grunt, and petted her until she sighed and purred.
“Coming!” Chloe called, and the way her voice echoed told him he was right and she was spreading her things out in the bathroom. His lips tugged in a reluctant grin.
Alex dragged in from his room, propping himself against the counter across from Merek. Cocking his head, he listened for something Merek couldn’t hear. His eyes squinted into an almost-smile. “We could just eat without her.”
At that second, Chloe appeared in her doorway. “Thanks a lot, brat.”
Alex just snorted a little laugh, grabbed the stack of paper plates from the pizza place, and divvied them up. Ophelia gave an imperious mew, and Alex obediently went to retrieve a can of food from Chloe’s suitcase. No doubt about it, the cat had them well trained.
A giggle drew Merek’s attention to Chloe, who was shaking her head at her familiar. Her gaze met his, and they both grinned, then chuckled, then laughed until they were holding their sides. Alex came back, popped the top off the can, and set it in front of the cat. “What’d I miss?”
Chloe waved a hand helplessly in the air, and Merek had to grab it to keep her upright. “N-Nothing. It’s not even really that funny.”
A fresh spate of laughter rolled out of him, and he grabbed a napkin to wipe his eyes. “No, it’s just tension relief, and the fact that the cat has us at her beck and call.”
The strangest look entered Alex’s eyes as his gaze went from the familiar, back to the bedroom door, and then down to stare at his hand as if it belonged to someone else. “Man, if the pack could see me now, a wolf playing fetch for a cat.”
And that just set them all off again.
“Oh, gods.” Chloe leaned weakly against Merek’s side, and he let himself enjoy the feel of her. “Okay, really. We need to eat and get some sleep. We are way too giddy.”
“Even cold pizza and lukewarm lettuce sounds good to me right now.” Alex flipped open the first of four cardboard boxes, and handed Chloe the plastic container with the salad she’d insisted they get.
She forked a portion of greens onto everyone’s plate while the wolf served up gooey slices of combination pizza. Merek’s stomach rumbled like he hadn’t eaten in a month, but this was the first meal they’d had without tension humming through their muscles in days. They didn’t even bother sitting at the table, they just fell on their food like ravenous animals, and not even Chloe bothered to try to spark up a conversation.
When they’d cleaned their plates, and both Merek and Alex had gone back for thirds, the kid sighed with deep satisfaction.
“Exactly,” Merek said.
Chloe snorted and heaved herself away from his side. “All right, let’s tidy up and hit the sack.”
Any other day, that would have been the most exciting thing she could say to him, but the exhaustion weighed down on his very bones now that his hunger had been satiated. Pushing to his feet, he grabbed the empty pizza and salad containers, while Chloe stuck the leftover slices in the fridge and Alex gathered the dirty plates and Ophelia’s empty can of cat food. Then he went rummaging through the cabinets with Chloe to try to find a garbage bag. The apartment was furnished, but besides that, supplies were limited.
A deep sigh echoed from the cabinet Chloe had her head in. “Looks like col
d pizza for breakfast, and then we need a grocery store.”
Alex hummed an agreement. “Yeah, less fast food would be nice for a while. I’m getting sick of it.”
Eyebrows arching, Merek blinked at the wolf for a moment. “That’s got to be the first time in history a teenage boy has said that. You’re a mutant, kid.”
“Gee, thanks.” Alex actually grinned at him.
Ignoring them both, Chloe continued rifling through the contents of the kitchen until she found what she was looking for. “Thank the gods there’s coffee here. Instant coffee, so it’ll taste like tar mixed with drain cleaner, but it’ll be caffeinated, so I don’t care.”
“What a trooper.” Alex gave her a one-armed hug, and she ruffled his hair, making Merek smile. Nice kid. He hoped the boy grew up to be a better man than his father. Narrowing his eyes, he focused on Alex. And saw nothing. He bit back a curse, his muscles going rigid. It wasn’t the static-fuzzed picture he usually saw when he looked at the wolf, but a huge blankness.
What the hell did that mean?
Only that the kid would be important to him. He sighed. The kid was already important to him. So was Chloe.
As always, frustration clawed at him that his gift denied him the ability to protect those who mattered the most to him. The future was his to shape and command unless it really counted. Powerful and powerless at the same time. He fucking hated it. It was his job, his duty, to protect people using every weapon at his disposal. Bitterly ironic that what usually made him so valuable in just these situations was completely beyond his recall or control. He shoved a hand through his hair and turned away, moving to double-check the doors and windows as well as his magical shields.
Plastic rustled while Alex and Chloe stuffed the garbage in a bag, and then there was a long pause during which he could sense Alex speaking telepathically to Chloe. Then his voice filled Merek’s mind. I’m headed for bed. Need anything before I go?
“No, thanks. Sleep well.”
A chuckle rippled through his thoughts. No worries on that one.
Merek glanced back at Chloe, seeing only the woman and nothing of her future or past. He didn’t even have to try to harness his abilities with her. His muscles wound tighter as he faced her. “You should go, too.”
“Not just yet.” She leaned back against the counter, folded her arms, and met his eyes with her sharp hazel ones. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Every now and then you stare at me, tense up, and get this awful look in your eyes.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Are you seeing something bad in my future? If so, I’d like to know. I can take it.”
“No. I still can’t see your future.” His hands flexed at his sides. “I just realized I can’t see Alex’s either.”
She nodded, but her gaze didn’t waver. “Could you ever?”
“Yeah, although . . . it was fuzzy. Like a television screen on the blink. Sometimes the picture was clear; sometimes there was nothing but static.” He forked his fingers through his hair, hating the truth. There was a lot of shit he could handle, but this was one thing he’d never be able to accept. “It’s like that with my partner Selina, too, but not with Alex anymore.”
“So now you can’t see him either.” She shifted, settling more comfortably against the countertop.
“No,” he growled. “Not at all. It’s just blank.”
“Why?” He could almost see the scientist’s wheels spinning, running experimental scenarios in her head. The woman had to test everything. Him, his control, herself, her abilities, the world around her. “You’re this amazing clairvoyant, even Luca sounded in awe of your skills, so why are some people blank and some not? What makes your sight go on the fritz like that?”
“It’s complicated.” He swallowed and let his chin drop to his chest. “The last person I couldn’t see anything with was my wife. Before her, my best friend growing up. Before him, my parents.”
“So, people who are important to you in some way.” Her eyes narrowed, her head tilting as she considered. “Or people who become important.”
“Yeah. The one and only vision I ever had of my wife was the first time I touched her. I shook her hand to introduce myself and got this flash of our wedding, where it would be, how she would look, how I would feel. Just this one single moment that burned into my brain.” One he’d done everything in his power to make come true. Good thing she’d been a scattered artist with no desire to ever plan anything, because most women he’d ever heard of would have balked at his controlling every aspect of their wedding. He’d just known he had to have that moment, that vision, that feeling.
Now, it felt like a different person had been married to her, loved her. He wasn’t that man anymore, young and with just enough cocky idealism left to think he could save the world. He suppressed a snort. He didn’t even want to be that man anymore. Turning away from Chloe, he stared blindly at an ugly watercolor print hanging on the wall.
“Something bad happened to her, didn’t it?” Her voice was soft, undemanding. He didn’t have to answer her if he didn’t want to. He sensed she wouldn’t press the issue. So, why would he tell her anything? He hadn’t spoken to anyone about this since . . . ever. Maybe it was the exhaustion that made him answer, maybe it was some heretofore unrevealed need to connect, maybe it was just Chloe and what she did to him.
“Yeah. Something bad.” Him. He had happened to his wife. If he’d walked away that first day, if he’d never shaken her hand, she might be alive and well today. The thought was a punch to the stomach, even to this day. “It’s worse than that.”
“Worse than something bad happening?”
“I can’t—I can’t even remember her face anymore.” Guilt dragged vicious claws down his flesh. She’d died because she was his wife, and a decade later he couldn’t even recall what she had looked like. Ten years was nothing in a Magickal’s five centuries-long life. If they survived to a natural death. His wife hadn’t gotten that chance.
“What?” Chloe’s arms looped around his waist, and her body warmed his back as she rested her cheek between his shoulder blades.
He swallowed. “My wife. I can’t remember her face. If I focus on most people, I can see every detail of their lives, from the day they were born to the day they’ll die. All the possibilities. I can see them as clearly as if I were standing there with them.” He closed his eyes. “It’s not like that with the people who’ll have the biggest impact on my life. And her face has faded from my mind until I have to concentrate to remember it. Even then, it’s blurry, like one of those grainy old photographs.”
Her lips brushed over his back. “I’m sorry.”
Just that. He could feel her sympathy radiating from her, seeping into his skin, but she didn’t coddle or fuss, didn’t demand to know more, didn’t ask questions. She just held him the way he’d never let anyone hold him since his family died. Not for comfort or solace or need. He kept the world at arm’s length, and he liked it that way.
He’d had sex since his wife’s death; he’d even had a relationship or two, but he’d always ended things before it got too deep. He’d always been able to foresee that it wouldn’t go too deep. A humorless smile curved his lips that the one woman who appealed to him most was the only one who tried to run when things got intense. Not that she could push him away even if she wanted to in their current situation, but she didn’t demand more than he was willing to give.
The problem was she didn’t have to demand it, did she? He’d already given up his entire life for her, given everything for her. Cold clutched at his belly, twisting inside him, but he couldn’t deny the thought. He was always honest with himself about who he was and what he wanted. He made no excuses to himself or anyone else about what he was. Most of the time, he was a cynical bastard, the product of his life and circumstances. But with Chloe, he dared to hope . . . for far too many things, most of which he didn’t even want to acknowledge.
“What was her name?” Chloe linked her fingers to
gether on his chest, dragging his attention back to a story he didn’t want to tell.
“Laura.” He sighed. Everything tangled up inside him. The past, the present, the future. Things that he saw so clearly for other people, but not with himself.
Her fingers moved in reassuring circles on his chest. “That’s a nice name.”
“She was a nice girl.” True, and not even close to the whole picture of who she’d been.
“Can you tell me what happened to her?”
He didn’t want to. Gods, but he didn’t. Not when the ugliness of it was etched into his mind, the memories that he couldn’t forget. But since Chloe had had the guts to tell him her worst nightmare, he couldn’t deny her the same. “She died.”
Chloe just waited, her arms secure around his waist. It was easier not looking her in the eyes, not having to see the expression on her face when he told her the truth. “We lived in Chicago—I grew up there. I was a new detective assigned to their MTF Violent Crimes Unit. It was one of my first cases.” One he hadn’t had the experience to handle, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. He cleared his throat, pushed out the words that would revolt the average person. “A real bitch, too. A serial killer was targeting Magickal women, sexually assaulting them with wands, and then stabbing them to death with knives from their own kitchens.”
“Wands?” She stirred against his back, her arms tightening.
He could hear the surprise in her voice. Only little kids first learning magic used wands as a focusing tool. An adult Magickal would never need one, and wouldn’t want to be that indiscreet anyway. “Yeah. Wands.”
“That’s sick.”
“Yeah.” But he’d seen worse since then, much worse. At the time, it had horrified him, added another callus to his already scarred soul. “We arrested a guy who met the profile, had no alibis, and knew way too much about the crime scenes to be uninvolved.”