Justus spoke in his lusciously masculine voice. That’s the only way to describe it, because he was being uncharacteristically soft. I had learned not to complain about pain around him because he never offered sympathy unless he was the cause of my injuries. Even then, our training sessions had progressed enough that there was no need to borrow light from him when I could tap into the sun or just heal naturally.
“What can we get that will ease your discomfort?” he asked.
“Morphine.” She laughed and rubbed her face in her hands. “You know, that cab driver took the long way so he could get more money out of me,” she said as if talking to herself. “Nothing, Mr. De Gradi. Unless you have some aspirin—my head is killing me.”
No, we didn’t have any pharmaceuticals in the house. A Mage suffered the occasional bout of stomach upset, but otherwise, medicine had no place in our lives.
“A cool cloth?” he suggested.
“Perfecto,” Page mumbled.
“That’s a yes, Ghuardian.”
He left the room and quickly returned with a neatly folded towel. She placed it across her forehead and blew out a breath while Justus lit a few candles. The buzzer went off, so I hurried to the kitchen and brought her back a bowl of soup.
Page had no more than five small sips before she pushed the bowl away. “I better go,” she announced, standing up on shaky legs. “Thanks for babysitting the car even though it needs a wash.”
My confused eyes flicked over to Justus and I touched her flushed cheeks. “She’s burning up.” No wonder Page was talking incoherently.
Justus reached for the keys and she clutched them tightly.
“No, I want to go home. My home.”
She suddenly gripped my shoulders and her brown eyes went wide. “I’m going to be sick.”
The keys hit the floor with a jingle.
I rushed her to the bathroom where she flew in front of the toilet and retched. I closed the door and suddenly had a vivid image of what Christian must have gone through that night he sat with me for eight hours, watching me puke.
No wonder he despised me so.
“Here,” I said, wiping her chin with the rag. “I think you’ve got the flu. I had it once when I was a kid and it knocked me out for several days. You shouldn’t be driving on ice when you can barely walk.”
“I’m not staying out here, Silver. I want to go home. You know what it’s like when you just want to be sick in your own bed.”
“Then I’ll drive you, okay? I can take a cab back home; no big deal.”
“Thanks,” she whispered before the rest of the soup came up.
I vowed to never eat chicken noodle again.
***
“Page is a little better.” I spoke quietly into the receiver, telling Logan about the turn of events. “She came down with the flu and I was about to take her home when Justus put up an argument about how I’d end up in a ditch.”
Logan chuckled on the other end. “He has a point.”
“He insisted on driving her, something I have no doubt he’ll regret. Page is lying in the backseat of her car with a garbage can. I think Simon is going to pick him up and bring him back home. He didn’t say.”
“Simon won’t be coming,” Logan said.
“Why’s that?” I paced across the living room and landed in the swivel chair.
“He’s watching the lab, remember?”
“Oh yeah, the stakeout.” I wondered how incognito a man in a leather collar with a tongue piercing could be. He tamed it once in a while with some sharp clothes of a European fashion, but Simon loved his bad-boy look.
“Do you need me to stay with you? I’m on my way.”
“No, Logan. Stay where you are. I like being alone sometimes. It’s nice and quiet around here. Except for Max.”
“How’s he doing in the new home?”
Chitahs didn’t typically own pets, but Logan had bonded with him. Sometimes Max would leap onto his shoulders, which I never saw him do with anyone, and rub his face against Logan’s cheek. I loved seeing that because Max was a piece of my past—the only piece I had left. Logan bringing him back into my life was the most thoughtful gift anyone had given to me.
I curled up and played with a loose thread on the pillow. “I think he missed his mommy. What are your plans tonight?”
“I’m meeting with Leo. If you need anything, you have my number.”
“Will do, honey.”
He growled approvingly and we hung up.
Not more than a minute later, I received a text from my employer.
Novis: Meet me at the diner at three. Burgers and fries are on me.
Novis possessed a unique sense of humor few could appreciate; rhyming had become his signature style in a text message.
It’s a good thing we weren’t meeting at twelve, or elves might be on the menu.
Chapter 8
Justus glanced at the Relic in the rearview mirror. After ten minutes of groaning, she buried her face in the crook of her arm and fell asleep.
The heater in her car barely functioned and she’d left her coat at the house. Justus focused on his core light and released a comfortable degree of warmth within the vehicle, but it didn’t ease her tremors.
In his time, colds were often deadly. What once wiped out villages now kept mortals at home with a bottle of medicine and tissues. That offered him little comfort. Page was mortal and required proper care, but he didn’t trust human hospitals.
Once he shut the engine off, Justus got out and stepped in a pile of muddy sludge. The city had done an inadequate job at clearing off the roads, and he kicked around a few heavy drifts of snow beside the car.
He hooked his hands beneath her arms and pulled her out of the backseat. The frigid wind blew around soft tendrils of her hair, so he adjusted his core temperature and held her close.
Justus used her keys to get inside the building. He hadn’t paid attention to her living conditions on his last visit. The apartment had a simplistic feel with a quaint sense of style—a quality he admired. Bookshelves lined a wall from floor to ceiling. Page didn’t have all the little trinkets and flowers most women collected. Her decorations were books, papers, pens, and small bundles of colored yarn. They were the types of books that Simon liked to read. Science books. Justus had a small library, but his pleasure derived from the classics.
The bedroom connected to the living room and he stared at a plain white bedspread covering a twin bed.
Up close, there were delicate freckles on the bridge of her nose that he hadn’t noticed before. Finding himself unnecessarily distracted by her heart-shaped face, he placed the Relic on the small bed and wondered how she shared the space with a man, due to its meek size.
The Relic tucked her knees against her chest and Justus glared at the bathroom door connected to the bedroom. He rummaged through the cabinets, pulling out soaps, towels, and toilet paper until he found medicine. It promised to eliminate all her symptoms, so he set the bottle on the wooden nightstand and closed the heavy drapes. He had no clue how to care for an ill person. Even in his human life, it had never been a responsibility put upon him. Women took care of the infirm, and doctors were summoned for those with money. Justus came from a poor family, and his own mother had succumbed to a feverish illness at twenty-seven.
He slowly peeled away her wet socks and noticed her chalky-white feet. The boots she’d worn the other night at the club were tucked in the corner of the room, and Justus grew angry with himself for having made her walk to the car. He should have carried her.
His fingers curled warmly around her ankles and Page suddenly flew up with lightning speed, clutching her stomach. Justus stepped back, afraid he’d crossed a line of professionalism with the Relic like the incident at the club. When he saw her face sour, he grabbed a small waste can from the bathroom. She bent over, and without a word, vomited into it. While it should have disgusted him, he rubbed his hand across her back soothingly.
Strands of hair clung
to her sweaty face, covering the ruddy mark around her eye that made him want to put Slater into the ground.
“I’m sorry,” she said weakly.
“You’re ill, not sorry. Will you permit me to help you, Page? Look at these bottles and tell me which one will heal you.”
She tapped her finger on a milky, green liquid and Justus filled the small plastic cap.
Why were her living conditions inadequate and small? Relics had an advantage over many Breeds in that they could earn a respectable living through the wealth of their clients, acquiring a substantial income. Sensors were traders, and Shifters often ran their own companies, although they felt inherited land outweighed monetary gain. But Relics, they possessed knowledge that was sought after. When the parents died, the money exchanged hands to the next in line. Why did Page live in a one-bedroom apartment that could barely accommodate his car?
He had HALO business to attend to, but those plans dissipated the second Page stripped out of her pants. She was oblivious that anyone else was in the room, eyes closed as she kicked off her jeans.
Her state of mind bothered him. Women in this condition were vulnerable and anyone could enter the house. It happened all the time, and human television used it as nighttime entertainment. What honor would he have in leaving her alone? It plagued his conscience, even though she was only a Relic.
Justus rubbed his smooth jaw and returned to her side, helping her out of her shirt. She might have thought him a lech, but Justus had seen more women naked than he could count, so it hardly mattered.
Hardly.
He changed the wastebasket and placed it beside the bed. Then he stood by a small table with his arms folded, deciding what to do.
That morning he had dressed himself in a cream-colored shirt with a wide opening in the front and drawstrings. Women liked this look on him and thought it was romantic, so he’d chosen carefully when assembling his wardrobe. Now such trivialities hardly mattered.
In the corner, a brown sitting chair looked like a favorite spot with a book on the armrest and a knitted blanket folded over the back. Justus could have taken a seat, but his feet became cement blocks.
He thought about leaving. He thought about how frail humans were. He thought about the dagger strapped to his lower leg. He thought about Slater.
***
“Wow,” I remarked, staring at my phone.
“What is it?” Novis asked, dipping a chicken strip into his milkshake.
I wrinkled my nose. “Now that’s just plain disgusting.”
“You mixed and mingled.”
“Yes, but there are rules.”
His smile thinned out. “Yes… rules. I thought you didn’t care for rules?”
“Don’t blame me if you get sick.” I set my phone on the table beside the glass ketchup bottle. “Justus sent me a message. He said Page took a turn for the worse and he’s going to stay for a while. I hope it’s not serious.” I looked up at Novis. “We think she might have the flu.”
Novis nodded. “Centuries ago, we didn’t have medical care for such simple things. People died. Infants and strong warriors were given no preferential treatment by death. Of course, living conditions were unfavorable then. If the Relic grows too ill, she should call her partner.”
“Why don’t they work alone?”
“Relics are paired up early on, and for most of them, it’s a lifelong relationship. They share information and serve as each other’s backup. There are no Breed hospitals, so Relics are the equivalent of private doctors. They retain clients throughout their lives. Most partners marry and their children take over caring for their immortal clients. It’s preferred; we like to keep our secrets within the family.” He pushed a crumb around on his plate. “The word immortal is thrown around when it simply means we have an extended lifespan. Nothing is forever. Except atoms.”
“I met her partner. He socked her in the eye.”
Novis looked up and his brows slanted. “I wouldn’t let Remi know about that. A Gemini closes off his emotions for a reason, and if they’re as good of friends as you say they are, he might do something regretful.”
“Never mind,” I said. “Let’s not get sidetracked. Am I here for an assignment or are you just craving my cheery companionship?”
It was between lunch and dinner, and a young mom a few tables away tried to calm her screaming baby with a stuffed lion that squeaked.
“Only three people work in the lab,” he began. “They rotate schedules like clockwork. Simon’s been concealing his light after sensing two of them to be one of us; we’re not sure what the third could be.”
I glanced around. “Is it okay to discuss this in public?”
He quirked a smile and pinched his lip before responding. “I’m well-guarded for such conversations.”
“Maybe your guards are lying in a ditch.”
His smile stretched and he looked down at the table, shaking his head. Novis tugged at some of his dark hair that he kept spiked in every direction. “Never worry about such things in my company, young Learner. You must take my word when I tell you that we have the utmost privacy.”
Hmm. Novis was full of secrets. “Do you know the names of the scientists?”
“No. Their cars were unmarked and Simon couldn’t follow them without raising suspicion. He’s tracing the plates, but it’s doubtful they’re complete imbeciles. We’re not able to obtain a warrant without motive. Our laws are not like the human world, as you know. The Mageri will not serve warrants without a testimony and documentation. We cannot arrest until there is sufficient evidence to convict. Once a name is ruined, it’s hard to recover one’s good-standing. For immortals that has always been imperative due to our social circle being much smaller and our lives being much longer.”
“Do you think that’s the only lab there is?”
He broke a chicken strip in half and looked at it closely before popping it into his mouth. “Can’t be sure.” Novis licked his finger and wiped his hands on a paper napkin.
“This doesn’t seem like groundbreaking news to call me here.”
“We want a peek in the lab.”
“Simon’s a good peeker,” I said with a smile. “I bet he can pick the locks.”
“We can’t risk tripping any alarms they may have. It must be unlocked from the inside.”
“And how do you propose to do that?”
He nudged his head sideways and gave me a look, prompting me to think about it.
“Oh… you think I could move the locks inside? I’m not sure; it’s not something I’ve had much practice doing.” It wasn’t so much the metal that I could move, but I had the ability to manipulate residual energy left from a Mage who had recently touched the object. “I’ve never tried moving something from the other side of a door—I don’t know if it will work.”
“Think… or know? Why don’t you go home and practice? You’d be surprised what you can do when you put your mind to it. It’s time you learn to focus that talent you have and put it to good use. No one can train you on your telekinesis; you must learn how to develop it on your own.”
“What if they catch us?”
“Simon knows their routine. You’ll have four hours to conduct a search and get out. I’d prefer if you finished up quickly so that no residual energy is left behind. If the third man is a Sensor, he’ll be able to pick up any emotions left behind. Be sure to keep that in check—no fights, and don’t touch the equipment. I doubt the third man is a Chitah based on the descriptions, so we won’t have to worry about anyone tracking your scent. Keep it clean, in and out. If you can’t find anything useful in an hour, then leave.”
I smeared my fry across the plate, picking up pepper flakes. “I’ll give it a try, but that whole hour could be wasted with me trying to get the lock open. I might trip the alarm.”
“The most self-damaging words in the English language are: try, might, and if. These are words of uncertainty. Will you fail? That is possible. But continue doubting your abilitie
s and you’ll never succeed.”
“How do you know they don’t have security cameras?”
“Simon checked it out.”
“Micro cams?”
“Like I said, he checked it out. So did Logan.”
“Seems Logan has been up to a lot of things without telling me.”
His pale blue eyes brightened. “Likewise, I’m sure.”
Novis had a point, except Logan didn’t work for him and I did. Then again, Logan was a good negotiator and might have received payment for his services.
“Have you warmed up to your name, Silver?”
I shrugged indifferently.
“It took time to get used to mine,” he admitted. “A name is only something you’re called, it’s not who you are. Many of us retain our human names, such as Justus and Simon. If Justus had been renamed Peter, would it change the man he is?” Novis tapped his long finger on his plate. “I think I’m going to pick a new location next time. Do you like Chinese cuisine?”
Chapter 9
My winter wonderland was turning into a slushy nightmare. The novelty of fresh powder was replaced by the reality of wet pants, dirty shoes, frozen cheeks, and slipping and falling on my ass. Novis left the diner with his driver and I trudged out to my car, thinking about putting a blanket and a few survival items in the trunk, just in case. Which struck me as funny, being an immortal.
I texted Justus that I was on my way home and offered some tips on how to starve a fever and all that. The last thing that poor woman needed was a man shoveling a steak down her throat.
A cold blast of air snuck up from behind and caused me to shiver as I approached the car door. The key wouldn’t go in the lock at first, so I jiggled it. That’s when I heard footsteps approaching from behind. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
“I’m not hungry, Christian.”
“Well, I’m famished. I could really use a… bite.”
My heart didn’t just skip a beat; it froze and forgot how to work again. My blood pressure plummeted and I nearly fainted. The gravelly voice, the way his words cut like razors at the end of each sentence, and the deep intake of breath were the distinctive sounds of a person that I knew all too well.
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