If he hadn’t feared that his touch might wake her, he would have reached over to lay his hand on hers, just so he could feel the silky warmth of her skin, the faint throb of the pulse within her wrist. For now, though, he knew it was best to let her sleep, so she might have her full strength to meet the next day.
He must sleep, too. Strange how difficult that was, considering the weariness weighing down all his limbs. Perhaps the devices interrupted every rhythm in his body, even the ones that told him when it was time to sleep and time to wake. He must do his best, though. He did not know precisely what tomorrow would bring, and he had to get what rest he could. If God smiled on him, then perhaps this would be the only day he would have to suffer Miles Odekirk’s devilish devices.
Only this one day, and then he could take Jordan home.
Chapter Sixteen
Sunlight crept in past the mini-blinds at the window, catching Jordan at exactly the wrong angle as she sat up in bed, then blinked. She put up a hand to block the tiny, offending rays, then glanced down at Hasan as he slept beside her. His eyes were shut, showing how thick and dark his eyelashes were as they lay against his cheeks, and his dark hair was scattered across the pillow.
She wanted to run her fingers through that hair, wanted to bend down and kiss him awake. He needed his sleep, though. Better to slip out of bed and go barefoot down to the kitchen. Maybe the scent of coffee drifting up the stairs would wake him gently, but if not, she would rouse him once she had breakfast going.
Which wouldn’t be much. Yes, there was coffee in the pantry — she opened the container and sniffed, and determined that it didn’t seem too stale — and packets of instant oatmeal. Better than nothing, but….
It’s enough to get you going, she told herself as she filled the coffeemaker’s carafe with water and set it back on its heating plate. Once you’re back at Hasan’s place, you can have him conjure you some eggs Benedict or a breakfast burrito or something.
Of course, that little scenario assumed that they would be able to get out of here. As she leaned against the counter and watched the coffee begin to drip down into its carafe, she racked her brain for possible ways of obtaining a vehicle. Brent had said he worked at the motor pool. Maybe she could slip in there and spirit away one of the cars while the mechanics were working on something else. Surely they had to have the vehicles they weren’t working on stashed somewhere around the property.
It’s still stealing. And anyway, how would you be able to tell which cars had already been worked on and were just waiting to be picked up, versus the ones still waiting for repairs?
She probably wouldn’t be able to tell. Also, it was a bright, sunny day. Her chances of slipping in without being noticed were pretty low, especially since she didn’t know anything about the setup at the auto repair yard.
All right, scratch that one. Brent had seemed friendly, though. Possibly there was a way she could wheedle the loan of a car, as long as she was able to come up with a good excuse. No, he wouldn’t go for that. He didn’t know her well enough, might think she was planning to take off for some reason. Which of course was exactly what she was planning, but….
Or she could just tell them the truth. Hasan was no threat to them here while the devices were operating. Jordan toyed with that idea for a moment, then pushed it aside. The people here in Los Alamos were friendly with the djinn in Santa Fe. Maybe they would make a radio call to Santa Fe to check in, and then someone there would say that Hasan wasn’t a member of their group, was in fact openly hostile to humans. Maybe Brent and Lindsay and Shawn were neutral enough when it came to dealing with djinn, but all it would take was one member of the Los Alamos community with a grudge that could only be settled by seeking personal revenge, and Hasan’s life would be on the line. How on earth could she put the person she loved in danger like that? Better to slip away and hope for the best.
“The coffee smells good,” Hasan said.
Jordan had been staring out the window at the small backyard as the coffee brewed. The sound of the djinn’s voice made her jump slightly, but then she turned and smiled at him. “You should have called for me to come help you down the stairs.”
“It was all right. I went slowly.”
He moved across the room so he could take a seat at the little bistro set by the window. In the cheerful morning light, he did look a bit better. His mouth wasn’t quite so taut and strained, and, while the dark circles under his eyes hadn’t disappeared completely, they didn’t seem as heavy. Now he just looked tired, rather than like someone who was about to keel over at any second.
“The coffee will be ready in a minute,” she said, then went to fetch a couple of mugs down from the cupboards. “There’s not much for breakfast except some packaged oatmeal, though.”
“That will be fine. It’s food.”
Jordan wondered if he’d feel the same way after he’d actually consumed the stuff, but she refrained from comment. Instead, she looked back out the window, even though there was nothing to see out there except a slightly rusty charcoal grill and a dilapidated patio set made out of weather-aged redwood. Clearly, whoever had been in charge of prepping the townhouse for future occupation hadn’t worried too much about the exterior accoutrements.
“I still don’t know what to do about a car,” she said, turning back toward Hasan. “About the best thing I can think of is to go to the city center and ask if I can be given my work detail today. Shawn had made it sound as if they’d provide me with a car once I had an actual assignment, so I think that might be the only way to accomplish this without turning into a car thief. And since I don’t know how to hot-wire a car, I probably wouldn’t be very good at that anyway.”
“I don’t want you to be a thief,” Hasan said.
“Well, I’ll still be taking a car. It’s just that it won’t feel so bad if someone else actually hands me the keys.” The coffee looked as if it had dripped all it was going to drip, so she retrieved the carafe and poured some for Hasan, and then filled her own mug. “There’s no milk, but I think I saw some sugar in the pantry — ”
“This is fine. I need it to be as strong as possible.”
Yes, she supposed he did. She watched as he raised the mug to his lips, then paused. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s very hot,” he told her, then set the mug back down. “Normally that would not be a problem, but now — ”
Now, he had no tolerance. What other minor inconveniences that he never would have noticed while in possession of his djinn powers were now springing to the forefront, showing him just how weak he truly was?
She really had to get him out of here.
“Well, drink it when you’re ready,” she said, hoping that she sounded reassuring rather than just plain worried. “I’ll go ahead and boil some water to make the oatmeal.”
He nodded, and she went about the mundane tasks of filling the kettle and putting it on the stovetop, then fetching them some bowls and emptying a packet of oatmeal into each one. By the time she was done, the coffee had cooled enough that she could take a few cautious sips. Hasan followed suit, eyes closing briefly as he swallowed the harsh liquid. Definitely not the best coffee she’d ever made, but they weren’t going for rich taste, just the effect it would have.
“And they would get the car back,” Hasan pointed out, picking up the earlier thread of the conversation.
“True. Well, it sounds as if that’s our plan. After we’re done eating, I’ll take a quick shower and then head downtown.”
Another nod, as though he didn’t want to expend the effort required to give a verbal reply. Jordan noticed how he set down his mug of coffee after almost every sip, how his hands had begun to shake again. Whatever benefit he might have gotten from the previous night’s sleep appeared to be slipping away quickly.
The kettle began to whistle, and she got up and lifted it from the burner, then poured enough into each bowl to get the oatmeal to a consistency somewhere between paste and glue. At least these
were the pre-flavored kind — maple and brown sugar for her, cinnamon and spice for Hasan — so they shouldn’t actually taste like glue. Much.
She gave him his bowl of oatmeal, then sat down and drank some more coffee before moving on to the food. It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared, although the amount provided by each packet seemed pretty meager. She’d probably be hungry again well before lunchtime. That was okay; she and hunger were old friends. She could cope. However, the short time she’d spent with Hasan had already spoiled her. It had been such a refreshing change to have ample food, all of it delicious, and as varied as it was tasty.
“I can make another packet up for you, if you want,” she told Hasan, who showed more enthusiasm for eating the food than he had drinking his coffee, and who was making the oatmeal disappear at a rapid rate.
“No, this should be fine. I don’t want to make you waste more time taking care of me. The important thing is for you to go see Shawn and try to get a car.”
Jordan wanted to protest, but she knew Hasan was probably right. A clock ticking on the wall opposite the stove told her it was now almost eight. Assuming the clock was correct — and she really didn’t have any way of knowing for sure — the hour was still early enough, but not so early that people wouldn’t already be working. Maybe. After all, she’d arrived here in the middle of the day, and so didn’t have much of an idea as to how they structured their work schedules.
Better safe than sorry, though. She hurriedly ate her oatmeal, then excused herself so she could go take a shower. A fast one, fewer than five minutes, and she didn’t bother to wash her hair, since she’d done that the day before. Less than half an hour had elapsed by the time she was back downstairs, dressed and ready to go.
It looked like Hasan had poured himself another cup of coffee, because it was nearly full again. He was staring out the window, expression far away, as she came into the kitchen, but he turned back toward her as she approached, and gave her a slight smile.
“The coffee is helping.”
“Good. Hopefully, I won’t be gone too long. Will you be okay here without me?”
“Yes. I’ll be waiting.”
She’d brought his boots with her so he wouldn’t have to climb the stairs again. Now she set them down on the floor next to where he sat. “Here you go. I’ve already packed my things, so once I’m back, I’ll just have to run upstairs and grab them. We can be out of here in less than five minutes. Sound good?”
“Yes.”
Oh, how she wanted to lean down and kiss him, feel his lips again. He’d been oddly reticent, though. Ashamed of how weak he looked? No shame in that, not with Miles Odekirk’s devices doing their best to suck every bit of stray energy out of him. But she realized she should respect Hasan’s wishes, and so she only touched his shoulder briefly and said, “Hang tight. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Jordan went out to the garage and retrieved the helmet from where it was hanging on a peg. Someone had disengaged the motor for the garage door opener, probably because it used too much electricity, and so she pushed the door up on her own, wheeled out the scooter, and closed the door again. Maybe it would have been better to leave it open — she’d have to waste valuable time opening it when she got back — but no one else on the street had their garage door standing open, and she didn’t want to attract any notice.
The breeze was cool, blowing down from the northwest again, although at least the sun felt warm, even through the long-sleeved T-shirt she wore. As she’d guessed, people were already out and about, most of them on foot, although she saw two pickup trucks, their extended cabs packed to the gills with men, heading out of town, up toward the mountains. What they were up to, she wasn’t sure. Maybe going to cut down some trees, to begin stockpiling for the long winter months ahead?
Whatever they were doing, it wasn’t any of her concern. She’d be long gone by then.
She hoped.
The parking lot at the city center held about ten cars and trucks. Jordan left the scooter in the motorcycle parking area and went inside the main building, then headed upstairs to the suite where she’d met with Shawn Gutierrez and Katelyn Fonseca the day before. To her relief, Katelyn was sitting at the desk in the reception area, a walkie-talkie in one hand and an expression of concern on her pretty features. Like Lindsay, Katelyn was almost model-perfect when it came to her looks, a perfect match for Shawn, who was also very good-looking. From what Jordan had seen so far, the people in Los Alamos had a damn good gene pool for starting to repopulate the earth.
As Jordan approached the desk, Katelyn set down the walkie-talkie and made her best attempt at a friendly smile. “Hi, Jordan. I heard you have a friend visiting you.”
Of course the men who’d dropped off Hasan would’ve reported his arrival. She was naïve to think that word wouldn’t have gotten around. “Yes, Hank. We, um…met up in Chama.”
Katelyn’s smile turned sly. “I get the picture. How is he doing? Mitch said he seemed really tired.”
“He’s fine. He’d walked a long way after his supplies ran out. He’s sleeping now.” That all sounded mostly plausible, didn’t it? Jordan had to hope so.
“Well, I’m glad the guys found him, then. So what can I do for you? I would’ve thought you’d be staying in with Hank.”
“Oh, I’ll check on him later, but I thought it might be a good idea for me to get out for a while. That way, I wouldn’t wake him up by accident. So, even though I know you and Shawn told me I had a few days to get settled in, I thought I’d still come by and ask if there was anything you needed help with.”
At those words, an expression of relief passed over Katelyn’s face. “Actually, there is. Lindsay started having some pains last night — ”
“Oh, no,” Jordan broke in. With the way Lindsay had looked and acted the day before, this news wasn’t entirely unexpected, but still. “Did she have the baby?”
“No. Ellen — she used to be an RN and is the town doctor now, basically — anyway, she said that it still might be a few days, but that Lindsay had been overdoing it and needed to stay in bed until the baby was ready to come. So she’s stuck at home by herself, probably going crazy with waiting. If you could go sit with her for a while, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Miles isn’t with her?”
Katelyn made a face. “Have you met Miles?” Obviously, she’d meant that as a rhetorical question, because she continued, “The last thing Lindsay needs is him fidgeting all over her, or worse, fretting about the work he’s not getting done while he’s there with her. He’s better off working at the lab until he’s really needed.”
“I guess I can see that.”
“Awesome. Their house is up on Barranca Road. Number 144. I’ll get you a map.”
Katelyn rose from her chair and went over to a file cabinet, then pulled out a piece of paper with a photocopied map of Los Alamos on it. “They made a bunch of these back when people were still coming here and needed to know how to get around. It’s kind of circuitous, because you can’t just cut straight across — all these plateaus and ravines. But if you go up to 501 and hang a right, then turn left on San Ildefonso, it’ll get you there.”
“I’ll find it,” Jordan promised, although inwardly she’d already begun to fret. She didn’t need a car for this errand, which meant Katelyn wasn’t going to give her one. And here she’d promised Hasan this wouldn’t take very long.
Well, there wasn’t much she could do about it now. Jordan glanced over the map one more time, then thanked Katelyn and went back out to the parking lot to reclaim her scooter. As she headed south on Trinity Drive, she tried not to curse, just because riding along on a scooter and mouthing obscenities under her breath was probably a good way to get a lot of unwanted attention.
The neighborhood became residential almost as soon as she turned onto 501, also known as Diamond Drive. It wound its way along, following the contours of the hills. Jordan passed a golf course, noted that the properties around her were growin
g steadily larger, more expensive.
The house that Miles and Lindsay occupied was also very large, on a lot that backed up to open hillside. Considering that he was the town’s resident genius…and savior…Jordan supposed it made sense that he would have been given one of Los Alamos’ nicest properties to live in.
She parked the scooter at the curb and walked up to the front door, trying not to be intimidated by the tall entryway, the manicured lawn. How did they keep the grass so perfect? Maybe one of the kids she’d seen playing ball the day before helped out; she certainly couldn’t imagine Miles Odekirk pushing a lawnmower around. Or maybe they used goats as lawn-grooming devices, just as Hasan did. And how could they justify the water expenditure? Jordan certainly wasn’t going to ask, but she couldn’t help wondering.
Should she knock, or just go in? Katelyn had made it sound as if Lindsay was more or less bedridden, so it wasn’t as if she was in any position to answer the door. Jordan decided to compromise by cracking the door open — it wasn’t locked — and calling inside through the crack, “Lindsay? It’s Jordan Wells. Katelyn sent me over to check on you.”
“In the family room,” Lindsay called back. She didn’t sound weak, or in pain. If anything, she sounded irritated. Jordan could only hope that irritation stemmed from being confined to a bed or couch, and not because of Jordan barging in on her.
She went inside, trying not to stare. The place was sleek and modern, the sort of house you could imagine belonging to a nuclear physicist. Did physicists make enough to afford this kind of home? Not that those sorts of concerns were a factor anymore. There were no longer any such things as mortgages. Still, this house was impeccably decorated, from the travertine floors and stacked-stone fireplace to the carefully painted art niches. It didn’t feel like Miles. Maybe he’d lived someplace else here in Los Alamos, and then moved to this house after he got together with Lindsay.
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