Solatium (Emanations, an urban fantasy series Book 2) (19 page)

Kara perked up. “I’ll spend the night here, so Beth doesn’t have to be alone.”

“No, you won’t,” Gwen said firmly.

Kara stood, her posture combative. Gwen just stared back at her impassively. After a few tense seconds, Kara’s face crumpled, and she started to cry.

Surprisingly, Zion put an arm around her. “Come on.”

The three of them left. None of them really said goodbye to me.

I sat there for a long while after they left, going over their words and actions in my mind. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so confused. In the end, I had to just let it go. Once I did, I felt much better. There really was no reason to worry.

My alarm went off when it was still dark. I had a terrible headache and the vague sense that something was wrong. Then I remembered my mission, and a warm sense of competence and purpose flowed through me.

I showered, dressed quickly, and headed for the door, holding the tiny bunch of things Gwen had allowed me to bring. I stepped out into the hallway and then paused to glance around the room. Seeing Sniggles the bear propped against my pillow made me smile. This place really had become home. It’d be good to come back here when my mission was done.

Still smiling to myself, I closed the door.

The estate’s back entrance was bustling. Crates and bags were piled near the door, and a bunch of staff members were ferrying them out. I watched Koji come in, stack a couple boxes, and lift them. When he straightened up, he saw me and grinned.

He probably doesn’t know where I’m going.

Koji was one of the estate staff — one of the few I’d managed to befriend. People like Koji weren’t told anything important. They were grunts.

That’s wrong.

I shook my head. It wasn’t
wrong
. Just regrettable. You had to be practical about these things.

Then Williams walked in from outside.

My heart rate spiked. Nausea gripped me, and I felt dizzy.

Damn
. I hadn’t had a panic attack in months.

I dropped my pack on the floor, then sat down on it and put my head between my knees. It was either that or faint.

I heard Williams pick up some boxes and head outside.

For a few seconds, I was blessedly alone. My breathing calmed, and I turned my head to the side, so I could see.

The sun was rising. The light leaned its golden shoulder in through the open door. Dust particles swirled in the light according to their own weird logic. It felt like if I could just watch their movement long enough, I would understand.

Koji came back in. “You okay, Beth?”

He gave me a hand up.

“Yeah. I’m all right.”

“You going on this trip?”

I nodded. “Is there a pack around here that might be mine?”

“Yeah, just outside. Come on.”

I followed him out. An extended-cab pickup was parked in the driveway. It was hitched to a big horse trailer. Made sense — we’d need horses for the trip. The other world didn’t have the same technology. As far as I knew, it was a King-Arthur-meets-
Stagecoach
kind of place.

Williams was in the pickup’s bed, checking the hitch. He straightened and jumped down, then headed back to the trailer to check the horses.

It suddenly occurred to me that there was only one reason he’d be out here checking the rig — he was driving it. My team included Williams.

The realization brought another wave of nausea and dizziness and, along with it, a weird, phantom pain.

I realized I was having a flashback, an echo of the endless agony of him drawing on me. For an instant, I remembered the barrier he’d made — its different layers, all its tiny particles, what it had felt like to make it and try to keep it whole. Then my understanding of it slid away, leaving my heart pounding.

It’s okay to be freaked out
, I told myself. The experience had been traumatic, and it was only a couple days old.

It sure looked like I’d be getting plenty of time to work through it. Two months traveling with Williams. Ugh. I could see why Lord Cordus would choose him — he was supposedly the second strongest Nolander in the organization, after Callie. But it still sucked.

I located my bag, leaning against the side of the house. It was one of those huge frame backpacks. Looking at it, I had some doubts about how far I’d be able to carry it. Good thing Gwen hadn’t let me bring much of my own.

I unzipped the top and stuffed in my handful of underwear. Then I hefted the thing. It was surprisingly doable. My workout regimen had done a lot of good.

I walked around to the pickup’s passenger side and pushed my pack into the backseat. Then I stood there, excited but, for some reason, not quite ready to climb in.

“Were you really gonna leave without saying goodbye?” Andy said from behind me.

For a moment I was irked. Whatever’d been going on with my friends the night before, I didn’t want to embark on my mission feeling all upset and worried.

Then I turned around and realized I very much wanted Andy’s face to be the last thing I saw before I left. He’d become precious to me in a way no one else had. Hanging out with him was easy — no angst, no misunderstandings, no stress. He cared about me. And he made me laugh.

“Yeah,” I said, “I totally was.”

“You’re a dumbass.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Oh, the wit … I can’t take it.”

He grinned and enfolded me in a hug, resting his chin on the top of my head.

“You be careful over there,” he said more seriously. “Come back to us in one piece.”

“I keep telling you guys, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I know, but —”

“You’re the one who needs to be careful, Andy.”

“Hey, you know me.”

“That’s what makes me worry.”

“Jesus, Ryder. You been studying your
Lamest Retorts Ever
book?”

He helped me up into the truck. Williams was already in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead.

Andy stood there as I buckled myself in, smiling at me sadly. Then he leaned over to look at Williams.

“Dude. Anything happens to her, we will fuck you up.”

Williams shot him a micro-glance that said,
You are almost too irritating to live
.

“Uh-huh,” Andy said, as though he’d come to the same interpretation. “You just keep thinking that, especially when —”

Williams hit the gas, and the truck lurched forward, rocking as the trailer squealed into motion, then rocking again as the startled horses moved around inside.

I stuck my head out the open door and looked back at Andy. He was standing in the driveway, giving Williams the finger. He saw me and grinned and switched to waving. I waved back.

Then the driveway curved away from the house, and I couldn’t see him anymore.

I felt a jagged pang of loss, one that made everything around me seem pale and false. But after a few moments, it faded. The trip would fly by. I’d see Andy again in no time.

I leaned my head against the pickup’s window, wishing I could go back to sleep. But I’d dozed for the first three hours of the drive. My sleepiness was gone.

I’m going to have to talk to him sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.

“So, who else is on the team?”

Williams ignored me.

“Look,” I said, “we’re —”

My pocket vibrated.

Maybe it’s Tiffany.

Theo had probably called her, and now she was calling me. I felt a swell of annoyance. I didn’t want to deal with more doubt and negativity. But still, she was my niece.

I pulled my phone out. The area code was 715 — northern Wisconsin — but the number wasn’t Tiffany’s. It was Suzanne Dreisbach’s.

I sat there for a few seconds, paralyzed by the question of whether or not to answer.

Suzanne was my next-door neighbor back in Dorf. Since I’d been in New York, she’d been recruiting neighborhood kids to take care of my pet mouse. She was probably calling about that, but the mouse was supposed to be a secret, and there was Williams, right next to me.

If I don’t answer, he’ll think it’s weird.

“Hello, Suzanne.”

With one finger, I surreptitiously punched the earpiece volume down as low as it would go.

“Hi, Betty! How are you?”

I cringed at the nickname. “Fine, thanks. What’s up?”

“’Fraid I have some bad news. Elaine found the tank empty this morning. I just went over to have a look around, and sure enough, there’s no sign of the little critter.”

I shrugged inwardly. The mouse could probably live out his life quite comfortably on all the crumbs in the crevices and dark corners of my kitchen.

“Oh. Well, that’s too bad. I guess one of the kids … you know. Didn’t do a good job.”

“Beats me, hon. Elaine said the lid was on as tight as can be. I can’t see how it could’ve got out.”

A shiver passed over me, raising the hair on my arms.

“Well, you know, maybe one of the kids was fooling around with it and lost it, and then didn’t want to fess up,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully.

“Mmm, I think you put your finger on it. Well, darn it. I’m sorry about that, Betty. If I’d have thought Elaine would do that, I wouldn’t have picked her.”

“It’s okay. Don’t let it worry you.”

“You want me to set a trap?”

“No! I mean, no thanks. Just leave it.”

“I mean one of those humane traps, hon. They don’t hurt ’em — just pop ’em into a compartment.”

“Um … okay. If you want to try, that’d be great. But, you know. Don’t go to too much trouble.”

“No problem at all. So, when are you coming home, anyway?”

And that was the problem with talking to Suzanne. She was a gossip hound.

“I’m not sure. But I’ll drop you a line as soon as I know. Thanks so much, Suzanne.”

“Well, okay, bye —”

“Thanks. Bye!”

I ended the call and sat staring straight out the windshield. After a minute I realized I was very obviously not looking at Williams. That probably seemed suspicious. So I glanced at him and jumped when I met his eyes — he’d been looking at me. I jerked my gaze away and felt myself flushing.

Jesus. Could you act any more suspicious? Say something!

“That was my neighbor. Kid lost my snow shovel.”

Snow shovel? Seriously? It’s the first week of October.

“Winter comes early up there.”

Oh for god’s sake. He lives in Minneapolis.

“So she’s going to, you know, look for a new one for me. At garage sales.”

Right. Because October is when garage sales happen in Wisconsin. Just shut up. You’re making it worse.

Williams didn’t say anything.

I sighed and leaned my head against the window. Whatever. The mouse was gone. Not much point worrying about it — the secret would be safe, now. And the explanation I’d come up with for Suzanne was probably even true. Any kid could leave a lid loose. It was amazing it hadn’t happened sooner.

For a second, the memory of the tiny creature’s warm, soft body nestled against the back of my neck came back so powerfully that I felt it all over again. Then the sensation faded, leaving me feeling sadder than I had any right to be. It was just a mouse.

Somewhere south of D.C., Williams pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of a restaurant called the Crab Caboose. It looked run-down and none too clean.