"Josette
—" Raphael began, but she interrupted him.
She waved it off with her hand and drank down the glass of milk that was on the tray of food. It was thick and nearly warm, and richer than she remembered tasting in a long time. But then she remembered that Raphael was mated to a cat, and a rich one to boot. Small surprise there would be quality whole milk with extra butterfat in the house. After the last swallow, she spoke. "I know. I can't explain it. It doesn't make logical sense. It's probably a trap. But I have no choice. I
have
to get Rick. He needs to come with me to Florida. I
—" She struggled to find the right words, but they wouldn't come. It wasn't just that she wanted Rick safe, he was necessary to this. She was sure of it, even though the future was still just a muddy haze in her head. Since she couldn't explain the feeling she used logic instead.
"Finding Rick and getting to Florida may be the only chance we've got to save Charles and the others. I can't fly commercial. I don't have any identification. And Bruce was the only one with the specifics as to where they're staying. I know the general area. I don't have an address."
Raphael paled.
"Charles
and the others?" He raised his hand before she could say anything more. "Never mind. I don't need to know. I don't even
want
to know."
"I wouldn't tell you details even if you wanted me to. But we're in the middle of something important enough that I'll do whatever it takes." She knew she sounded grim. She couldn't help it. The situation just kept going from bad to worse. But she wouldn't give up.
"All right." Raphael was suddenly all business. The joking exterior simply vanished, leaving him looking very hard, and very, very, dangerous. "Tell me what you need." Raphael pulled a pen out of his pocket. Grabbing an envelope from a stack of mail on one of the end tables, he flipped it over and got ready to make a list.
She thought about it for a moment before ticking items off on her fingers. "I'll need a gun and silver ammunition, a sterile cell phone, a car, some cash. I want you to stay here. Rick has at least heard of you. He mentioned your name once, and I know he's met Raven. If he calls in, you can contact me. Just give me a code word so I know it's you. In the meantime, try to find a way to get hold of Amber and call me with the number. Maybe Lucas has been in touch with his wife, Tatya. I don't know. But I need to find out where the hell I'm supposed to be going. If she won't tell you have
her
call me. But everything is going to shit here, and I am
not
going into this blind."
She cut another bite from the meat. Hungry or not, she needed her strength. Pausing with the bite halfway to her mouth, another thought occurred to her. "Oh, and if you can get me one of those sports watches that have the date with the year I'd appreciate it."
Raphael glanced up from the list. He met her eyes without hesitation or flinching. His voice held the unmistakable note of command. "Take the car outside. It's the pack vehicle. If you wreck it, don't worry. I'll just put in to the council for another. Now go freshen up. Cat keeps the guest bath fully stocked. Use whatever you want. I've got work to do."
She gathered up the clothing he'd left on the coffee table and followed his directions down the hall to the guest bathroom.
It was a beautiful room, not large, but airy, with cream-colored tile and cream-on-cream-striped wallpaper. A skylight with frosted safety glass let in light that was both bright and softly diffused. The plants scattered around the room seemed to love it. They flourished, giving the room color and warmth. The towels and floor mat were a warm shade of gold. They perfectly matched the color in the floral pattern curtains and were luxurious enough to sink into. Opening the linen closet, she found that Raphael hadn't exaggerated. There was a wide variety of soaps, toothbrushes, bath oils, and lotions; really everything she could possibly want, including her favorite mouthwash and toothpaste.
She started with her teeth. She brushed thoroughly before using mouthwash. Next came a shower, setting the water as hot as she could stand it with the shower massage set to high. It was handheld, giving her the ability to put the spray directly on the spots that were aching the most. It felt utterly wonderful
— right up until the vision hit.
She was inside an aircraft hangar. It was mostly a large open space, made smaller by the plane that had been backed in through the open door. Metal trusses painted primer brown supported an insulation board, which was intended to keep the heat from being unbearable. Thus far it wasn't too bad, but judging from the angle of the light pouring through the windows it was still early morning. On a sunny afternoon it would probably be miserable.
The concrete floor was mostly bare, although a large tarp had been spread on the floor beneath the engine area of an old twin-prop plane. The "hood" was propped open, and Bruce stood chatting amiably with a slender Latino man wearing stained gold overalls. His skin bore the mark of old acne scars, but his smile was warm, his eyes large and dark. The two men were in the middle of an animated conversation, discussing the pros and cons of various aircraft models, complaining about the cost of flight insurance.
The far right wall of the building was used for
storage. Ready-to-assemble shelving held boxes of spare parts, paint cans, and various miscellany. A large wheeled toolbox stood behind a "mule" utility vehicle that could be used for towing a small plane if need be.
Josette
focused her gaze on the bottom shelf. She wasn't sure, but she thought she'd seen movement. Yes, there. She exerted an effort, managing to freeze the image in place, adjust the focus as though she were using the zoom on a VCR.
It was a snake. Not a large one, though it wouldn't matter. It was a horned viper. Since they weren't even remotely native to New Mexico and were generally even smaller than the specimen in hiding, she had no doubt he was a Sazi. Was this scene before or after she was attacked at the motel? She couldn't judge by anything she could see.
She pulled back inside the vision, watching the scene again from a distance.
A shadow crossed the floor near the doorway. Both fell silent, turning to see
…
Josette,
standing there, weary and filthy! But she hadn't been there yet. Was this a future yet to be, or an alternative present where she hadn't boarded the train? The alternative threads of time were the most frustrating. It might happen, or not. The future was often like that, too, but the present far worse.
"Bruce? They told me I could find you here."
Bruce turned.
"Josette,
thank God!" The relief
in his voice was palpable. The part of her mind that was still in the present cringed, because she knew, or thought she knew, what would happen next. This wasn't her. It was an impersonator. Would the woman be able to fool Rick, too?
He started to take a step, hurrying toward her. "You look terrible, are you all right?"
It was a consummate job of acting. She knew now the woman was acting. She was swaying, almost gray with exhaustion. Bruce hurried forward, grabbing her in his arms so that she wouldn't fall.
But it was her arms that held
him,
held him tight, so that even when the garage door began to close, and the snake darted out from hiding, he couldn't escape.
"Josette
…
Aspen!"
She heard her name, felt the crack of a palm against her cheek. The pain gave her something to center on, brought her, gasping, back into her own body. She was lying nude and soaking wet, on the floor of Raphael's guest bath. She had a headache and a lump the size of a goose egg on the back of her head. Raphael was kneeling in a puddle on the floor beside her, wide, wet stains spreading on the legs of his jeans. She blinked twice, slowly trying to acclimate to the time. So, Bruce had been loyal and faithful, as Charles had believed. And now he was dead, and she was indirectly to blame.
"It is a damned good thing my wife isn't here.
Otherwise, I'd have a lot of explaining to do." He tried to make a joke of it, but his eyes were dark. She could scent the worry thick in the air.
Josette
clutched at his arms, her nails digging into his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt in her excitement. "I'm an idiot! You're wife's a
telepath.
She can contact Amber and
—" She let the sentence trail off as she watched him shaking his head sadly.
"I'm sorry, Aspen, but ever since Cat got pregnant
…
it's not working. Betty thinks it's just the baby hormones wreaking havoc, but we can't be sure, and the only person who would've known is dead."
"Shit!"
Josette
swore with feeling. She turned onto her side, grabbing the edge of the vanity to haul herself upward.
"That's exactly what Lucas said when he asked. Believe me, Cat's miserable over it."
"Tell her not to be. It's not her fault. We'll manage. We always have before." Once she was steadily on her feet
Josette
grabbed the nearest towel and began patting at her hair. The towel came away stained with blood. She winced. Her head really did hurt. "How did you know I was in trouble?"
"I heard you fall." He sighed. "I was still a little worried, so I was listening."
"Ah."
He stood and stepped close, placing his hand gently on the lump on her head.
Josette
felt the warmth of
healing magic pouring over her. The pain receded immediately, fading slowly. It didn't disappear entirely, but she felt much clearer headed. He might not be a full healer, but it was a damned sight better than driving around with a concussion.
"Thank you." She went up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. "For everything."
He turned, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "I just wish I could do more. I owe you more than I can say for setting me and Cat up down here."
"It was nothing," she protested.
"The hell you say." Raphael tapped her on the nose with his index finger. "Using the information from your gift to put me in touch with a pack that needed an alpha and would accept his jaguar mate is hardly 'nothing.' Now if you're okay, I'll head into the other room and get back to work."
"I'm fine." She wasn't, but it didn't matter. They had too much to do for him to be in here fussing over her. He scented the lie, she could see it in the look he cast over his shoulder as he went out the door. Still, he went, leaving her to turn off the still-running shower and finish getting ready.
When she emerged from the bathroom five minutes later she was clean, dry, and dressed. She realized with a small laugh that she looked like a teenager in the clothing he'd provided: black cotton running shorts with a black sports bra under a black T-shirt that read "Don't get even. Get ODD." Even
the flip-flops he provided matched. They were made of simple black rubber and made that odd flapping sound when she walked that no other type of shoe would.
She turned right, moving toward the sound of voices in the living room. Raphael was talking with Carly, the alpha female wolf for the Albuquerque pack. She'd never met her, just heard about her from Amber. Still, she seemed very nice.
"I brought what you wanted, Raphael, but are you sure this laminator will be heavy-duty enough for what you're planning?"
"It'll be fine. Plug it in over there by the end table so it can start heating up."
"What are you going to be laminating?"
Josette
asked. She stepped out of the hallway into a scene of intense activity. Carly was petite and delicate with the face of a model. Wide dark eyes were framed by the longest lashes
Josette
had ever seen. Her light brown hair had been expensively styled and frosted. Wearing a lavender business suit, she looked every inch the executive woman even as she crawled around on the floor to plug the laminating machine into the wall socket. A large plastic sack with the logo of an office supplies store and another from a twenty-four-hour chain grocery and drugstore lay on the floor next to her
Both of them looked up and smiled when they heard
Josette
walk in.
Raphael answered her with calm professionalism. "If you can't find Bruce and his plane, and wind up taking a commercial flight, you'll need identification. I don't have time to work from scratch, so I'm going to adapt the identity documents that my wife used recently. What do you think of the name Cerise Boudreaux?"
She shrugged. She'd heard worse. He sighed and shook his head as he turned on a bright magnifying light. "I don't like doing it, but we're in a time crunch and we don't have a lot of options." Working with a single-edged razor blade, he began to cut a photograph to fit on what
Josette
assumed was going to be her driver's license.
"If you do wind up having to use this ID
—" He didn't look up when he spoke, his eyes were focused intently on his work. "Be sure to use a little push of illusion or persuasion. I'm doing the best that I can, but—" He let the sentence drag off.
"It'll be fine."
Josette
assured him. She looked around the room, trying to decide where she'd be of most benefit. "So, what should I be doing?"
"There's a prepaid phone in that bag over there." Raphael gave a slight nod in the direction of the plastic sacks. "There should be directions on the box on how you can go online to activate it. Computer's in the office upstairs. Try not to be intimidated by it. Catherine's a bit of a techno-junkie."
"Right." She crossed the room and picked up the
bag. The phone was there, along with a card for airtime, a package of underpants, a women's wallet, and a sports watch. She pulled the timepiece from its packaging and strapped it onto her wrist. It was 10:27. It had only been twenty-seven minutes since she'd woken up on Raphael's couch. Amazing.
"It's the first door on the right at the top of the stairs, across from the bathroom. You're welcome to use the phone to do it, but I don't recommend it." He still didn't look up. He was holding a pair of tweezers with the cut photo in his hands and was getting ready to affix it to the old license. It would need to line up perfectly, or the fake would be obvious and the attempt ruined.
"It's always faster to activate those prepaid phones online around here. They must be short staffed at the local number. It takes forever." Carly agreed.
"All right." She followed his directions and found herself in a very nice office. Decorated in pale blues and gold, the furniture and built-in bookcases were made from solid oak polished to a golden gleam. Three top-of-the-line computers graced the desktop, attached together by an impressive set of what she presumed were servers and routers and other things she'd only heard about on the Internet, while a row of office machines was lined up on the credenza behind.
Taking a seat in the leather desk chair, she turned on the machine in the center. It started up with amazing speed and before a half minute was out, according
to her new watch, the desktop was loaded and the Internet launched. She began the series of steps that would activate the telephone for her use. In the other room she heard the phone ring. While she punched the keys on the phone according to the directions on the computer screen she half-listened to Raphael's side of a conversation with Tatyana Santiago, Lucas's wife.
"Tatya, have you heard from Lucas? Can you get in touch with him? I need Lucas to call me
immediately.
It's a Wolven matter. Top security clearance."
There was a pause.
Josette
couldn't hear Tatya's response, but she could deduce the gist of it from Raphael's half of the conversation. She'd only met Lucas's wife once, during a stopover visit to see Charles and Amber at her home. The woman was lovely and sophisticated, but a little too aggressive for Josette's taste. She had no doubt the alpha wolf could be formidable in a crisis
—regardless of which side she was on.
"Do what you can, as fast as you can. The matter is time sensitive." He paused. "And thank you."
He laughed at whatever she said, and answered, "I may just do that."
The phone in her hand beeped, indicating that it was ready. It would need to charge some more. The instructions suggested plugging it into a wall outlet for twenty-four hours. That wasn't practical. Hopefully a couple of hours plugged into the cigarette
lighter of the car would be good enough for their purposes. They only needed it for a few calls after all.