by Zoe Chant
He took a deep breath. Maybe he should leave it where it was. He could always use it later. But he’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. He removed the vial, wrapped it carefully in a shirt, and crammed it into the bottom of his duffel bag.
You won’t have the nerve to try it, jeered his hellhound. You’ll never be rid of me.
Ransom packed quickly, trying not to think too hard about the vial that could destroy his hellhound… or kill him trying.
A few minutes later, he unlocked and opened the door, and found Natalie sitting on the floor, twisted into a painful-looking pretzel that she clearly found perfectly comfortable, engrossed in Houdini’s Escapes and Magic: Prepared from Houdini’s Private Notebooks.
Ransom, who never loaned any of his precious out of print books to anyone, saw how reverently she turned the pages and found himself saying, “You can borrow it if you like.”
“Can I? I promise to be careful with it.”
“I know.” He watched her tuck it away, thought how fun it would be to discuss books with her, and said, “You can borrow any of mine.”
She pounced with an eagerness that made him smile. He leaned over to see what she picked out, enjoying her pleasure in looking over his collection.
“You’ve got good taste,” she remarked as she pulled out a horror novel whose cover depicted a zombie skeleton rabbit climbing out of a magician’s hat.
“I think you’re the first person who’s ever looked at Abracadabra and said that.”
“Only the coolest people are interested in stage magic,” she replied, tucking the book beside Houdini’s Escapes and Magic. “Also, I love horror. The trashier, the better. So there’s another point to you. Are you a chemist? You have a lot of chemistry books.”
He thought guiltily of the tincture of shiftsilver, which he’d used his old skills to make, and even more guiltily of his actual career in biochemistry. “Not anymore.”
“Pick something out for me. Something you think I’ll enjoy.”
That was easy; he’d already been thinking of recommending it to her, the instant she’d mentioned trashy horror. “Since you missed prom… Have a Prom Dress.”
She pounced delightedly on the novel, whose cover showed a teenage girl confronted by a glowing prom dress hanging in a closet. “Did you miss prom too? Did you wish you’d gone with a girl in a haunted prom dress?”
“I collect 80s horror,” he said, dodging the question. “That’s from the Point Horror line. See, I also have The Babysitter, Trick or Treat, Party Line…”
“You definitely missed prom,” Natalie said, laughing. She laid Prom Dress atop Abracadabra, then added Trick or Treat. “Now pick another. Something less on-the-nose.”
Acutely aware of her gaze, he looked over his bookcase. He considered books with dogs and books about road trips, then ruled those out, along with books about circuses, as too on-the-nose. Then he saw one which didn’t have anything to do with Natalie’s life, but which he was certain she’d enjoy. “Here you go. Modesty Blaise. She’s kind of a female James Bond.”
“Might be a little on-the-nose,” she replied. “I always wanted to be a secret agent.”
“I didn’t know that. I’m a psychic, not a telepath.”
“I love that I’m about to go on a road trip with a man who has to make that distinction,” she remarked, and packed the books with a level of care that might have even gone beyond what he would have done himself.
They shooed the puppies into their crate and headed for the car rental. Natalie was bent over, wiggling her fingers at the puppies in the carrier, when the salesman came out. To Ransom, he said, “I have a nice black Honda Civic. Or if you’d prefer a larger car, I have a brand-new gray Ford Fusion.”
A brand new car would attract more attention. And Natalie might be more comfortable learning to drive a smaller car. Ransom was about to say he’d take the Honda when she straightened up.
The salesman took one look at her, his gaze lingering on her hair, and said, “Actually… Forget what I just said. I have the perfect car for you.”
“What is it?” Natalie asked.
The salesman actually winked. “Let me show it to you.”
Ransom and Natalie glanced at each other as they followed the salesman to the parking lot, Ransom lugging the puppy carrier.
“Is this how car rentals usually work?” Natalie asked.
“No, never.” It was so unusual, in fact, that his normal level of caution was raised to something approaching paranoia. Ransom made sure that his body was between her and the salesman, then handed her the carrier so he could shield the pups too.
“Oof,” Natalie muttered. The puppies weren’t heavy individually, but they were together, and so was the sturdy carrier.
“Sorry,” Ransom said quietly, his attention still fixed on the salesman. “I’ll explain later.”
The salesman, oblivious to their conversation, led them around a corner and flung out his hand. “There! That’s your car! Isn’t she a beauty?”
Natalie exhaled a long, delighted breath as they beheld the most attention-attracting car Ransom had ever seen. It was a cherry-red Mustang convertible, sleek and sporty and riding low.
To Natalie, the salesman said, “The moment I saw you, I knew that was the car for you.” Barely glancing at Ransom, he said, “You two.” Back to Natalie, he went on, “Imagine riding in that car, your hair blowing in the wind. Ever driven a Mustang before?”
“No, never,” said Natalie, sliding a wicked glance at Ransom.
“You won’t believe how fast and smooth she is. And responsive! She stops and starts on a dime. And look at this!” The salesman opened the passenger door. The Mustang symbol of the rearing horse was cast on the garage floor in light.
“Ooh,” said Natalie.
“You’re going to love this car. Shall we take her for a spin?”
Ransom felt like a heel, breaking up the swiftly developing love affair between Natalie and the Mustang convertible, but he had to stop it before it went any farther. “We wanted something discreet, remember? This car is going to attract the attention of every cop on the road. We’ll pay for it twice over in tickets.”
“Not if you drive sensibly,” said the salesman—to Ransom, not Natalie. “Which I’m sure you do!”
“I do, but…”
“Go on, give her a try,” urged the salesman. “Which of you would like to go first?”
“He would,” Natalie said, sticking the puppy carrier in the back seat. She climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up. “Come on! I want to feel the wind in my hair!”
With no other alternative, Ransom took the keys. They included a silver key ornament in the shape of a rearing mustang. He started the car, then gently pressed down on the gas. The car leaped forward.
“Whee!” squealed Natalie.
Heidi gave a startled yelp.
Ransom, hurriedly lessening the pressure, muttered, “This car isn’t responsive, it’s practically telepathic.”
“I love it. Take it outside!”
Ransom could see the salesman in the rear view mirror. He had to at least make the pretense of a test drive. Leaving the parking lot, he began driving down a city street. Natalie’s hair blew back in the wind, sparkling and glittering in the sun like a dragon’s treasure heap of precious gems.
“It does suit you,” he admitted. “But it really will attract attention. And I don’t mean from police at speeding traps.”
“From the wizard-scientists? If they’re as powerful as you say, a cool car shouldn’t make a difference in them noticing us, right?”
Ransom hesitated. He hadn’t been thinking of the wizard-scientists, exactly.
She pounced like a cat. “And they already know who you are. And where you work! Being generally inconspicuous won’t help with that.”
He didn’t want her wondering why, in that case, he was trying to be generally inconspicuous. “You’re right. And it does drive beautifully.”
>
He swung the car back into the parking lot and stopped on a dime.
“Well?” said the salesman.
“I love it,” said Natalie.
“We’ll take it,” said Ransom.
As they pulled out, he said, “There’s a short way to get to Tomato Land, and a long way. The long way is more scenic—it runs along the ocean. The short way is basically fields and cows.”
“Do you even need to ask?” Natalie inquired, grinning.
“Scenic it is.”
He had driven on that highway before, though not that exact route. But driving alone in a rental car selected specifically for being boring was nothing like driving in a sports car with the top rolled down, with Natalie beside him and a pair of teleporting puppies in the back seat. Sunlight glimmered on the blue-green water. He could smell sea brine and wildflowers and the scent of his own shampoo in her hair. He’d never even noticed that it had a smell before, but it did, woodsy and clean.
“What are you going to do when we’re done with my trip?” she asked.
It was hard to imagine a life without his team and without Natalie. Without the Marines, too. And before he’d had the Marines… well, he couldn’t go back to that.
The silence stretched out, and she said, “Would you go back to the Defenders, if you could? If your boss dropped the idea of trying to control how you used your power?”
Roland would have to drop some other things, too. And after the way Ransom had left, he couldn’t imagine them taking him back. But she’d said if, so he said, “Hypothetically… yes.”
“I bet Merlin would put in a word for you with your boss, if you asked him.” She grinned. “Maybe even if you didn’t ask.”
Ransom shrugged. Merlin would put in a word for anyone in need. He was that kind of guy. And Roland would know that. Merlin’s word, should it materialize, wouldn’t carry any weight.
“He told me about Pete already, from when they were Marines,” she went on. “Merlin said he wasn’t sure if Pete liked him, but he was incredibly brave and had a big heart.”
“That’s true. And Pete does like him. He just gets exasperated sometimes.”
“He sounds like the kind of guy who might also put in a word for you.”
“Maybe.” But he doubted it. Pete’s power had allowed him to get into Ransom’s mind. Pete had claimed he hadn’t seen any of his secrets, but had only gotten a general impression of what it felt like to be him. Since Pete hadn’t immediately attacked him, the no-secrets part had to be true. But even a general impression seemed unlikely to make Pete want him back.
“And there’s one other guy, right? The freelancer, Carter. What’s he like? You said he’d been experimented on by Apex, the guys before the wizard-scientists. What does he shift into?”
“I don’t know.”
Natalie looked disappointed. “Oh—you must really not know each other, then.”
“No, it’s not that.” He knew where she was going with all this, and he was tempted to ask her to drop it. But that could backfire. Better to simply answer her questions and move on.
“Carter was born a snow leopard shifter, but Apex did something to him. He can still shift, but not into a snow leopard. He won’t say what it is, and none of us have seen it.”
“Don’t you know, though?” Hurriedly, she added, “I don’t mean that you’d deliberately spy on him, but you said you can’t control your power, so I thought it might’ve just shown you.”
“It hasn’t. There’s something odd about Carter, or about what they did to him. A kind of… interference. My power doesn’t pick up on him at all. He’s like a blank spot.”
“But are you close?”
He knew what question she was asking—would Carter intervene on his behalf—but he replied to the literal one. They had the same answer, anyway. “Carter’s been asked to join the team a bunch of times, and he’s never agreed. He keeps us all at arms’ distance, and he’s been very clear about wanting things to stay that way.”
To fend off further questions, he added, “I’ll figure out Defenders after the trip is over. While we’re on the road trip, I want to focus on the road trip.”
As he’d expected, this struck her as completely reasonable. With a smile, she said, “Good idea. I promise not to bug you about it till we’re back in Refuge City.”
They swung around a curve, and she gasped in delight. Paragliders were drifting in the air above the ocean, dangling from their single crescent wings. The sky was very blue, without a cloud, and the bright colors of their gliders stood out like fragments of a rainbow.
“Have you done that yet?” Ransom asked.
“I have—it was on my list—but nowhere near this pretty. Maybe we could make a big circle and do it at the very end of our trip. Make sure we go out on a high note.”
Ransom, who had been about to suggest that they try it after Tomato Land, felt a pang in his chest. Go out on a high note felt so final. Why was she so convinced that she couldn’t be saved?
Because her only chance is you, growled his hellhound.
That idea haunted him for the entire rest of the drive, coming back to him at odd moments whenever he managed to forget it. He didn’t want to believe it, but he didn’t have a better explanation. Trying to keep his thoughts quiet enough that the hellhound wouldn’t jump in, he told himself that he’d beat the odds, regardless of what she believed.
As they drove, Natalie kept squirming around in her seat, pulling up her feet and wriggling into a more “comfortable” position that looked like she’d tied herself into a knot. Her hair sparkled like living rubies and emeralds, sapphires and garnets, peridots and aquamarines. She noticed that he was getting a sunburn and rubbed sunscreen into the back of his neck with cool, slippery fingers, so he wouldn’t have to stop to do it himself. When the puppies got bored and teleported out of their crate, she scooped them up and secured them in her lap without missing a beat.
She loved stage magic and puppies and trashy horror novels. She cared about him losing his job when she was at risk of losing her life. She’d held him in her arms when he’d been sick and in pain.
He had to save her.
Chapter 11
“Tomato Land may not live up to your expectations,” Ransom warned her. “If it’s Rustproof Feminist Take Two, we can always ditch it and take the pups to the beach instead.”
“We should definitely take the pups to the beach also.” Natalie paused to untangle herself from Wally’s leash, then to untangle his leash from Heidi’s leash. To Ransom’s relief, they had shown no inclination to randomly teleport when they’d taken the pups on a test walk in a deserted industrial area before continuing on to Tomato Land. “But this is the famous vegetable festival! It must be good.”
“Some people are famous for being famous.”
“Yes, but those are people,” Natalie pointed out. “These are tomatoes.”
Ransom stepped neatly over Heidi’s attempt to clothesline him. “I’m just saying. You grew up in a circus, so a few basic carnival games aren’t going to impress you. Don’t be too disappointed if it’s nothing but a pizza stand, a bored mascot in a red shirt, a booth hawking mass-produced tomato keychains, and…”
His voice trailed off as they turned the corner and came face to face with a carnival ride. It was a gondola pirate ship shaped like a giant knife, swinging in and out of a slot cut into a wall shaped like a giant tomato. Every time the knife-ship “sliced” the tomato, a fountain of red water sprayed out and drenched the cheering, squealing riders.
He stopped dead in his tracks. The ride was so over the top, so absurd, and so utterly committed to the tomato theme that it ran right over the edge of tacky and landed in fabulous.
“Yes?” Natalie said. “You were saying? Something about how boring and ordinary and disappointing Tomato Land would be?”
“I take it all back. Also, I hope you’re not attached to that outfit, because I know you’re not passing up the chance to ride a tomato knife.�
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“I hope you’re not too attached, because I’m not passing up the chance to make you ride it with me.”
Ransom had never in his life imagined riding a tomato knife and getting drenched in fake tomato juice. If he had, he’d have thought it sounded like torture: the absolute worst of the large category of supposedly fun things that made him feel trapped and miserable and like something was wrong with him for not enjoying himself. But when he thought of doing it with Natalie, it didn’t sound horrible at all. It sounded… fun.
She grabbed his hand. His fingers closed around hers, a little harder than he’d intended, at the jolt of sexual chemistry. There it was, still. Every time they touched, it startled him all over again, making his breath catch and his heart beat faster. And it wasn’t just him; he’d heard her sudden inhale and felt her tightened grip. What would it be like if they ever actually kissed, let alone made love?
“Come on.” Her voice came out breathless, and he saw her throat move as she swallowed. “Let’s get tickets.”
Ransom paid for them both, quickly so it would be done before she could object.
“Hey!” Natalie protested. “You’re bodyguarding me. I should be paying you.”
“You can buy me a tomato.”
The clerk stamped their hands with a plump red tomato ink stamp. “Enjoy Tomato Land!”
“Let’s save the tomato knife for last,” Ransom suggested. “It won’t be much fun walking around in wet clothes.”
“Good idea. It can be the grand finale.”
They stepped into Tomato Land. It was hot and crowded and noisy and dusty, full of tomato-themed carnival games, souvenir booths, and kid-sized inflatable green tomato worms that tipped over and then bounced back up when punched. Kids were everywhere, punching the worms and wearing tomato beanies and sucking tomato-shaped lollipops and running around yelling. As Ransom had predicted, the attendees were mostly families with children aged eleven or younger, plus some bored teenagers who’d clearly been dragged along and some teenagers pretending to be bored while secretly enjoying themselves.
