Without Foresight

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Without Foresight Page 17

by P. D. Workman


  “You’re sure?”

  Reg had helped get Etienne buckled into the seat without catching his fur in the mechanism. The Uber driver had not taken a good look at him, just glancing in the rear-view mirror as Reg got him settled. She supposed the driver thought he was just a hairy man or someone in an ape costume. Or maybe he picked up Sasquatches regularly.

  “Yes.” Etienne patted at his hair and face. “Do you think I look presentable? I do not want her thinking that I have not taken care of my appearance the first time we meet.”

  “You look good to me. And I’m sure she is used to men of all different sorts. She won’t judge so much from your appearance. The two of you have been writing for how long?”

  Etienne nodded but didn’t answer the question. “She would not be that shallow.”

  “Right? I mean, you’re not going to judge her by her appearance either, are you? She’s been traveling for days; you don’t know what kind of accommodations she might have on the boat. Whether she has her own room or has to share steerage with someone. If she’s being treated as a guest or as… cargo. If she is dirty and matted, you’re not going to assume that she doesn’t care for you, are you?”

  “No. I would not do that.”

  “And you know her. She won’t either.”

  Etienne nodded. “Thank you. That is very wise.”

  “Good. Now just take long, deep breaths. Relax your muscles. Look forward to finally getting to meet your sweetheart face to face instead of getting anxious about what she is going to say. You’ll have a wonderful time together.”

  Reg buckled herself in and confirmed the address at the docks with the Uber driver.

  Etienne was quiet for the drive. Reg could hear him occasionally shifting around or rattling his last letter from Ilka again, making sure that he had every last detail right. It wouldn’t do for him to show up on the wrong date or at the wrong place on the dock. Reg tried to send comforting, calming feelings Etienne’s way. She wanted things to go as smoothly as possible for him. She didn’t have anything invested in their relationship, but she wanted them to like each other and for Etienne to be happy. Etienne was a nice guy and he had helped her out when she had been in a very bad place. He deserved his happiness in the cabin in the Everglades. Raising Sasquatch pups whose coats turned white in the winter.

  They arrived well before the time specified in the letter, but Reg still looked around carefully to see if they were the only ones there waiting for the boat. She didn’t see anyone else who seemed to be looking for it. And it hadn’t arrived early. There was no disappointed female Bigfoot standing around waiting for them.

  Etienne blew his breath out in relief. He looked around for a place to sit down, but rested on the bench for only a moment before getting up to pace back and forth, working off his restless energy.

  Reg sat down with her phone and pulled up her email to see if there were anything she should be responding to. She was terrible at keeping up with her email, which was funny when she considered how much time she spent with the phone in her hand, looking for a way to entertain herself. But the tiny letters in the emails were difficult to read and she avoided them when she could. She needed to keep track of whether anyone registered for a psychic session through email. Sarah wasn’t going to do that. And if people waited too long for a confirmation email, they would just go on to the next person on their lists. They wouldn’t continue to wait for Reg, holding out for her return reply.

  “I think that is it,” Etienne said in a hushed voice.

  Reg looked up from her phone and followed Etienne’s gaze. There was a boat on the horizon. Not a little sailboat, but a cargo ship. Reg stood and walked up beside Etienne. The breeze was blowing the salty smell of the ocean into her face, sharpening her sense of smell. Reg tried to keep from reacting to it. She was just there with a friend, not to hunt. And the slightly musky, clean-fur smell of Etienne didn’t attract her like that of Corvin or Davyn.

  She squinted at the boat in the distance. “That could be it.”

  “The name matches the letter,” Etienne told her, indicating the paper in his hands.

  “You can read a name on that? I can barely see the boat!”

  He looked at her, raising his brows. “Really? Humans do have weak eyes.”

  “Well… yeah, if you can see the writing on a boat when I can barely see what kind of craft it is!”

  They both stood in anxious silence as they watched its sedate approach.

  “Regina? What are you doing here?”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Reg turned around at the familiar voice. She glanced at Etienne anxiously, and then at the man who had addressed her. Corvin Hunter, of course. It figured that he would be there when she didn’t want to be seen. Or when she didn’t want her companion to be seen. She broke away from Etienne and walked toward Corvin, knowing that Etienne would stay glued in place where he was until the boat docked.

  “Corvin.”

  He smiled, his intense eyes meeting hers, a thrill going through her just at his presence. She reminded herself that it was just a physical reaction to his charms. A biological function. It didn’t mean anything. She tried to stay far enough away from him that she wouldn’t catch his scent.

  “What’s going on?” Corvin looked at Etienne’s back. “Who is with you?”

  “A friend. Look, this is kind of private. I’ll call you later and we can chat, okay?” She made a shooing motion to make him step back.

  “Private?” It didn’t seem to dissuade him, but to encourage his inquiry more. “I didn’t imagine you would be out and about in public today, after seeing your picture in the newspaper.”

  “Yeah.” Reg sighed. “But what am I going to do? I can’t go underground every time someone thinks I had something to do with a crime. I didn’t do anything, and sooner or later, they will figure that out.”

  She could feel Corvin probing at the edges of her mind, wondering how much of what she said was really how she felt. Reg tried to resist him, but the telepathic pathways between the two of them were too well-developed for her to keep him completely out.

  “What’s going on? Something has happened.”

  “I don’t know. Stuff happens. We’ll just let it all get sorted out. Everyone I talk to says it is nothing to be worried about. I just need to settle down and relax, and everything else will be fine.”

  “I haven’t known you to be particularly predisposed to hysteria. If something is wrong, why don’t you tell me about it?”

  “Nothing is wrong. Now, like I said, this is a private thing,” Reg motioned to Etienne. “If you could just go on your way, you and I can discuss my life later.”

  “What kind of private thing?” Corvin was looking curiously at Etienne’s back.

  “A family thing. He’s just meeting someone off the boat.”

  Corvin gazed out to sea. “It’s a cargo boat, not a passenger ship. I don’t think that’s the one his family member is going to be on.”

  “It could be. Sometimes… people arrive in this country in unconventional ways.”

  “If you’re caught up in some kind of human smuggling, you could end up in considerable trouble.”

  “I’m not. It’s nothing like that.”

  “Is that what this dead guy in the paper was all about? Human trafficking?”

  “No. That was nothing to do with this. That was just… I don’t know. I just happened to be there. It wasn’t to do with Etienne or anyone else here in Black Sands.”

  “It was something to do with someone here in Black Sands,” Corvin pointed out.

  “Fine. Yes. With someone in Black Sands. But not me. I’m just helping out a friend. That body had nothing to do with it.”

  “It could be that you just don’t know what the connection is.”

  Reg gave him her best glare.

  Corvin backed down, holding up his hands and taking a step back. “Okay, okay.”

  He took another step back, trying to get a good angle on
Etienne to see who he was. The wind from the sea shifted, and Etienne’s cloak billowed out, revealing more of Etienne’s body type and shape. Corvin’s eyes popped.

  “Is he a…? No, he couldn’t be. Here? On the dock?”

  “Just don’t make a big deal, okay? He came here to meet someone. He doesn’t want strangers hanging around while they meet.”

  “Who is he meeting?”

  “Corvin, can you just go home? Or go do whatever you came here for? I need to be here to support a friend. It isn’t any of your business and it isn’t anything illegal.” Though, of course, Reg had no idea if that were true. She didn’t know whether Ilka was a stowaway, a paying passenger, or in a shipping container. But she didn’t want Corvin there when Ilka got off.

  Corvin hesitated. “I’d like to talk to you. I think there’s something going on, and maybe we could talk, get it sorted out.” He gazed into her eyes, and she could feel him again probing into her mind, trying to make sense of things. “Something just feels… off. Are you okay?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. With everyone else who is already involved, I don’t need to have someone else in on it.”

  “Who else is involved?” he prompted.

  “No one. The police are on my case. I asked Sarah for some help. Other people are on the fringes… I’d rather not have to share it with anyone else.”

  “You know I am discreet. And I’ve been able to help you other times.”

  “This is different. Just go take care of whatever you are here for.”

  He sighed, but after a moment, he moved away from her. “Call me. Later, when you can talk.”

  Reg rolled her eyes and shook her head at his persistence. It was hard to know how to feel about his offer to help. There was always a danger in dealing with Corvin about anything. And too often, his offers to help came with strings attached. He had been useful in the past, it was true, and they had helped each other through difficult situations. But what she had said was true too; she didn’t need the whole world knowing about her problems and felt like the story was already getting away from her. Jessup and Sarah both knew about her memory blanks. Corvin already knew something about her sporadic loss of powers, though of course she hadn’t told him that it had happened again. Several of them knew about her strange new obsession with snakes.

  When she’d had dreams about spiders, there had been a reason for it. They had represented the eight ghosts that were attached to a client. So did the snakes represent something? Or were they literal? If a snake had bitten the troll, and he was known to be a snake handler, then they were just something conjured up by her overactive imagination.

  Reg rubbed the space between her eyebrows. She was thinking too hard, making herself tense and headachy. She needed to just relax and be there for Etienne. This was his moment.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The boat was getting closer. Reg still couldn’t see the writing on it as Etienne could, but it did appear to be coming directly toward them. Reg tried to quiet her mind as it approached. She sent calming waves of thought toward Etienne. He looked over his shoulder at her but did not motion her to stand with him. So Reg stayed back where she was. She tried to imagine what it would be like to meet her mate for the first time like this. They had been writing, they thought they were compatible, and Etienne fully expected to go on and marry Ilka, provided both of their families agreed.

  Maybe part of the reason she couldn’t fathom what that would be like was that she didn’t have any family, let alone any traditions that would require them to be involved in her life in that way.

  She could feel Etienne’s excitement and anxiety as the boat drew close. She walked up and stood next to him. The boat was finally close enough for Reg to confirm that the name on the prow matched the name in Etienne’s letter. There were shouts back and forth between the crew as the boat drew up to the dock. Lots of activity before it actually bumped up against the edge and was secured. Etienne practically vibrated next to her. He pulled his cloak around him so that his nature would not be as obvious to the crew of the boat. He watched the deck for any sign of Ilka.

  They put down a gangplank and started unloading crates and pallets. Etienne and Reg moved to the side to give them space, watching anxiously for the passenger.

  As the crew unloaded the cargo, a figure made its way across the deck. Like Etienne, she was wrapped in a cloak, but it was apparent even from the dock that she was very tall and broad. Etienne took a sharp intake of breath. Reg felt herself holding her breath as well, even though she didn’t have anything at risk.

  The crew pretended not to notice the tall figure, but it was obvious from the drop-off in their conversation and sideways glances that they were perfectly aware of her. They kept working at unloading the cargo. Ilka made her way behind one of them down the gangplank. Her hooded face was turned toward Etienne. When she reached them, she put out both hands to take his.

  Her hands and wrists were covered with golden brown fur. Her hands were similar in size to Etienne’s, the fingers only slightly slimmer. Their heights were almost exactly the same. Ilka leaned forward so that they got a better look at her face, though she kept the hood up to hide it from the workers. It was almost as hairy as Etienne’s, though trimmed shorter, closer to her face. But she had not attempted to shave it off. It was fine, lighter in color than Etienne’s red-brown, almost translucent around her eyes.

  “Etienne,” she whispered. Reg could detect the Russian accent in even just that one word. “I am Ilka. I am here.”

  Etienne squeezed her hands and said something to her that Reg could not understand. She wondered if she should walk away and let them talk to each other in private. She looked at Etienne and took a little step to the side. Etienne shook his head. “You will tell my brother we were not alone.”

  “I can still do that and give you a little room.”

  “I do not care,” Ilka declared, “I do not need anyone’s approval to choose a mate. I don’t care about traditions. I am here,” she pointed out, “I do not wait for anyone’s permission.”

  “I know,” Etienne agreed, sounding a little chagrined. “You are very… independent.”

  “If my father does not like the match, too bad. He is not here. What is he going to do about it? And your brothers… they have not been a part of your life for many years. So why does it matter what they say? You and I know each other. We know it is a good match. We don’t need anyone to tell us that.”

  Etienne nodded. He continued to hold her hands. “You are even more beautiful than your picture, ma chéri.”

  Ilka turned her face to the side demurely. If she were blushing, Reg could not see it through the fur.

  “Do you have luggage to get off of the boat?” Reg asked, thinking that if they didn’t need to wait, they could continue the conversation in the van, where both Bigfoots could lower their hoods and be more free with each other.

  Ilka looked back toward the boat. “A trunk,” she agreed.

  On cue, a crew member wheeled a very large trunk toward them. Reg eyed it, wondering if it were actually going to fit in the van. She motioned the crewman toward the vehicle, and he nodded. When he got to the van, the Uber driver jumped out and started reconfiguring the seats and storage area once more, talking rapidly to the crewman, who gave no indication that he understood English.

  Once he had the cargo area configured the way he wanted it, the two men tipped the trunk down flat and attempted to lift it into the van. Their muscles strained as they tried to get it up off the ground. Etienne and Ilka stepped forward to help. Ilka swept the two men aside with one swipe of her arm, picked up the trunk, and slid it into the van. The Uber driver stared with his mouth hanging open. The crewman from the boat pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his sweaty face. He shrugged at the driver and headed back toward the boat with his wheeled cart.

  The two Sasquatches got into the van and took their seats. Reg returned to her seat in the front. The Uber driver looke
d at her and looked like he had something to say. He made a couple of starting noises, but couldn’t seem to get the words out.

  “Did you have a hotel booked?” Reg asked Ilka. “I don’t know what arrangements you have or haven’t made.”

  Ilka looked at Etienne to see what he would offer. Since he was staying with Reg and already knew that she didn’t have space for one Sasquatch, let alone two, he didn’t offer to take her in.

  “There are some acceptable hotels,” he said, “if you don’t have someone to stay with already.”

  “I guess so. I was hoping… we could go to your place.”

  Etienne stammered for the first time since Reg had met him. “Uh, m-my place is quite a distance away. You have probably had enough of travel today. We can get you settled in a local hotel and then call our families to see if we can come to an agreement.”

  Ilka made a growling sound deep in her throat. “That could take months. I am not willing to wait until they negotiate an agreement.”

  “We can at least give them a chance, see if they can come to a landing in the next day or two. Things will go much more smoothly if they think it was their idea.”

  Ilka cocked her head slightly as she considered this, then she nodded. “I suppose they will be easier to deal with if they can. But I am not going to wait more than a few days. If they will not talk, we can go to your house and wait until they break down.”

  Etienne rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. Ilka was obviously much more progressive than he was, and the suggestion that she could just move in with him without their family’s approving the match obviously made him uncomfortable. Reg suspected that the arrangement had never been discussed in their letters.

  “Do you have a preference for a chain?” Reg asked. She had no idea if Ilka or Etienne would be familiar with any of the American hotel chains. “Holiday Inn? Motel 6?”

  “Whatever you think is appropriate,” Etienne said with a shrug.

 

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