by Mia Marshall
“What about school?” I asked.
Mac shook his head. “Not for the last two days.”
“Carmen hasn’t heard from her daughter in two days, and she’s just now getting worried?” I tried to hide my judgment of such a relaxed parenting style and failed. I was sure my overprotective mother would appreciate the irony.
“She texted, but we have no way of knowing who actually sent those.”
“Is Carmen here?” We’d lingered long enough at the diner she could have easily beaten us home, particularly if she answered her phone. I couldn’t believe we’d been Mac’s or Will’s first call.
“She’s tracking.” Will didn’t sound like he expected her to have much luck.
“Trail stops at the river?” It was an easy guess. I doubted the shifters would have requested outside involvement if it weren’t absolutely necessary. I thought of the other person who’d been with James at the lake. All signs pointed to it being Pamela. “I think I can say, with near certainty, that Pamela was running away with James two nights ago. Hell, she’s probably with him now. You’re not looking for two kidnapped kids. You’re looking for two shifters who ran off together and knew how to lay false trails and cover their own tracks. Any chance the bears and cats went all Montague and Capulet on them?” We already knew Carmen wasn’t a fan of the relationship, and I took Will’s stony expression as confirmation he felt the same. “They’re holed up together somewhere, trust me.”
I felt pretty proud of myself. Case solved. Okay, solved-ish, considering we didn’t know where they actually were. Even so, I’d figured it out. For a moment, I allowed myself to entertain the fantasy that I might be able to keep this job for longer than a week.
“Are you done?” Will’s words were even, but I still sensed waves of anger rolling off him. I took one surreptitious step back, remembering what happened to Mac the one time he nearly lost control. It wasn’t necessary. Will kept himself tightly contained, and I didn’t see even a single claw extend or an unwanted strand of hair grow on his face. “See if the other girl knows anything,” he told Mac, who nodded and turned toward the front door. Will stared at me for one long second, then nodded, appearing to come to a decision. “Follow me.”
Sera indicated she’d go with Mac, and I trailed after his uncle. He led me to the backyard, stepping carefully on the paving stones to avoid disrupting the soil. He stopped and pointed.
I followed his finger to several small dark spots. It took a moment for my brain to acknowledge what my eyes were seeing. I quickly stepped back, disregarding the evidence I might be trampling in my haste to get away from the blood congealing on the back patio. I wasn’t squeamish, not the way Vivian was. It wasn’t the blood itself that bothered me, but what it signified.
“It’s Pamela’s?” I asked from several feet away. Their noses could tell not only whose it was but when it had been spilled.
Will nodded. “It’s been here about two hours. She must have returned home after her mother left for the gym and while Dana was at school.” His hand clenched into a fist, and he closed his eyes. I suspected he was willing something to appear that he could pummel into a heap of dust. I was feeling much the same urge, and I didn’t have the muscles to do a fraction of the damage he could.
I quickly imagined several scenarios. In the first one, Pamela had been with James, but they separated for some reason. When she returned home, someone grabbed her. Maybe it was the same person who grabbed James, but the smart money, the money that knew how common domestic violence was, even among teenagers, would say she’d gotten away from an abusive boyfriend, only to have James return for her. I looked nervously at Will. I doubted he’d be willing to entertain that theory.
The other choice made no sense. Someone who lived in this house had been in the lake, and if it wasn’t Pamela, it looked like Mama Cat had a lot of questions to answer. Again, I hesitated to tell Will, fearing the bear’s version of a fair trial involved several blows to the head and bellowed demands to know where his son was. Nothing in that scenario explained why Pamela was now missing, either.
For now, it seemed like those with the least emotional investment should be handling this. How I’d become the calmest person in the room was a question for the ages, but it was the current reality.
“We’ll get her back, Will. Her and James both.” The words should have been empty. I had no idea how to find two teenagers, and no real investigative experience to rely on. But I spoke them with utter certainty. I’d seen enough bad stuff lately, seen too many innocent people lose their lives. I wasn’t going to sit by and let something else happen if I could do anything to stop it—and if James turned out to be one of the bad guys, I’d figure that out, too.
I swallowed my pride, my bravado, and my quick retorts, and looked Will directly in the eye. “How can I help?”
He met my gaze, seeming to accept my genuine offer with grace. A reluctant grace, but grace nonetheless. “My nephew will take you to the river. Maybe you’ll find something. God knows any information would be a help.”
I left Will staring at the blood, looking for answers where none existed.
I found Mac in Carmen’s immaculate living room, perched on a luxurious brown leather sofa. He was whispering quiet words to a miserable Dana, trying to offer comfort she wasn’t ready to accept.
Sera watched impassively, deep in her own thoughts. I imagined she was constructing scenarios similar to those I’d already worked up, and I could only hope she was finding more answers.
Mac looked completely out of place in that room, large and rough. His blue jeans were worn and his flannel shirt faded, and his hands, resting lightly on his muscled thighs, were strong and callused.
Yet, somehow, he made his surroundings look tasteless, wan and overdone and false when placed against the simple, warm life that pulsed from him. I wanted to walk to him and place my hands on his tense shoulders, but I had no idea if he would welcome my touch. Instead, I opted for a quiet, “Hey.”
He already knew I was there, of course. But he waited until I spoke, and turned around slowly. “Will showed you?” I nodded. There was nothing else to say. “Let’s go to the water, then.” He stood and walked slowly past me.
Mac drove us to the river, passing trees slowly regaining their leaves after the harsh winter. Snowplants and delphinium burst through the ground, their nubs of green and red and purple only hinting at the riot of color that would decorate the land in another month or two. It seemed ludicrous, such beauty and rebirth in the face of our fear and worry and, though no one wanted to say it aloud, the all too real possibility of the shifters’ deaths.
We were silent when we reached the river, the other two waiting for me to speak to the water. I only hoped it had answers. I sat on the shore and dipped my hands in the chilly water. Even in the shallows, it held none of the warmth of the springtime sun, the runoff from the mountain snow moving too quickly downstream to bother taking the time to heat itself.
It didn’t matter. My fire heritage might mean I liked to bundle up in sweaters and scarves, but water could dip near freezing and make no difference to me. It didn’t feel cold. It felt like part of me.
Unfortunately, that’s all I felt. Unlike the static lake, the river had already changed many times since Pamela had gone missing, and I felt no hint of life beyond the usual fish and plants that populated the water. There was something warm-blooded, too. A beaver, maybe. As I watched, I thought I saw a few brown heads break through the water, but they disappeared so quickly I wondered if I’d imagined it.
Seeing nothing else, I shook my head at Mac and Sera. The river was a dead end.
Mac looked like he’d been expecting that news. He phoned his uncle and relayed my findings, then returned us to Carmen’s house. In our absence, someone had cleaned up the blood. Once everyone who needed to had caught the trail, I supposed there was no need to keep it. It wasn’t like anyone would be calling the local forensics team to come out and provide an analysis. The house w
as eerily quiet, and it appeared our welcome was at an end.
Lacking any better options, it was time to return home. Mac and Sera moved to the driver’s side of their respective cars, leaving me to choose my ride back. I took several steps toward the Mustang, certain that, based on his recent behavior, Mac had no great desire for my company.
A second later, I decided I didn’t really care. I deliberately turned around, just catching Sera’s amused expression in my peripheral vision. I pulled myself into the passenger seat of the Bronco and smiled at Mac. “I’m riding with you,” I said unnecessarily.
He held my gaze for a long moment, his brown eyes filled with complicated emotions I could barely begin to understand, then he simply nodded and turned the key.
The ride home was quiet. I’d noticed that, while Mac and Simon never protested when Sera or I played music, they never put it on themselves. The human part of them might like it, but it seemed the animal side avoided anything that interfered with their senses. And so the cab was filled with a heavy silence, only the sound of the engine and the wind rushing past the windows providing any accompaniment to the thoughts ricocheting around my brain.
I was desperately aware of his proximity, that warm body less than a foot from mine. It would be so easy to simply pick up my hand and lay it on his thigh, or to scoot across the bench seat and curl into him, resting my head in that perfect hollow between his shoulder and chest. I felt my hand lift, seemingly of its own volition, wanting to act on that impulse before my conscious mind could reason with it.
I’d thought we had something. Or, at least, I’d thought we could have something.
We were nearly to the cabin. I finally had him alone, and I was about to lose my only chance to talk to him. Soon, the others would be around, and he’d disappear back into his Airstream trailer, and I’d be fighting to get a single moment alone with him. This was it.
“So... we kissed.” Well, that was one way to start the conversation.
His entire body stilled for a moment, then his eyes slid slowly toward me. It only lasted a second, and then he returned them to the road, but it was enough to feel scorched from head to toe.
“I remember,” he said simply. He face was impassive, giving nothing away.
“Okay, then. Just wanted to be sure I hadn’t imagined it.” I paused, giving him the chance to respond. He said nothing. I turned my face to the window, wondering if he’d notice if I flung the door open and made my escape. Right now, a bit of road burn seemed preferable to sitting in the Bronco another minute, wanting to climb into the lap of a man who clearly didn’t want me there.
The quiet stretched between us again, and somehow my mouth was breaking that silence before my brain had a chance to approve its words. “So, what? It was just a thing? It didn’t mean anything? Or is this because of the whole doomed-to-be-crazy thing?” Hey, I might need to work on my eloquence, but at least I got to the point.
He gripped the steering wheel in a perfect ten-two position and continued to watch the road. Just when I thought he wasn’t going to respond, he quietly said, “It meant something.”
My heart stuttered and seemed to stop altogether, then joyously launched into double time. Part of me wanted to leave it there, knowing that whatever may have happened or might happen in the future, we’d shared one kiss that meant something. It almost felt like enough.
Unfortunately, Earth’s insistence on continuing to spin through space meant few things ever stopped exactly where you wanted them to. Though he didn’t release his grip on the wheel or lift his eyes from the road, Mac wasn’t done speaking.
“I remember kissing you. I remember thinking I was holding someone remarkable in my arms, and being fairly certain I didn’t want to let her go. I remember that.”
I was about to find out how long an elemental could live without oxygen. His words stole my breath, and I could do nothing but stare at him, my eyes roaming over his profile. His straight nose and high, broad cheekbones. His thick brown hair, a little too long. His jawline, locked in place. It was a face I found beautiful, but it wasn’t a relaxed, romantic face. The words might sound like a declaration, but the face was locked and closed.
Our time was up. He turned right, pulling into the long road that led to the cabin. I desperately racked my brain, looking for the words I needed to say to make him turn to me with soft eyes that matched his words. For once, I was speechless. Declarations of my own swam just below the surface, vague words and promises I’d never spoken before and didn’t know how to articulate. I wasn’t even sure what they meant. I only knew I wasn’t ready for this ride to be over.
He drew to a stop in the driveway, next to the beat-up Chevy compact I’d driven down from Oregon and ignored ever since. Sera wasn’t back yet, but the living room was lit. Real life waited for us, just a few feet away. Mac turned the engine off and unbuckled his seat belt, turning to face me.
“I also remember that you left that night. You took off without a word to anyone, and headed straight into a dangerous situation you didn’t need to be in. You didn’t trust me to help you, and you definitely didn’t trust me to believe in you, though I would have done both. I know you’re still coming back to the world after a long time away, and I know you have a lot to deal with. This isn’t about the half-fire thing. I can deal with that, but I can’t deal with you running away, not again. Honestly, I’m not sure you’re ready to be kissing anyone, not yet.”
I opened my mouth once, twice, looking for a rebuttal that didn’t exist. Mac tended to be the strong, silent type until he had something to say, and it appeared he currently had a lot to say—and all of it was true. I was the one who’d acted like the kiss meant nothing. I was the one who’d left. “But I came back.” I spoke in a whisper, my throat closing around the words.
He reached out one hand to cup my cheek. The calluses I’d noticed earlier scraped lightly against my skin, and I welcomed the rough touch. Without even thinking, I leaned into his hand. I pressed against his warm skin and let him hold me, if only in that small way. I watched for the moment those chocolate brown eyes softened. It didn’t take long. He seemed content to simply sit like that, and I began to think he had nothing else to say. Finally, he answered. “I guess that’s a start.”
I looked at him, at that broad, tanned face that was quickly becoming one of my favorite sights in the world, and began to prepare long, reasoned arguments why waiting was entirely unnecessary. Before I had a chance to deliver any of them, his eyes moved to the rearview mirror. He instantly removed his hand from my cheek, his demeanor becoming impersonal and almost business-like. “Your friends are here.” A moment later, he was outside the car and moving toward his trailer, leaving me alone to deal with the black sedan easing its way down the driveway.
CHAPTER 7
Sera wasn’t far behind the agents, having made a quick stop for some food and beer. We’d all been drinking a lot less since Brian revealed his true self, somehow associating cocktails and late nights with his boozehound ways.
Even more than the rest, I avoided crossing the line from relaxed into tipsy. We still didn’t know what had pushed Brian from fun-loving college student into murder-loving psychopath, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to walk a different path than he had whenever possible. Even so, with the sun beginning to show its face on a regular basis, many days found us lounging on the back deck, bottles of beer firmly in hand. After all, if I gave up alcohol altogether, I was pretty sure that meant the terrorists had won.
It was almost warm enough to be outside, and we had sufficient deck chairs for everyone to sit. However, doing so would allow Carmichael to keep his dignity, so Sera insisted we all talk in the living room. He scanned the floor for the most likely chair in a pile of floor pillows. I cheerfully patted a lumpy one next to me that featured some form of mutant ninja turtle. He gingerly lowered himself to the floor, carefully adjusting his suit and looking like he wanted to make an emergency call to his dry cleaner.
Sera walked
into the room, cold six-pack in hand. “Beer, Scully?” she asked.
Carmichael shook his head. “We’re working.”
Johnson was already reclining against the wall, a panel of upside down teddy bears surrounding his relaxed face. “I’ll take one,” he said, holding out a hand.
“Johnson! It’s like I don’t even know you,” I said, reaching for my own bottle. He’d come a long way since we’d met. A few months ago, he’d been a serious, uptight agent intent on imprisoning me for several human lifetimes. I was sure he could still summon that agent at a moment’s notice, but at some point he’d let us see the man underneath, and I’d discovered I was quite fond of the Johnson that didn’t want to lock me up and throw the key deep into the fires of Mordor.
“Off the books means off the clock, right?” He grinned and took a long swig from the bottle.
Sera nodded. “Exactly. Though I should warn you, not everyone appreciates our flawless logic.”
Johnson didn’t bother to respond. He was too busy watching Vivian play with earth. We still had plastic bins full of soil scattered throughout the living room, a remnant of our old security system. Vivian had spent the last few weeks filling them with her favorite plants, but they still provided a bit of defense for our resident earth. We weren’t ready to disarm the teddy bear fortress yet, but we’d made it prettier.
Vivian closed her eyes and slowly fed the earth’s nutrients into the latest seedlings. As we watched, the plants sprouted a full half inch. She was a weak elemental, but that didn’t stop Johnson from watching her with an expression of awe in his eyes.
Fortunately, she was also a patient elemental. “Place your hand on the surface,” she told him. He quickly obeyed. “What do you feel?”
His face wrinkled in concentration. “Nothing.”
She picked up his hand and moved it to another section of soil. “Try here.” Once again, his face tensed. “Not like that. Breathe. You can’t force something to happen. Just root yourself to the earth, become part of it.”
