* * * * *
I went a little over the top, I think, when I called Jesse. I shouted. I threatened to do some pretty terrible things when I saw him again. Genital mutilation of some form or another was certainly mentioned. But I was sincerely worried, too, so I calmed down early on and got to the crucial point:
"You can’t go on Odette."
"Oh? So now I can’t?"
Judging by the way Jesse was talking, he was in a room with other people. Or other people were in his room, more likely, raining powder and hair products down on him. "Isn't it a little late for that now?"
"Jesse—"
"Someone was pretty damn determined that I not cancel, I remember. Do you remember?"
"Shut up and listen to me!" I yelled. "Where are you right now?"
"At pre-pre-show brunch."
"Well get out," I commanded, switching phone ears. I was driving, and fast. "Be creative. Make yourself throw up or something. You’re excellent at that."
"Jordan, what the hell? Just tell me what happened." I heard excited voices emerging in the background.
"A lot happened. You were right."
"Really? So they were there?"
"Yes, and now they’re here and we’re on our way there."
"Well that’s the plan, isn’t it?"
"Jesse," I said sternly. "There was someone else and they’re not very friendly."
"What?" Jesse’s voice was hard to hear. There seemed to be a lot of commotion going on around him. He gasped. "I can’t hear you! She’s here, I have to go!"
"Jesse! Someone is coming after you!"
"Great! Oh, darling, hello!" The phone was obviously nowhere near his face. For a split second, he came back to me. "Just call me when you get to Chicago."
And then he hung up.
I shook the phone, shoved it into my pocket, and swerved into another lane to go faster.
Jackson, Corin, and Ghi sat in nervous silence, looking like scolded giants in the tiny car. I seethed air between my teeth, focusing on the road.
"So," Corin spoke up congenially from the passenger’s seat. "You know Jesse Cannon."
"Yes." I glowered. No one had said anything about destinations yet, but I was taking streets that would lead out of the city. I knew where I was going. If they didn't like it, they could get a goddamn cab.
"So are you his girlfriend or something?" Jackson popped his head between the seats.
"I’m his handler," I corrected. "Put your seat belt on."
"So why didn’t he come here himself?" Corin pressed. "Was he afraid of drawing too much attention?"
Had I been in a better mood, the question would've made me laugh. To Jesse, there wasn't such a thing as too much attention.
"No," I said. "He couldn’t come because he’s on Odette today."
I allowed some time for that to sink in.
"I see. So we’re chasing after him now? Because of his schedule?" Jackson said, understandably annoyed. Like me, he’d been more or less awake for over 36 hours now.
"Not necessarily." I looked over my shoulder to check the next lane before passing over. "You three can do whatever the hell you want. But I'm going to get to him before they do."
That made Ghi pop in between the seats with renewed alarm, his memories of the icy femme fatale still very fresh. "Can’t you try to call him again?"
"Seat belt." I waited for him to disappear before continuing. "And no. There’s no reaching him now. The show taping isn’t until after four, but he won’t have a moment to himself for hours. I’ll just have to go."
Every ounce of me hated this. I was tired, so extremely tired, of rescuing Jesse Cannon. Whether it was from a critic's remarks, or a deranged groupie, or whatever this was. This entire morning, the sheer freakish nature of it all, stood second—if only for a few minutes—to how angry I was.
"She’s absolutely right," said Corin. I liked him immediately. "I say we go."
"Yeah, but what about Khan? What if he shows up?" Jackson started to lean forward between the front seats again, but he caught my glare in the rear mirror and decided to stay put. "How are we gonna find him?"
I was guessing that this 'Khan' person was number five, and I didn’t particularly care. New York to Chicago was a long haul and I wasn’t looking to waste any time.
Corin frowned. He shook his head. "There’s no telling where he is, none at all. At least we know exactly where to find Jesse. Khan will turn up somewhere eventually. I mean, given his circumstances, he won't make it to Liberty without getting arrested anyway."
Ghi muttered something nervously. He was looking rather sick.
The Washington Bridge lanes were coming up fast. I gripped the wheel. "So? Where are you boys headed?"
"I guess Chicago." Jackson scratched a sideburn and shrugged. "That'd be what—twelve, fourteen hours?"
"Ten," I said convincingly, mostly in order to believe it myself, but also to keep from thinking about the more obvious problems at hand. My idiot employer’s life was in danger, and despite what I wanted to believe, I possibly had a rental car full of gods on my hands. That’s not something anyone should ponder in Manhattan morning traffic.
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Vessel, Book I: The Advent Page 30
