“Indulge me, Doc.”
*****
Sheridan stepped outside the office and pulled the door shut. He was just turning when he caught the scent of something. Something familiar. Something…large. He slowly lowered himself and wafted the air closer to his face. He inhaled deeply and the scent hit him hard. Apollo.
Sheridan’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the warehouse. He inhaled deeply and followed the scent to the edge of the office. It lingered just outside one of the frosted windows and he felt his guts twist on him. Apollo had been spying on him. But when?
He thought back to his phone call to Mr. Simmons. He hadn’t given anything away then. He thought back through his other actions through the evening. Dammit. The conversation with Big.
Sheridan ground his teeth and gazed out through the warehouse. If the man was lying in wait for him, he couldn’t sense him. He took a tentative step away from the office and none of the hair on the back of his neck rose. Somehow, he doubted the large man was waiting in the rafters with a sniper rifle.
Sheridan exhaled slowly and felt the tension leave his shoulders. If Apollo intended to confront him, he didn’t plan to do it tonight. That gave him until morning to find a way to either coerce him back to his side or figure out a way to get rid of him.
*****
Little John paced the lounge, his hands instinctively clenching and unclenching. Spalding had tried every trick he could think of to get him to relax, but the man couldn’t take it any longer. “I have to know what’s going on.”
“You just have to give them time.” Spalding spun and held a finger up. “Hey, how about we go to the gym and you can burn off some of this nervous energy on the weights?”
Sullivan paused and stared at the smaller man. “This isn’t just nervous energy. This is me…worrying about my sister.”
Spalding smirked at him. “The same sister you swore to put a bullet in the next time you saw her?” He regretted the words as soon as they escaped his mouth. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out the way I meant.”
“That was a cheap shot.”
“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded, I promise.” Spalding deflated and shrugged. “Okay, how about we work our way down the interrogation room, and I’ll see what I can find out.”
That offer caught John’s attention. “You would do that?”
“Of course.” Spalding waved him on. “Let’s go see what we can see.”
The two worked their way down a flight of stairs and slowly approached the interrogation room. “You hang back, and I’ll see what I can see.” Spalding eased up on the room and stole a quick peek through the door glass. He eased back up and stared inside the room. Turning to Little John he asked, “You sure this is the room they had her in?”
John quickly closed the gap. “Of course I’m sure.” He stared through the glass and uttered a curse under his breath. “Where could they have taken her?”
“No idea, but we can find out.” Spalding turned and headed back down the hallway. He hit the stairwell and took the stairs two at a time. He entered the overlook heading to Colonel Mitchell’s office. “I’ll ask the boss, but you need to stay back. Otherwise, he might not be so forthcoming in…”
“In what?” Mitchell asked.
Spalding spun and blanched. “Colonel! How you doing, sir?”
“Spill it, Spalding. What are you up to?”
“We, uh…were wondering where Sully’s sister might have ended up?”
Mitchell glanced past Spalding to Little John. The man appeared to be a nervous wreck. “She’s with Phoenix.” Mitchell turned and entered his office.
“And where would that be, sir?” Spalding inquired.
“How the hell should I know? He just said that the Wyldwood said that little vamp was supposed to be on his new team and…” Mitchell threw his hands up in surrender. “Jesus, last I heard somebody had put me in charge of this Mickey Mouse outfit, but no…” He shut the door behind him, effectively ending the conversation.
Spalding turned to Little John. “Well, there you have it. Apparently Jack has her. Somewhere.” Spalding rubbed at his chin in thought. “I wonder why the Wyldwood would say that Brooke is supposed to work for Jack?”
“Would you please explain to me what in the hell is going on?” Little John’s worry was painted so deeply that Spalding thought the man would pop.
“Yeah, I’ll try, but it won’t be easy.” He motioned the man to follow him. “It’s sort of a long story, so try to keep up.”
“Give me the Reader’s Digest version.”
“I intend to, but even that can get complicated.” Spalding went to the rail and leaned on it, looking out over the training area. “It all started when…”
13
Mark sat in silence while his wife went to grab a quick bite from the cafeteria. She promised to bring him something more substantial than the broth and gelatin he had been served. Mark would stand and peel the gauze back and stare in the mirror. Each time it seemed that the pink scars had healed that much more and he would shudder, cover the wounds again and sit back down.
Out of pure boredom, he picked up the broth and sniffed it. He could nearly smell the salt in the clear liquid, and it made his mouth water. He lifted the bowl to his mouth and took a sip. He didn’t realize how hungry he truly was until he pulled the bowl back and saw that it was empty. The gelatin lasted about two seconds. He sucked down the juice and made quick action of the milk as well. He sat on the small bed and could feel his stomach rumble for something more substantive. Something with meat. Something rare. Something bloody.
He shook his head and tried to clear it of the thoughts he was having, but images of large steaks sizzling on a charcoal grill, juices dripping and popping on the coals danced in his mind. If he closed his eyes, he could almost smell the roasted flesh. His stomach protested again and almost cramped with want. He grabbed the plastic cup the juice came in and filled it from the ice water pitcher, downing the liquid to try to fill the emptiness inside. He knew it wouldn’t work but he had to try.
Sitting back on the bed a smell rose to meet his nose, and it wasn’t pleasant. He sniffed the air again then stood, inhaling deeply. What the hell is that funk?
He stepped from the bed and sniffed at the air. Whatever it was it seemed elusive. As he approached the bed again, the smell intensified. He bent low and sniffed the sheets, withdrawing in disgust. “Oh, my God.” He grabbed the sheets and pulled them from the small bed, wadding them into a ball and tossing them toward the door. The mixture of sweat, betadine and fear had saturated the sheets. The odor was enough to turn his stomach.
The door opened and Tracy stood in shock at the state of the room. “What the hell, Tufo?”
“They stunk.”
“Well, no duh. You soaked them with sweat and…oh, my God.” She placed the tray she was carrying on the side table and quickly closed the small gap between them. She reached up and pulled the gauze from his chest. “Your wounds.”
He quickly grabbed at the gauze and pulled it back into place. “I know.” He turned from her and grabbed the tray from the table.
“Mark? This isn’t right.”
“You think I don’t know that? What can I do about it? Keep opening up the wounds so they take longer to heal?” He lifted the plastic lid covering the plate and his mouth watered at the Salisbury steak smothered in brown gravy. “I wish you had brought about seven of these. I’m famished.”
“What? Good heavens there’s no way you could eat…” She paused in mid-sentence as he cut the steak in half and shoved one piece in his mouth, brown gravy running from the corners of his mouth. “You’re going to make me sick if you keep that up.”
“I told you, I’m starving.” His words sounded muffled as he spoke through the mouthful of food. He scooped up a triple fingerful of mashed potatoes and shoved them into his mouth.
“Oh, for the love of…use a spoon!”
He turned and gave her a sheepish stare. “Tho
rry.”
“I can get you more. You don’t have to eat it all in two bites.” She moved past him and opened the door. “I can’t guarantee you seven, but I’ll get you as many as they’ll let me leave with.”
He gave her a smile, potatoes and gravy dripping from the sides of his mouth. “Thank you.”
“Just, please, use the utensils I brought you. And try not to eat the dishes until I get back.”
He plopped down on the vinyl covered mattress and gave her a wan smile. “I’ll try.”
She paused and gave him one last look before heading back to the cafeteria. Had he gotten…larger?
*****
“There’s supposed to be one more coming our way, but for now, we might as well get everybody situated and once all the dust is settled, we’ll get started with your training.” Jack addressed the group of young warriors surrounding him, his eyes assessing each of them. He had to admit, when he first went into battle with the original three, he had no idea that they were so young. He had his doubts about the gnome, but that was quickly quelled once the fighting started. But now that he knew that they were barely more than kids? “I know that for most of you, you’ve already been trained in one form of combat or another. I intend to assess your abilities and round out your training.”
Azrael raised a hand slightly. “Who else are we expecting?”
Jack shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I suppose when the Wyldwood gets around to letting us know…” he cast an accusing glance at Kalen. “I’ll be the second to know.”
Kalen averted his eyes. He knew that Chief Jack held it against him that the Wyldwood chose to speak to him over his leader, but he couldn’t help it. It was simply easier for her to contact and speak with Kalen. The same stone in Kalen’s wristband that allowed him to open the gateway to the Anywhere also gave him a direct link to the Wyldwood. She could contact him at will, and nobody else would know. She could, in effect, spy on their every action if she chose. Kalen sighed as he considered the responsibilities of being the Gatekeeper.
“How soon before we can start our training?” Brooke’s face may have appeared passive, but her voice sounded more than anxious.
“We have a few things to take care of first.” Jack tapped his watch. “First things first, the full moon is right around the corner and unfortunately, I’ll be out of commission during that time.”
Gnat stepped forward and leaned on his hammer. “What are we supposed to do during the times that you aren’t available?”
Jack shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. I really should name a Second. Somebody who is responsible for the group, a leader amongst the team, but right now I just don’t know who to assign that to.”
Azrael looked amongst the group present and reached out, pushing Kalen forward. “Him.” Kalen looked back at Azrael in shock, his eyes darting between the large gargoyle and Jack.
Jack raised a brow, his eyes narrowing. “Why would you say that?”
“The Wyldwood. You claim she speaks to him, and it is because of her that we have all been called together, yes?”
“Well…” Jack trailed off; unsure that was enough to make Kalen the leader amongst the group.
“Chief Jack, I understand you do not want to trust me to assist you with leading our group.” Kalen lowered his eyes to the floor.
Jack cleared his throat, buying time to choose his words. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Kalen. It’s just…you’re usually so quiet and withdrawn. Most leaders are more…I dunno. Out there.”
Brooke snorted and shook her head. “What a bunch. One who can lead, another who should and doesn’t think he can.”
“I can lead.” Kalen corrected. “I just don’t want Chief Jack to feel compelled to do anything he isn’t comfortable with.”
“Whatever.” She turned and hopped onto a table, her long leather coat feathering out around her. “I say let the gargoyle do it. He’s big enough to keep everybody in line. Sugar cookie doesn’t have what it takes anyway.”
Kalen ground his teeth and Azrael gave her a sideways stare. “Sugar cookie?”
“She thinks I smell like cookies. It is because she is a vampire and I am Elf. That is all.” Kalen refused to make eye contact with either as he spoke. He stepped forward and squared his shoulders. “Chief Jack, if you will have me as your Second, I will take the mantle and wear it proudly. I will not fail you.”
Jack cast a sideways glance at Brooke then turned back to Kalen. If the kid thought he could control a vampire hunter, he was either made of tougher stuff than Jack gave him credit for, or he had a lot to learn. “Okay, kid, it’s all yours. At least until I find somebody better or you prove you’re not worthy.”
Kalen paled with the caveat and Brooke hid a wicked smile.
*****
Laura climbed aboard the G550 and walked to the rear of the plane. The seats were overstuffed leather recliners and the plane had two full bathrooms, a wet bar, three televisions, game systems, DVD players, a small kitchenette…I could live on this thing.
“Grab a seat and get strapped in. These types of planes can really pull you back.” Jennifer tossed her bag into an overhead storage bin and fell into a chair, pulling the lap belts across and buckling them.
“In a rush? Doesn’t he have like a long list of pre-flight stuff to go through?”
“He said something about the plane being checked out before we got here. Another pilot was supposed to have taken it, and he pulled in his favor. Anyway, he knows I’m running against a clock, so I’m betting he’ll be cutting corners.”
Laura heard the engines whine to life and she sat in a seat opposite Jennifer. She no sooner strapped in when she felt the brakes release and the plane begin to taxi. “Holy cow, you weren’t kidding.”
“These things usually take two to fly, so maybe Mick is co-piloting? Or vice versa? I don’t know, don’t care, and don’t want to know.”
Laura grimaced at her tone and looked away, trying to think of what to say. “You know, he could be telling the truth. That he did what he did because he cares about you.”
“If he cared, he wouldn’t have lied. He would have simply told me from the beginning and…I don’t know. Maybe I would have played along just to fool my father.”
“Jen, you heard what your father did to him when you came up missing. He thought Mick was involved, and he tortured him.”
“All the more reason not to do what my father wanted.” She turned and glared at Laura. “I can’t believe that you’re defending him.”
“I’m not defending him. I’m just trying to see things from his point of view.” Laura shrugged. “Haven’t you ever done something that you regretted?”
“No.” Jennifer looked away and Laura knew she was lying.
“Really?” She leaned over in her seat and stared at the smaller woman. “Even when you shredded your Fated Mate?”
“He had that coming.”
“Who’s to say he didn’t. But you didn’t feel the slightest bit of regret once you realized who he was? Or once you realized that he just wanted to try to talk to you? To try to help you calm down?”
“Don’t go there, Laura.” Jennifer turned and gave her a stony stare. “You have no idea what it’s like to lose ten years of your life. To be…frozen and used as a lab rat.”
“And yet, here you are. Rushing back to see him.” Laura raised a brow at her.
“No, I’m going back to see if there’s anything to this Fated Mate thing.” Her voice softened and she turned away again. “I’d be lying if I said I was perfectly okay with it all. Every time I close my eyes and see his face, my breath catches in my throat and I…” she gulped air and her hands shook. “I’m scared to death. I see that same face. So angry. So full of hate. And he’s shooting me, Laura. He shot me in the face.”
“So why are you going back?” Laura reached a hand out to hold Jennifer’s, but she pulled away.
“Because I have to. If he’s truly my Fated Mate…then I have t
o, I have no choice.” Jennifer’s voice broke, and Laura thought she would burst into tears at any moment.
“I guess you’re right, I don’t understand. If somebody caused me that much distress just thinking about them, there’s no way I could go back and…” she shook her head. “I just couldn’t go back.”
Jennifer sighed heavily and turned her face to the window. “Because you’re not wolf. You’ll never understand.”
“Look, Jen, Matt’s my boss. He’s my friend. I’d do just about anything for him. But let’s be honest here, you were doing just fine on your own before you knew he was who he was. You don’t have to do this. Just follow your heart. Do what will make you happy.”
Jennifer finally turned and Laura saw her tear streaked face. “You still don’t get it, do you? The Fates arranged this. This isn’t an arranged marriage worked out in some back room by two wealthy families. This is the Fates. You don’t mess with the Fates. If they say you’re supposed to be together, then you’re supposed to be together. Whether you want it or not. There’s a reason for it. A purpose bigger than ourselves. It may not manifest now, or even a generation from now. It may not manifest for fifty generations, but if our coupling brings about something important in the future, then I HAVE to see it through.”
“Horse shit.” Laura sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously. If the Fates are all that important, they’ll find another way to make something happen. The future of mankind…er, well, wolfkind, won’t be dependent on whether or not you mate with Matt.”
Jennifer sighed and shook her head. “See? You can’t understand.”
“Because I’m not wolf. I get it.” Laura sat back and closed her eyes for the long flight.
*****
Sleep refused to come. Apollo shifted on his narrow cot and stared towards where Bigby lay on his own cot, snoring lightly. I ought to slit his throat in his sleep. He turned back and stared at the ceiling, knowing that any direct actions taken toward either Bigby or Sheridan would give him away.
Wayward Son Page 19
