Desert Devil (Old School Book 5)

by Jenny Schwartz

  His home was a mid-twentieth century ranch house. Barns and a couple of sheds were set to the side of it. A few trees growing around the yard at least softened the starkness, not that there wasn’t beauty in the low rolling land that stretched out to the mountains on the horizon and rose up to a low hill behind the house. But it was the sky that dominated, bright with stars and with the moon so low that it felt as if Donna could race across the desert, jump up and catch it.

  Assuming she had the energy. Despite the time they’d saved in returning her rental car by travelling most of the distance via portal rather than driving, it had still been a long day. She’d had an early flight from Washington to Atlanta before flying on to Phoenix under a false ID and driving out to warn Rest.

  She was smothering yet another yawn as she walked into the living room. Rest hadn’t unlocked his front door, just pushed it open. The living room froze her yawn in mid-gape. It was so unlikely; as if grandparents lived here, not Rest. The furniture was old and worn, but fitted comfortably in the small space.

  Rest looked around, following her gaze. “I bought the furniture with the place.”

  “Oh.” Whoever he’d bought the ranch from, they had clearly furnished their house once, then never updated. Nor had Rest. But everything was clean and when she got over the shock of first appearances, the room wasn’t actually a vintage time capsule. There were things like a modern television and music system. “It’s kind of cool. You’ve got a retro vibe going.”

  He gave her a look that suggested she was crazy. “The bed’s new. If you want to shower, the bathroom’s the second door on the left. I’ll change the sheets.”

  “Pardon?”

  He ducked a shoulder in minor embarrassment as he walked around her. “I only have one bed. I don’t usually have guests. I have camping gear. I’ll take the floor.”

  His embarrassment was nothing to her flood of shame. Her face reddened. She had invited herself into his home with no thought for how that affected him. She’d even been a little bit proud of herself for inveigling her way into his life. “I’ll take the floor,” she said gruffly.

  “No.”

  “Rest, I invited myself.”

  He snorted. “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you here. You’re a guest.”

  She folded her arms. “Do you give your other guests your bed?”

  His expression blanked.

  It took her a second to interpret his lack of response, a second that she decided to blame on exhaustion. Rest didn’t have guests. That was the life he’d chosen. She squeezed her eyes tight shut for a moment, determined not to cry.

  The three guys he’d been talking with at the diner meant he wasn’t a hermit. But still…she guessed that his was a lonely life. Pity would only offend him. “The sofa will be fine for me. I’m short, see?” She gestured up and down her body.

  He gaze followed her hand, before his black eyebrows drew together in a scowl. “Have your shower.”

  “If you promise that—”

  He grabbed her shoulders and guided her to the bathroom. It was an enamel green, black and white 1950s bathroom. He released her there, but only to grab a large blue towel from a cupboard and shove it at her. Then he closed the door.

  “Stubborn!” she shouted. But she had her weekender bag with her and the thought of a shower was heavenly. Her travels for work had taught her that while you might think that leaving pajamas out saved room in your bag, the unexpected was likely to happen at night, and it was a heck of a lot easier to deal with whatever occurred in pajamas than naked. So she had pale blue cotton pajamas with her to change into after her shower.

  The warm water made her sleepy and washed away her angry embarrassment. The only thing worse than a self-invited guest was one who objected to their host’s arrangements. So she found Rest in the master bedroom of the small house and set her bag down just inside the door.

  He looked up from flinging a blanket across the bed. His dark gaze flicked over her for an instant, before he concentrated on his bed-making. “We can talk in the morning. I have a few things to see to, but I’ll be around, so shout if you need anything.”

  “Goodnight,” she said quietly. Talking in the morning was a good idea. They were both tired and emotionally off-balance.

  “’Night, Donna.”

  She crawled into his bed that smelled of sun-dried sheets. The window was wide open, curtains pulled back so that she could see the sky and feel the wind blowing in, the land cooling slowly.

  She heard footsteps and a few seconds later saw Rest crossing to the barn. Did he have animals? She hadn’t seen cattle.

  Her eyes closed, not even opening at a strange braying noise. Rest would handle any problems.

  Morning on the ranch was lazier than Donna had expected. She woke early, but heard Rest already moving around. She joined him in the kitchen, eating a quick breakfast of cereal and toast. Neither spoke much beyond “pass the jelly, please”, but the shared meal wasn’t uncomfortable.

  “I have a couple of chores to do, then we can talk,” he said. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “Yes.”

  He grabbed his hat.

  She took her cap from the back pocket of her shorts and put it on. Of course ranch chores would be outside. She was excited to see more of Rest’s new life. How many horses did he have?

  The barn was empty of livestock, mostly.

  “If you see a snake, it’s probably the resident python, but it could be something more poisonous, so step back and call for me.”

  “Okay,” she agreed in a small voice. Her gaze darted into the shadowed nooks of the barn, while he filled two buckets with feed and carried them out. The braying noise she’d vaguely heard last night repeated itself loudly, now.

  On the far side of the barn she stopped and stared. “That’s a camel and two donkeys. Why?”

  Rest put the buckets down at his feet and shrugged. “They needed a home.” The camel lipped at his hand. His easy way with the animals was appealing.

  Still, she was puzzled. “I haven’t seen any cattle or horses?”

  “It’s not a working ranch. I’m letting the land recover. It’s been overgrazed.” He studied the land with an air of ownership and responsibility, a cowboy without cows, but with a love of the land.

  She wanted to hug him for being himself; the kind of man who even while hiding from his old life, had found a new battle to fight and wouldn’t abandon it. He would restore the land.

  However, if he didn’t undertake typical ranch work, how did he fill his days? “So what do you do? I know that’s a rude question and you don’t have to answer, but you don’t get muscles like yours by lazing around.”

  He grinned as he emptied the buckets of feed into a trough. The donkeys nudged him aside and pushed in. “I’m building a house.”

  Involuntarily, she glanced back at the old ranch house.

  “That’s temporary. I repaired it sufficiently to continue living in, but I’ll demolish it when the new house is finished. I’ll probably leave the barn, though, and the yard attached to it.”

  She turned in a full circle. “I don’t see another house.” She grabbed his arm as a thought struck her. The camel blinked its ridiculously long eyelashes at her impulsive action, then sniffed her hand. “Are you building an underground bunker, like a doomsday prepper?”

  Rest laughed.

  The taller, darker brown donkey brayed.

  “Smart ass,” Donna muttered at it, and the donkey brayed again.

  “I’m building an adobe house. It’s on the other side of the rise.” He pointed back at the low, rocky hill behind the house. “Do you want to see it?”

  “Yes!”

  For a predominantly flat landscape, the climb up the hill had a couple of steep rocky bits, but once over the crest, the house was right there. And it was bigger than she’d expected. She gawked at Rest. “You did all of this in two years?”

  “A year and a half. It took me a while to work
out what I wanted to do and find the land.”

  “It’s a house, Rest,” she told him as if he didn’t know. She gestured at the expanse of it as it snuggled and snaked along the contours of the rocky hill. Its stucco walls were a mellow rusty orange with a matt-finish gray metal roof. “You built a house!”

  He grinned at her enthusiasm. He was a man proud of his work, but for the first time there was also a hint of the boy he’d been, the one who’d smiled at her when he’d had few smiles for anyone else.

  Her heart melted.

  “I bought the adobe bricks rather than make them myself, which saved time.”

  “Uh huh,” she said distractedly. “Can we go inside?”

  The house was beautiful. They walked in the back door, which opened directly into the kitchen. It was messy.

  “The plumbing has only just gone in,” Rest said. “I’m starting on the cabinets. I have to decide on the tiles I want for the backsplash.”

  “Something blue and homemade,” she said dreamily. “They’ll contrast with the terracotta tiles on the floor. I love the color of this wood, and the smell of it.” There was sawdust on the floor.

  “It’s reclaimed oak.”

  The ceiling was high and white. The walls were a subtly darker eggshell white. The adobe construction gave the house a soft, organic feel. It was a place of comfortable curves. The internal doorways were larger than standard, and lacked doors.

  “Is this the living room? I like that you’ve kept the kitchen separate. I know other people prefer to be able to join in the conversation while they cook, but your kitchen is big enough for company, and I like the separation. Someone watching TV won’t be distracted by someone else cooking.”

  She marveled at everything she saw, touching and staring. Analyzing. The house was way bigger than one man needed.

  Rest was building a family home. It painfully contradicted his current lifestyle. At the old ranch house, there was no evidence of a woman living or even visiting. The chasm between how he lived and what he dreamed was poignant.

  Her thoughts scattered as she saw the window seat built wide and long beneath the large window that looked out across the desert. “A window seat!” She sat down on it. “I’ve always wanted a window seat. When you were making your birdhouse, you added one for me.” She smoothed her hands over the seat’s plastered finish. “You need brightly colored cushions. Jewel tones. Emerald, ruby, turquoise.”

  “The birdhouse.” He snapped his fingers. “Is that how your finder talent friend found me, the personal connection?”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” She thought she had. “Yes. Sadie has the birdhouse tucked away in her Washington townhouse. Don’t worry. No one’s going to get to it. Her husband, Marcus, takes their security seriously.”

  Rest shook his head once, sharply. “Forget its current whereabouts. Did you climb the old oak tree for it?”

  “Yes, and I survived. Don’t fuss!” She got up and linked her arm through his. “Show me the rest of your gorgeous home.”

  He resisted her slight tug. “Donna, you shouldn’t put yourself at risk for me.”

  “And if I think you’re worth the risk?”

  The atmosphere flashed to volatile, an emotional thunderstorm brewing. Donna welcomed it. His house spoke so truly of his dreams.

  His cellphone buzzed. The instant he read the message on it, his expression locked down, and that was its own giveaway.

  “Trouble?” she asked.

  He clamped her arm against his side and walked her into a portal and out almost in the same instant. That he’d used a portal to transport them from the adobe house to the kitchen of the old ranch house told her that the message on his phone wasn’t merely trouble. It was an emergency alert.

  A drawer rattled as he pulled it open abruptly. He dropped his phone onto the counter and switched on what was likely a burner phone from the drawer. He punched in a number from memory. “Austin?”

  A low, angry voice answered. “Someone dumped Darius unconscious on my porch.”

  Rest’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Donna, aware that she was listening and letting her overhear the conversation. “I’m coming in.”

  “We’re ready to go.”

  He switched off the phone.

  “It could be a trap.” She recognized the names. Austin had sat with her and Rest in the hospital, waiting for news on whether Captain Darius Selbourne survived his injuries. This was Rest’s old team.

  “High likelihood,” he agreed. He strode past her and opened a cupboard by the front door. He took out a semi-automatic handgun, checked that the safety was on and that it was loaded, and handed it to her. “Two men will return with me. They’ll be the ones I’m holding onto. If there’s anyone clinging to them, shoot to kill.”

  Her eyes widened. The gun was cold and heavy in her grip.

  “You told me once that your school taught you how to defend yourself, guns included.”

  She gulped. “Yes. But don’t you need—”

  “I have a knife.” And by the way he said it, that was enough.

  A portal opened, and he stepped into the Path. The portal shut.

  Alone in the house, she had a moment of panicked fright. She gripped the gun two-handed and breathed slowly, steadily, as her training kicked in. A gun fired in panic was a risk to everyone, including the person holding it. Rest was relying on her. She sidled along the living room wall till she could step back into the corridor. From there, she could see who exited the portal, but hopefully wouldn’t be seen immediately herself. If there were more than three men, she had instructions to shoot to kill.

  “Stop shaking,” she ordered her hands sternly. She had the safety off and the heavy gun ready to aim and fire.

  The portal reopened and Rest emerged, gripping the wrists of two men. “Safe, Donna. Stand down.”

  She lowered the gun, clicked on the safety, and let him take it from her. Then she took a deep, shuddering breath.

  He clasped her shoulder, waiting for her eyes to focus on his. “I have to collect Gabe.”

  She nodded, recognizing the name. Gabe Somebody was the last surviving member of Rest’s former team.

  The portal opened, and Rest walked backward into it.

  It closed, and she was left staring at the two men suddenly present in the old-fashioned living room.

  “Who the f—”

  The shorter man elbowed the taller one in the stomach. “I’m Austin. Rest said a friend of his would greet us with a gun. He didn’t mention his friend was pretty.” Austin smiled. Dark brown hair curled in an expensive cut and his teeth gleamed. He was gorgeous. He wore a white business shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, an expensive watch, and black trousers. His shoes were highly polished.

  He didn’t recognize her.

  “I’m Donna.”

  The portal re-opened before she could say anything else. Rest walked out with a tall, black guy dressed like Rest in a t-shirt, jeans and boots. The guy carried a duffel bag. His eyes scanned the room and halted at Donna. He extended his hand to her. “Gabe Shelby. Good to meet you under better circumstances, Donna.”

  Austin and Darius stared at him. “You know her?” Austin asked.

  “Yeah.” Gabe’s hand closed gently around hers. “So do you.”

  “Nope.” Austin winked at Donna. He even made that clichéd move charming. “I’d remember.”

  Donna ignored him, although she noticed that for all of his obvious flirting, his eyes were as wary and suspicious of her as Darius’s overtly hostile expression. Austin had changed, but Gabe still looked much as he had in the military. “You were at the hospital,” she said. “Did your burns heal?”

  “I got some mage healing. I’m good.”

  “Donna? Donna.” Austin clicked his fingers. His gleaming smile vanished, but so did the suspicion in his eyes. Instead, recognition and respect appeared. “You were the girl at the hospital. Tony Keats’s daughter. You stayed near Rest and kept vigil with us. Man, how’d
I forget you?”

  “It was a stressful time.”

  “Austin Menez,” Rest briefly re-introduced Austin. “And Darius Selbourne.”

  Captain Darius Selbourne had led Rest’s special combat unit. During their long vigil at the hospital, while the medic mages worked on him, he’d lost his right leg from the knee, but kept his life. Tall and lean, with a swimmer’s broad shoulders and chest, he glowered at Donna briefly before transferring the scowl to Rest. “Why do you have Tony Keats’s daughter in your house? You said you were cutting all ties to your old life.”

  “I did.”

  “Doesn’t look like it,” Darius growled as Rest moved to Donna’s side.

  She brushed her fingers against Rest’s hand. There was a time to keep secrets, and a time to put some cards on the table. “Tell him.”

  “All of it?”

  “Your team aren’t Larry,” she said. The three men watched the brief exchange closely. She returned their steady regard. “I’m a seer.”

  Rest summarized the situation. “She saved my life. Yesterday, she found me in time to warn me of a threat against my life when I used a portal. It happened late yesterday. I was transporting a client to a lost temple on the Silk Roads when a magical construct left there centuries ago activated and tried to drain my magic. The crystal Donna gave me broke its power. Darius, it wasn’t an elaborate plot. Donna is in as much danger as any of you for knowing me. That’s on me. I brought her to the debriefing with my client and it turned out he knew her. So she stays till I can guarantee she’s safe.”

  “So, a lifetime commitment?” Austin asked, and laughed.

  Gabe shook his head and ambled into the kitchen.

  Darius massaged his right thigh. “The timing’s suspicious. Someone wants to contact you enough that they kidnap me, and she turns up.” His angry gaze tracked the way she leaned into Rest, and how naturally he put an arm around her. “Aw, hell. Rest—”

  “She’s…family,” Rest said.