To Dance with the Devil

knew where she was and that she was under guard, they’d plan accordingly. Which meant it was more risky—to her and to my people—leaving her in place.

“All right. Ask Talia if she’s capable of doing an illusion of you sitting in the chair outside the door.”

I heart muffled sounds as Bubba covered the phone and did what I’d asked. A second later he was back. “She said yes, but she won’t be able to hold it long.”

“All right. Does Michelle have any street clothes?”

“Yeah, since she was due to check out tomorrow, Kevin had Talia bring her some sweats.”

Way to go, Kevin, thinking ahead! “Good. Have Michelle get dressed. When the nurse is distracted, you take Michelle down to the cafeteria. There’s an exit right there that leads into a staff parking lot. Once you’re out of view, Talia should put the spell on the chair, then talk to it, say something about going to get herself a snack, that she’ll bring you back a sandwich. Tell her to make sure that the nurse hears her. Then she leaves, gets the car, drives around to the cafeteria exit, and picks you up there.”

“Right,” he agreed. “I’ll call you back when we’re on the road.”

He hung up and I started pacing. Damn it, damn it, damn it. I should be there. I knew Bubba was good. I was pretty sure Talia was. But damn it.

“Something’s gone wrong.” Fred didn’t have to read my mind to know that. He’d heard me talking on the phone.

“Yeah. The bad guys are at the hospital.”

My phone rang again. Before I could even say hello, Bubba said, “They hit the room with magic just after we left. I’m thinking it was a fire spell.”

I could hear the alarm sounding in the background, along with a calm voice announcing the code for the evacuation protocol.

If he wasn’t in the room, I wondered how he knew it had been a direct hit, but I didn’t ask. Maybe Talia had felt it and said something. She might have done the wards when she came on duty. It really didn’t matter. “Where are you now?”

He started to answer, but the cell signal cut out. I wasn’t surprised. There was a lot of magic flying around, and some of the regular equipment at a hospital could interfere with cell transmission. But damn it! What I wouldn’t give to have my siren ring back from Bruno. My telepathy just wasn’t strong enough to connect clearly with Bubba without it.

“I didn’t hear that. Repeat,” I said.

“The pantry off the kitchen. There was a guy in the hall by the cafeteria exit.”

“Shit.”

The call dropped again. So frustrating! I started focusing, trying to picture Bubba in my mind. I could almost do it, but damn, it was hard. I was panting from the effort when I felt Fred’s gentle touch on my arm.

With a jolt, Bubba popped into focus, as clear as if he was standing in front of my face. I could even see the room around him and Michelle in her plain gray sweats. It was almost as if I was actually there. Bubba was whispering softly into his phone. “Do we have a plan, or do I improvise?”

Bubba, close the phone. We’re going to do it this way. He jerked, startled, then slid the phone into his pocket.

Someone is searching the kitchen, he thought.

How many?

Just one.

One meant they didn’t have a bead on Michelle. Magical tracking is tricky, and the same things that were wreaking havoc with cell calls would make it hard for them to find her. Still, if they were smart, they’d have people watching all the exits, and Bubba isn’t exactly unnoticeable.

Want me to deal with him?

Yes. Then put on an apron and a hairnet and take Michelle out the cafeteria door.

It wouldn’t be much of a disguise, but it was something—maybe enough to make a watcher overlook him. Maybe. I hoped.

Fred and I watched as Bubba signaled for Michelle to stay in place, then slipped out of the pantry, moving in utter silence. Straining, using his ears, I could hear the soft shuffle of steps, harsh breathing. There was the crackle of a radio, and a metallic-sounding voice said, “Have you found them yet?”

“No. But I swear I saw them come in here, and they haven’t gone out the fire exit. I’ve been keeping it in my line of sight.”

“Fine. I’m sending Ted down to back you up. But we need to hurry. We only have a two-minute window left.” I shuddered. Even with the radio distortion I recognized that voice. It was Suit. Finn.

“I know.”

Bubba waited beside some metal shelving stacked with pots and pans until the hunter stepped forward. With brutal speed and zero hesitation, Bubba swept one arm down, knocking the thug’s gun to the floor as he threw a hard punch into the man’s throat with the other. The enemy was a big guy, built like a bodybuilder, but he fell like a sack of grain, too busy struggling to breathe around the swelling in his throat to worry about anything else.

DUCK! Fred’s voice shouted in both our minds. Bubba dropped to the floor, diving for the gun he’d knocked from his opponent’s hand, as a spell ball exploded against a pan right behind where his head had been. Acid ate through the steel in less time than it took to draw a breath.

Bubba didn’t spare time or thought to watch. Grabbing the dropped gun, he turned, aimed, and pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession. Only one slug hit, but it was enough to put the skinny little spell slinger down.

Bubba called to Michelle, who rushed out of the pantry to join him. The two of them looked around quickly. It took a few precious seconds, but they found a pair of aprons that had headgear in the pockets. They had just gotten dressed when the radios the thugs wore crackled and Finn’s imperious voice said, “Jon, Ted, report.”

The crackle of the static that followed that last word echoed behind Michelle and Bubba as they hurried out of the kitchen toward the cafeteria exit.

Then my connection with them vanished.

22

I supported most of Fred’s weight as I guided him over to the couch. His skin was grayish and clammy. He’d pushed himself too hard. He wasn’t having a heart attack—I could hear it beating steadily in his chest. But he’d badly overstrained his magic. I’d been so worried about Bubba and Michelle I hadn’t really thought about how hard what Fred was doing would be on him.

“Damn it, Fred!”

“You needed me. It was important.” He stretched out on the couch, looking terrifyingly frail. “Don’t tell Dottie.”

“You think she won’t notice?” I snapped as I looked around. I tried to remember exactly what the first aid was for this sort of thing. In the hospital with Dottie they’d given her fluids and carbohydrates. I ran into the kitchen. It was echoingly empty. Not a glass for water, no food in the cupboards. Shit! No, wait. There was a nutrition shake in my purse. I’d packed it because this was a fairly long trip and I didn’t want to risk getting vampity on the way. I ran out to the truck fetch it.

Fred was already breathing easier when I got back. Once he’d drained the shake, his color began to improve.

“Promise me you won’t tell Dottie. After the trouble I gave her the other day, she’ll never let me live it down. And I’ll be fine, I just need to rest.”

I scowled at him and didn’t answer. Chances were good that she’d hauled out her bowl and was watching us right now. So I said the only thing I could think of that would make him happy without getting me in trouble with his wife. “I try not to get caught between married people when they’re arguing.”