“Corkscrew?” I asked.
Joe pointed toward a drawer near the refrigerator.
I retrieved the corkscrew and removed the cork from one of the bottles of cabernet, which we’d bought to go with the meal. Joe took out three tumblers and set them on the counter next to me.
I poured equal shares in the glasses, which came so close to emptying the bottle that I finished it off.
By the time the bread was browned, the sauce was ready, and we sat down to eat. It was a good meal. We were nearly done before I popped the cork from the second bottle of wine. Together we cleaned up and then Tess and I took our wine to the porch to view the city lights.
In a couple of minutes, Joe joined us.
We watched the city lights twinkle and talked of exploits and daring do. I filled Joe in on what had happened since I’d last spent time with him and then had to add explanations for things that Tess didn’t understand. Hours passed until I was tired of talking and my wine was gone.
Joe took our glasses and went inside. Tess took the opportunity to slide down the rail to lean against me. For some reason, her action struck me as being filled with eroticism. I felt the warmth of her body as our shoulders moved slowly in unison. When I turned my face to her, she raised her eyes to mine and her lips quivered slightly. I kissed her. A slow, passionate kiss that stretched out time and the front of my jeans.
A throat cleared and we hastily separated. Joe had returned with the same glasses filled with a couple of fingers of what smelled like brandy.
“Thanks, Joe,” Tess said as she took her glass and slid back down the railing to give Joe room between us.
I thanked him too and noticed he’d added a jacket to his flannel shirt.
He caught me looking and shrugged. “You Wanderers may not be bothered by the cold, but my old Ute bones don’t like it as much as they used to.”
“You’re still in good shape, Joe,” Tess said.
“For my age, you mean. No, Tess, I know how old I am. I’m not delusional. I’ll be one hundred and thirty years old come the New Year. I think it’ll be my last one, but don’t let me spoil the night with talk of old age and death. There’s a battle coming. One that will have great opportunities for heroics against overwhelming odds. If you two manage to stop the apocalypse, then magic users across the world will sing your praises for centuries to come.”
I laughed. “Yeah, if anyone notices. We don’t have a history of being noticed except by villains and their ilk. The rest of the magical world would just as well they never heard of us.”
“Don’t exaggerate your legacy, Raphael,” Joe said. “I know that most magic users don’t know much about Wanderers, but the people with real power have heard about some of your exploits and appreciate your service to keeping things safe.”
“Safe? That’s never been my mission,” I said staring out over the city lights.
“That may not have been your mission, but it is the result of your service to Fate. If not for you and your fellow Wanderers the world at large would know much more about what’s really lurking on the other side of the portals.”
“Sometimes I think it might be better if they did know. Perhaps if they had to handle things for themselves, they’d be more appreciative of those who protect them.”
“You don’t mean that, Rafe,” Tess said.
I sipped at my drink and then set the glass on the railing in front of me. “Maybe I do. For millennia, Wanderers kept things that didn’t belong here locked outside of our world. Maybe if some of them slipped past us, then other magic users would spend more time trying to do what Fate charged us to do.”
“Have you ever asked Fate?” Tess asked.
“Ask Fate? You mean ask Verðandi why she has us do the things we do?”
“Yes, exactly, why don’t you just ask her?”
“I have asked something along those lines. She told me that it was not for me to concern myself with. My tasks were to do the job, not to question why I had the job.”
“Sounds a little petty,” Tess said.
“Hah, the Norn sisters petty? I’ll be sure to tell Verðandi you said so. They’re the Norns, Tess; they weave the fate of men and gods in their tapestries and answer to no one, not even Odin.”
“Still, Verðandi seemed nice enough when we last saw her. Perhaps if you asked nicely–” Tess stopped talking when a vibration emanated from her pants.
She slid her cell phone from a back pocket and stared at the display.
I waited to see who was calling. As far as I knew, she’d only given the number to Alex and her Aunt Emily.
Her face tightened, and she held the phone out to me. “It’s a text, and I believe it’s for you.”
Joe and I swapped glances. Joe raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged one shoulder.
“I don’t know anyone who texts,” I said holding out my own hand and taking the phone from Tess.
“Everyone you know probably texts, but this isn’t from someone you know,” Tess added.
I held the phone up, and in a second, the screen pivoted until I was looking at a few lines of text beneath a phone number I didn’t recognize.
The text was straight to the point. “Wanderer, you have until sunrise to leave town or you’ll be responsible for the deaths of Command Sergeant Major and LtCol Reese-Fallins.”
I met Tess’s gaze. Her eyes were moist,
