We dropped the trash from our meal into the receptacle by the door and returned to our rides. We took a few more minutes for me to top off my tank at the Allsup’s across the street and then we were back on the road, turning west along Highway 87 toward Dalhart, Texas. Rafe had shown me a map in a rest area back on the Interstate south of Amarillo, and he had traced out our intended route toward Colorado.
Since Rafe wasn’t doing a lot of talking over the wind–again, it hadn’t been a problem when we were both on Beast–the ride gave me plenty of time to think about what had happened to my life since I’d been killed in Afghanistan. The shock of finding out I’d actually died was just the start. Then there was the Valkyrie who had brought me back. The Valkyries are harvesters of the dead, but apparently, they only harvest warriors on the battlefield. I hadn’t ever considered myself a warrior, but I guess I fit the description. I was in the Army and in combat, but I’d had medic training and spent more time taking care of my buddies’ injuries than trying to inflict them on the Taliban. Still, the IED that had cost me my left hand and most of my right leg hadn’t discriminated between actual warriors and those of us who carried the rifle more for self-defense than for assaulting the enemy.
Regardless, when Rafe showed up and told me I was his apprentice and that he could restore me, I thought he was nuts. A very handsome nut, but a nut nonetheless. He had immediately healed the burns scaring the left side of my face, earning him more than a little trust.
That was less than a week ago and since then I’ve seen him fight frost giants, Amazons, magic users, and a couple of shades who had possessed his old flame, Laura and the son Rafe didn’t know he had, Alex. Alex had survived Rafe’s fight with the shades, but Laura hadn’t.
We’d left yesterday before Alex could bury his mother, and Rafe had decided not to tell Alex he was his father. I thought it was kind of a chicken response, but Rafe may have been right about it. Alex had enough to mess with his mind without learning it was his father who had killed his mother.
I was missing Alex too. We’d hit it off, and he was only a couple of years younger than I was. It wasn’t entirely my fault that I had dragged the eighteen-year-old into bed at the first opportunity. After all, Rafe and I had been training constantly and a major component of the training involved meshing our emotions. The primary side effect of meshing your auras and emotions was that it made you incredibly horny. Rafe had tried to keep our relationship platonic, which hadn’t lasted long once I jumped him before he was well awake. I had to smile at the memory. The sixty-something-year-old man was trapped in the body of someone not yet twenty-five and those years had racked up a lot of experience. Some of it was dedicated to killing things that needed killing, but some of it was better expressed in the bedroom.
Rafe had explained how Wanderers were not immortal, but we only aged a year or so for every decade. He’d been younger than I was when he was reaped from a battlefield in Vietnam and after all this time, he still was carded by most bartenders.
As the miles passed at 75 mph, I spent more time than I should have comparing the man and his son. Rafe had the experience, but his son was so enthusiastic.
Chapter 4
Raphael
We reached Dalhart’s lower speed limit, 35 mph, and I glanced to my right to see if Tess wanted to stop. For some reason, she had a wide smile on her face.
I let go of the throttle and tapped her arm. She turned her head toward me and her smile widened.
“Something amusing?”
Tess shook her head. “Just a memory.”
“Want to share?” I asked.
“Not right now, maybe later,” she responded.
I nodded, curious, but respectful of her wishes. “I just wanted to ask if you needed a pit break.”
Tess looked thoughtful for a moment and then asked, “What’s the road like ahead? Is this like the last stop for a hundred miles?”
I grinned. “No, that would be Texline. It’s about another half hour up the road.”
“Okay, I can wait until then.”
“Your choice. I know you’re not as used to spending the day in the saddle and I don’t want you to get as sore as you were yesterday.”
She returned my grin. “What’s the matter? Do you worry that I’m going to insist on that massage this time?”
Well, what could I say to that? “Not at all. If you really want a massage when we camp for the day, I’ll be happy to give you one.”
“Really? You seemed reluctant last night,” Tess returned.
“Not so much reluctant as…” I trailed off. I had been reluctant to give her a massage. What was my problem? I didn’t often have to query the motive behind my actions. If my apprentice wanted a massage, then I should have given her one. Of course, with Tess, I was willing to bet that a massage would involve a lot more skin-to-skin action than just working out stiff muscles.
I noticed she was keeping an eye on me, waiting for me to finish. A traffic light changed red ahead of us, and
