“Is she gone?” he asked, searching through thinning hair for a bump.
“Yes.”
“Is she in Hell?”
“Not my department.” Grasping the soft lines of his chin lightly with one hand, Claire tilted his head up. “It’s time you went home, Howard.”
Pale blue eyes widened.
“You were thinking about your late wife and you couldn’t sleep, so you went out for a drive.”
“For a drive…?”
“You found yourself outside the motel room where she died, and you got out of the car.”
“Out of the car…?”
“You stared at the door to the room for a long moment.”
“Long moment…?”
“Then you got back into the car and you went home.”
“Went home…?”
“You don’t know why, but you feel better about her death and the way things were left between you. You’re glad it’s over.”
“Glad to be rid of her.”
“Close enough.” It was the first definitive statement he’d made. She carefully used the new, more probable version of events to wipe out his actual memories. Then, still holding his chin, she walked him out to his car where she released him.
“Is he gone?” Dean asked as Claire came back into the room and sagged against the door.
“Oh, yeah. I demanded to know what he was doing staring at my room and he, after telling me his wife had died there, asked me if I wanted to comfort him.”
“He was sad?”
“Not that kind of comfort, Dean.”
“What…oh.”
“Lovely couple, weren’t they?” Rubbing her temples, she walked to the end of the bed and scuffed out the X with the edge of her shoe. “Makes you want to swear off relationships for the rest of your life.”
It took her a moment to figure out why the answering silence resonated like the inside of a crowded elevator after an unexpected emission. Then she realized what she’d said.
And who to.
“Open mouth, insert other foot,” Austin advised.
“But they were nasty.”
“No one’s arguing. Although I can’t understand why you’re afraid that you and Dean will someday morph into them.”
Claire had a sudden vision of herself in red stretch pants and a turquoise sweater and shuddered. “I’m not.”
“You’re not?”
“No.”
Austin snorted. “My mistake.”
“You’re not getting a…a feeling about it, are you?” No one had ever determined if cats were actually clairvoyant or if they just enjoyed being furry little shit disturbers. Claire usually leaned toward the latter, but tonight…
“It won’t happen, Claire.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I’m a cat.”
Claire used a finger to smooth down the soft fringe of hair behind Austin’s ear. “Do you think I should wake him up and apologize?”
“You already apologized. He already accepted.”
“Then why is he over there by himself and I’m over here with you?”
The cat sighed and shifted position on the pillow. “You know, maybe you should have hit the unpleasantly departed up for some relationship advice. You couldn’t possibly do any worse.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Well, duh. I can’t decide if you’re more afraid that being his first time he’ll expect all sorts of commitment that you’re not ready for, or if you’re afraid that being all of seven years older and practically decrepit you can’t live up to his expectations.”
“As if. I just…”
The silence stretched, broken only by the steady rhythm of Dean’s breathing.
“You just?”
“Never mind. Let’s just go to sleep.”
“And the cat scores another point.”
“Austin, what part of go to sleep didn’t you understand?”
Hundreds of miles away, Diana Hansen woke up with a feeling in her gut that meant one of two things. Either she now had a hormonal defense should she waste her calculus teacher, or that dream hadn’t actually been a dream.
The question now became: should she interfere?
There were rules about Keepers using knowledge of the future to influence that future. Specifically, there were rules against Keepers using knowledge of the future to influence that future. Which was a load as far as Diana was concerned. What was the point of having the ability and not using it? Seeing a disaster and not preventing it?
No point.
And Diana refused to live a pointless life.
But this particular future disaster involved her older sister, and that muddied the waters. Although she no longer adored Claire with the uncritical love of a child for a sibling fully ten years older and had become quite capable of seeing every uptight, rule-following, more-Keeper-than-thou flaw, she still loved her and didn’t want her to get hurt. On the other hand, she still owed her for telling their mother exactly what had happened and to whom in the basement of the Elysian Fields Guest House. Once what and who were known, it was only a small step to why.
Oh, yeah. She owed Claire big time for that.
One more understanding, hip to the millennium, talk from the ’rents and she was going to misuse her abilities in ways previous Keepers had never dreamed. She had a notebook full of possibilities. Just in case.
But she really didn’t want Claire to be hurt.
Much.
Scratching the back of one bare leg with the toenails on the opposite foot, Diana sighed, decided to worry about it in the morning, and went back to sleep.
When Claire woke up in the morning, Dean was gone.
“Relax. He went out to get breakfast.”
She threw back the covers with enough force to practically strip the bed, dropped her legs over the side, and shoved her feet into waiting slippers. “I wasn’t worried.”
“Of course not,” Austin snickered from the dresser. “That’s why you were wearing your kicked puppy face.”
“I don’t have a kicked puppy face!”
“If you say so.”
“And stop patronizing me!”
“Where would be the fun in that?” he asked the bathroom door as it closed.
She felt better after her shower. As soon as Dean came back, they’d talk about what had happened or not happened, and move forward. She’d explain that this whole having someone without fur and an attitude as a part of her life, was still new. He’d understand because he always understood. She’d reassure him she wanted their relationship to continue. He’d be pleased.
Then maybe they’d lock the
