“For what?”
He sighed. “Time to figure out how to say what I want to say. As it is, I just flew back tonight, and here you are about to ship out. So, I guess it’s now or never.”
She made no comment.
Another half minute ticked by while he continued to gaze out at the frozen pond and gather his thoughts. Eventually, he said, “You weren’t completely wrong. I mean, what you said while we were still in India.”
“About what exactly?” she asked softly.
“About that wall you told me I’d built around my heart. About me being scared that you might break through it someday.”
She nodded in silent acknowledgment but didn’t push him further.
He continued. “Here’s the thing. I'm really good at my job. It’s not bragging. Just a fact. Over the years I’ve worked with dozens of field agents under some pretty dicey conditions. A handful of them didn’t make it back home, but I always did. The main reason why I’m still breathing, and they’re not is because I never let my guard down. Not ever. Keeping that wall up kept me alive. But then you came along and expected me to tear it down like it was the easiest thing in the world to do.”
“I never thought it was going to be easy,” she countered faintly.
He didn’t seem to hear her. Forging on, he added, “Part of me wants to, but the bigger part of me doesn't.”
Cassie registered surprise. She’d always thought he was unaware of his feelings. It had never occurred to her that he believed his defensiveness offered some kind of tactical advantage.
Erik was still speaking. “Blame it on force of habit or just pure stubbornness but, either way, I’m not ready to take that wall down. At least not today. I've got a feeling it won't be anytime soon either. Maybe never.” He turned to face her, his tone earnest. “Cass, you need to know that I’m not that guy. The guy you need me to be.”
She smiled wistfully, her eyes traveling toward the retention pond. “That water is so easy to freeze. Drop the temp twenty degrees, and it’s solid. Not a ripple. If you kept the air cold enough, it could stay that way forever.” She transferred her attention back to Erik. “I wish it was that easy to do with time. I appreciate the heads up you just gave me. I do. But there’s something you need to realize about me too. Life keeps on remolding me like a lump of clay on a potter’s wheel. Since I joined the Arkana, I’ve changed so much and so fast that I don’t know who I’ll be by the time this scavenger hunt is finished.” She paused before adding gently, “You need to understand that by the time you get around to being that guy, if you ever do, I won't be this girl anymore."
“And here I thought love was supposed to last forever,” the paladin joked.
“Is that what this is?” Cassie asked in mild surprise.
A fleeting look of panic crossed Erik’s face. Then he shrugged helplessly. “I really can’t say.”
The pythia nodded, inwardly noting his choice of words.
Erik drained the rest of his beer. “I guess we’ll have to take our chances on someday.”
“I guess we will,” she agreed in a half-hearted whisper.
He stood up abruptly. “It’s time I let you get your beauty sleep.”
She didn’t protest. They unplugged the light and carried the lawn chairs back inside. Then she followed him silently to the front door. He stood framed against the night sky looking down at her.
“Whatever happens, I’m glad you told me where you stand,” she said.
He smiled briefly and kissed her on the forehead. “Happy birthday, toots. Stay safe out there.”
She regarded him gravely. “You too, dude.”
Cassie shut the door and leaned her back against it. She listened to his engine growl to life and roar off toward the highway. “Happy birthday to me,” she murmured ruefully.
Chapter 7—Paper, Airplanes
Leroy Hunt entered his apartment around midnight and dropped his duffle bag unceremoniously on the floor. In a fit of peevishness, he gave it a well-aimed kick and sent it flying across the room. He slammed the door behind him, causing it to shudder in reply. He’d just returned from the latest of the many wild goose chases that had occupied his time over the course of the winter. As he well knew, each one had been cooked up by Mr. Big to keep him away from where Hannah Metcalf was actually hiding. This last junket had been the Mother Goose of them all. He’d flown to Minneapolis which still boasted a foot of snow on the ground. The only green things he saw in that Yankee icebox were the decorations for St. Patrick’s Day!
A body would think that at least one of his fake leads would have taken him to Barbados or St. Kitts or even Miami. But no. In the dead of winter, he flew to every snowy hell hole in the sweet land of liberty. First, it was Billings, then Montpellier, then Boise, and finally Minneapolis—the land of ten thousand frozen lakes! Every place he’d visited, the story was the same from some flunky on the payroll of Mr. Big. Yes, Hannah had been there, Yes, Leroy had just missed her. Yes, he could have an address where she might be found.
As if the trips themselves weren’t bad enough, dealing with the preacher afterward was worse. The old coot would work himself up into a lather waiting for Hunt’s report. Once the bad news landed, he’d be madder than a snake on his wedding night who’d just married a garden hose. Metcalf even had the nerve to accuse Hunt of slacking off. If he only knew. The cowboy was pulling double shifts to carry out his own private investigation. While he was busy chasing down bogus leads for the
