“Indeed I do, mate. We’ll be in touch.”
I wrapped Guthrie in a brief hug, still unable to meet his gaze. As before, he seemed mildly taken aback by the gesture before he carefully returned the embrace. Rans clapped him on the upper arm as I pulled away.
Then, his cool fingers closed around my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Come on, love. Let’s go see what’s waiting for us at your place.”
FIVE
I FIDGETED IN the elevator going down from the penthouse to the parking garage. Rans was watching me; I could feel it. Rather than acknowledge his knowing blue gaze, as he effortlessly peered through the ugly mess of emotion surrounding me to see what lay beneath, I dug around in my bag for my phone and powered it on.
I was a wreck right now. Rans knew I was a wreck. There didn’t seem to be much point in dwelling on the fact.
The phone chimed a couple of times as it woke up and connected to the network. A couple of pings announced new notifications. One was for updates, but the other was a new email. I frowned, since the only email account attached to this burner cell was the throwaway one I’d registered for the sole purpose of trying to contact Vonnie.
And then, though I was embarrassed to admit it, I’d kind of forgotten about her after Len had shown up. So... hey! There was someone else to feel guilty about, as if I needed it. Two someones, really.
Poor Len. I’d half-hoped and half-dreaded that there might be a text or voicemail from him—but no. Nothing. Not that I could really blame him.
“Problem?” Rans asked. “A new one, I mean.”
“Not as such, no,” I said, double-checking that the VPN on my phone was active. Once I was sure that everything was being routed through a server in the Netherlands, I opened up the email and scanned it. “I just got a response from the friend I tried to contact before Len called back to help us, that’s all.”
He made a humming noise of acknowledgement and peered at the screen, reading over my shoulder.
Zorah! OMG, I’m SO SORRY I didn’t see this sooner, the email began. Where are you? What happened?? I’ve been worried sick ever since that day when you ran out of the office looking so upset... I tried to call and text, but first there was no answer, and then it said your phone had been disconnected.
Seriously, I feel awful for missing this email. Things have been a bit crazy here lately. Not that it’s an excuse, I mean. It’s just... I kind of owe some people money, and eventually it was easier to ditch my phone than have to fend off a gazillion calls a day about it, you know? But seriously, let me know that you’re okay. I’ve really been freaking out about what happened at MMHA ... like, to the point that I quit volunteering there.
WHAT HAPPENED? It was like pod people came in and took over everyone’s bodies. *shudders*
—Vonnie.
“Interesting,” Rans said.
“What part?” I asked absently, already typing out a reply.
Hi, Von—I’m okay. Kind of a long story re: the thing at MMHA with the pod people and the creepy blond dude. What about you, though? Is there anything I can do to help?
—Zorah
“The part where your friend apparently didn’t fall under Caspian’s spell,” Rans clarified.
I paused. “Huh. Good point. I... guess she wasn’t actually in the room with him? Maybe he wasn’t trying to manipulate her, just the people in charge.”
“Perhaps so,” Rans murmured, not sounding convinced.
The elevator dinged. I added my new phone number to the end of the email and hit send, trying not to think too hard about my hypocrisy as I did it. I had no business offering help to Vonnie when I wasn’t in a position to follow through. These days, I couldn’t even keep my own life from imploding, much less someone else’s.
I stuffed the phone back in my bag as I followed Rans through the elevator doors and into the garage. We crossed to the sleek black Triumph motorcycle, which had been patiently awaiting its owner’s return. Rans slid a proprietary hand over the metalwork before strapping his duffel across the back. I settled my bag a little more firmly over my shoulder since there wasn’t really a good place to stow the square-sided carry-on.
He handed me a helmet and I raised my eyebrow at him.
“Not sure head injuries are really at the top of my list of concern, these days,” I said, thinking of his miraculous recovery after having his brains splattered everywhere by a Fae bullet. Even now, the memory was enough to draw a shudder from me... but seriously, motorcycle crashes no longer held nearly as much terror when you knew you could swirl out of existence before your body ever hit the pavement.
“Humor me,” he said.
It was such a small thing, in the midst of everything we were facing. I took the helmet with a shrug and put it on, forcing a smile as I did so. The expression probably looked more like a grimace.
Jesus. As upset as I’d been to find out that my father was trapped in Hell with the rest of the human tithelings, I was even more upset to discover that he’d gotten out. Which demon had he tied himself to in order to escape the gate? There were no good answers to that question—only bad ones, and even worse ones.
“Do you still have the second salt dagger with you?” Rans asked, his thoughts evidently running parallel with mine.
“Yeah, of course,” I said.
I pulled the dagger and its leather sheath out of the zippered side pocket of my bag and held it out to him. But he only shook his head.
“No, you keep it,” he said. “Just in case, mind.”
Firming my jaw, I nodded and strapped the sheath around my thigh. Any cops who happened to see it might not be too amused,
