Lover Mine(101)

"--if you think this family of great means would begrudge a meal to aid in the search of their daughter, you are vastly mistaken."

Tohrment dropped his hand. "I shall find lodging. Food."

"Yes, you will." Darius nodded to the ring of trees around the neighboring estate. "Now may we proceed?"

When Tohrment nodded, the pair of them dematerialized into the forest and then stalked their way onto the property of the other mansion.

With each forward stride toward their destination, Darius felt upon him a sense of crushing dread which increased until he found it hard to breathe: Time was working against them.

Every night that passed and they didn't find her was another step closer to her death.

And they had so very little to go on.





THIRTY-SIX





The Caldwell Greyhound terminal was on the far side of down-town, on the edge of the industrial park that stretched south of the city. The old flat-roofed building was ringed by a corral of chain- link fence, as if the buses were flight risks, and its porte cochere had a sag in the middle.

As John took form in the lee of a parked bus, he waited for Xhex and Qhuinn. Xhex was the first to arrive, and man, she was looking much better; the second attempt at eating had stayed down just fine and her color was really good. She was still in the scrub bottoms Doc Jane had given her, but on top she had on one of his black hoodies, and one of his windbreakers.

He loved the outfit. Loved that she was in his threads. Loved that they were too big on her.

Loved that she looked like a girl.

Not that he didn't totally get off on her leathers and her muscle shirts and her I'll-crack-your-balls-if-you-step-out-of-line routine. That was a complete turn-on, too. It was just . . . the way she looked now seemed private, for some reason. Probably because he was damned sure she didn't let herself get seen like this very often.

"Why are we here?" she asked, looking around. Her voice wasn't disappointed or annoyed, thank God. She was just curious.

Qhuinn took form about ten yards away and crossed his arms over his chest like he didn't trust himself not to hit something. The guy was in a vicious mood. Absolutely vile. He hadn't had two civil words to say in the foyer as John had told him the order of places they were going, and the cause hadn't been clear.

Well . . . at least not until Blay had walked by the group looking like a million bucks in a gray pin-striped suit. The guy had paused only to say goodbye to John and Xhex; he hadn't spared even a glance for Qhuinn as he'd gone out the vestibule and into the night.

He'd had fresh cologne on.

Clearly he was going on a date. But with who?

On a hiss and roar, a bus trundled out of the lot, the diesel fumes making John's nose threaten a sneeze.

Come on, he mouthed to Xhex, switching his backpack to his other shoulder and drawing her forward.

The two of them walked across the damp pavement toward the glowing fluorescent light of the terminal. Even though it was chilly, John kept his leather jacket open in case he needed to get to his daggers or his gun, and Xhex was packing as well.

Lessers could be anywhere and humans could be idiots.

He held the door open for her and was relieved to see that aside from the ticket taker who was behind bulletproof Plexiglas, there was only an old man sleeping upright on one of the plastic benches and a woman with a suitcase.

Xhex's voice was low. "This place . . . you're saddened by it."

Shit, he supposed he was. But not from what he'd experienced here . . . more what his mother must have felt, being alone and in pain while she struggled through labor.

Whistling in a loud burst, he held up his palm as the three humans looked over. Dialing down their consciousness, he put them each in a light trance and then walked over to the metal door that had a sign screwed into it: WOMEN.

Planting his hand on the cold panel, he pushed his way in a little and listened. No sounds. Place was empty.

Xhex walked past him, her eyes going around the cinder-block walls and the stainless-steel sinks and the three stalls. The place smelled like Clorox and damp, sweaty stone and the mirrors weren't made of glass, but of polished sheets of metal. Everything was bolted down, from the drooling soap dispensers to the No Smoking sign to the rubbish bin.

Xhex stopped in front of the handicapped stall, her eyes sharp. As she nudged open the flapping door, she recoiled and seemed confused.

"Here . . ." She pointed down to the floor in the corner. "Here was where you were . . . where you landed."

When she glanced back at him, he shrugged. He didn't know which stall precisely, but it made sense that if you were having a baby, you'd want to be in the one with the most space.

Xhex stared at him as if she were seeing through him and he briefly shifted around and checked to see if someone had joined them. Nope. Just her and him, together in the women's bathroom.