His voice didn't sound right somehow, John thought.
And there was no reply.
Rehv hit the lights and released John's arm as they both went inside. The kitchen was nothing but a stretch of galley with the bare essentials: gas oven, older refrigerator, stainless-steel sink that was functional, not chic. But everything was spotless and there was no clutter at all. No mail, no magazines. No weapons left out.
Musty. The air was still and musty.
Across the way, there was a single large room with a bank of windows that faced the water. Furniture was minimal: nothing but two wicker chairs, a rattan couch, and a short table.
Rehv walked right through, heading for a single closed door to the right. "Xhex?"
Again with that voice. And then the male put his palm on the jamb and leaned in to the panels, closing his eyes.
On a shudder, Rehv's huge shoulders lowered.
She wasn't there.
John strode forward, and went for the handle, pushing his way into her bedroom. Empty. And so was the bathroom beyond.
"Goddamn it." Rehv turned on his heel and strode off. When a door slammed on the river side of the cabin, John figured the guy had gone out onto the porch and was staring at the water.
John cursed in his head as he looked around. Everything was neat and tidy. Nothing out of place. No windows cracked for fresh air or doors that had been recently opened.
The fine dust on the knobs and the fastenings told him that.
She might have been here, but she was gone now. And if she had come, she hadn't stayed long or done much, because he could detect nothing of her scent.
He felt like he'd lost her all over again.
Christ, he'd thought that her being alive would be enough to carry him through--but the idea she was somewhere on the planet and yet not with him was strangely crippling. Plus he felt blinded by the situation; he still didn't know the hows and whats and wheres of any of it.
Flat out sucked, to be honest.
Eventually, he went out to join Rehv on the little porch. Grabbing his pad, he scribbled quickly and prayed to hell the symphath could understand where he was coming from.
Rehv looked over his shoulder and read what John held up. After a moment, he said, "Yeah. Sure. I'll just tell them she wasn't here and you came with me to go eat at iAm's place. It'll buy you a good three, four hours of space minimum."
John put his palm over his pec and bowed deeply.
"Just don't go out fighting. I don't need to know where you're going, that's your biz. But if you get yourself killed, I got ninety- nine problems and you're the biggest one of them." Rehv looked back out to the river. "And don't worry about her. She's done this once before. This is the second time she's been . . . taken away like that."
John's hand snatched out and grabbed hard onto the male's forearm. Rehv didn't even flinch . . . then again, there were rumors he couldn't feel anything because of what he did to control his symphath side.
"Yup. This is number two. She and Murhder had been going together--" As John's fangs made an appearance, Rehv smiled a little. "That's long passed. No need to worry there. But she ended up heading to the colony for family reasons. They played her, though, and wouldn't let her out. When Murhder went up to get her, the symphaths snatched him as well, and shit got critical. I had to make a bargain to get them both out, but her family sold her at the last second, right out from under my nose."
John swallowed hard and signed without thinking. To who?
"Humans. She got herself free, though, just like she did this time. And then she went away for a while." Now Rehv's amethyst eyes flashed. "She'd always been tough, but after whatever those humans did to her, she got hard."
When, John mouthed.
"Some twenty years ago." Rehv resumed staring out at the water. "FYI, she wasn't kidding in that message. She's not going to appreciate anyone coming in and being her hero with Lash. She's going to have to do that herself. You want to help the situation? Let her come to you when she's ready-- and stay out of her way."
Yeah, well, she probably wasn't going to be in a hurry to text his ass, John thought. And as for the Lash thing? He wasn't sure he could let that one go. Even for her.
To cut off his own thinking, John put out his palm. The two of them met chest-to-chest in a brief hug and then John dematerialized.
When he took form, he was back at the Xtreme Park, behind the shed, looking out over the empty ramps and bowls. The head drug pusher wasn't back. No skating, either. Both made sense. Raid the night before with a shitload of cops coming? To say nothing of the bullet shower?
Place was going to be a ghost town for a while.
John leaned against rough wood, his senses alert. He was aware of time passing, both because of the position of the moon pinwheeling in an arc overhead, and because his brain downshifted from manic spin to a more reasonable churn. Which still sucked but was easier to sit with.