Call Out (20 page)

London sat back, frowning. “Are you referring
to right after the show, or just now?”

“Just now,” I answered. I started to pull my
legs up to sit cross-legged, remembered I was wearing a skirt, and
settled for crossing my legs at the ankle, all ladylike and proper.
“I know that you just...kind of...broke earlier.”

“Yeah, I did. And just now...I didn’t push
things anywhere near the point of no return. I wouldn’t do that.”
London moved to sit beside me on the bed and wrapped his arm around
my shoulder, pulling me against his side. “I care about you,
Elizabeth. I’m not gonna take a chance on hurting you. Especially
not after what happened last night.”

I snuggled closer to him. “Now it’s my turn
to apologize. I know how freaked out you’ve been about that. And I
know that you wouldn’t risk going down that path again.”

London hugged me closer and kissed the top of
my head. “Let’s call it even and go to bed.”

I agreed and we took turns washing up and
brushing teeth and, in my case, changing into pajamas. I crawled
into bed beside London and he shut off the bedside lamp. In the
darkness, I curled against his side, my head on his bare chest.
Somehow, I resisted the invitation offered by all that smooth,
naked skin, concentrating on the beat of London’s heart and the
soft sighs of his breathing. Halfway through my silent bedtime
prayers, I felt myself begin to doze. I raced through the rest of
my prayers before my brain could wander off course again and then
drifted off to sleep in London’s arms.

Chapter Eighteen

I woke screaming, drenched in sweat. My heart
hammered out its rhythm double-time as I huddled against the
headboard, afraid of the dark but just as afraid of drawing
attention to myself by flipping on the lights. A soft, wounded
sound reminded me that I wasn't alone and brought me a step or two
closer to reality. The nightmare had been vivid, intense, but it
had been just that – a nightmare. Nothing in it could hurt me now.
I knew that on some level, but that knowledge wasn't quite enough
to chase away the fear.

The details were already fuzzy, but I knew
the dream had something to do with Julia. I thought, but wasn't
sure, that she'd hurt London, tortured him. She hadn't been using
her mystical cattle-prod on him, but something more sinister. A
knife maybe? Or, no....a dagger or an athame.

Someone pounded on the door, and I jumped, a
whimper escaping before I could clamp down on it. I could hear a
muffled voice through the door, but couldn't place it. Everything
seems alien and strange in the dark even at the best of times,
which this certainly was not. I pulled the blankets up around me,
clinging to the childish believe that the thick duvet would somehow
hide or protect me from the things that go bump in the night.

The door opened, and I whimpered again,
curling up into the smallest ball possible.

"Forgot I had a damn key," a familiar voice
said, flipped on the lights.

I blinked against the sudden brightness, my
terror easing as I recognized Ashe. Adrian came into the room
behind him, disheveled from sleep. Ashe moved to kneel on one side
of the bed, and only then did I realize that London was not beside
me. Glancing around, I saw no sign of him; I could only assume that
he lay out of my line-of-sight, near where Ashe was now
kneeling.

Adrian stumbled across the room, rubbing his
eyes. He glanced toward Ashe – or London - and then over at me,
hesitating for only a moment before crossing to the bed. With slow,
exaggerated movements like you'd use with a wounded animal, he
crawled onto the mattress to sit beside me. He stroked my arm, my
hair, anything within reach, with those same slow, calm movements,
and began to sing to me, his voice hushed and soothing.

By the time that Ashe had London calm and on
his feet, Adrian had worked his own brand of magic, bringing me the
rest of the way out of the nightmare and back into myself. London
crawled onto the bed to sit with his back against the headboard and
reached for me. I shied away from his touch, and tried not to feel
guilty about it. The gesture probably made London feel worse than
he already must, but I couldn't help it. It was pure instinct.

I forced instinct to take a backseat to logic
and moved to curl against London's side. Ashe still had a hand on
London's shoulder, so it would be safe, I knew. London's arm
tightened around my shoulders, and he turned to face me. His eyes
were wide and tear bright. I couldn't read the emotion in them, and
for once I wished there were no shields to keep his feelings from
me.

"What happened?" Adrian asked, dragging one
of the straight-backed chairs up beside the bed.

"Nightmare," I muttered.

"That was no nightmare, little bit," Ashe
said. "It was a psychic attack. I felt it, too."

"Julia," I said.

"Maybe. Maybe not. There's nothing in her
dossier that makes me think she's capable of something like this,
and the agency is pretty damn thorough."

"You think it was someone else?" Adrian
asked.

"I don't know what I think," Ashe admitted.
"I'll talk it over with Quinn. Later. Right now, we all need to try
to get a little more sleep."

"I don't think I'll be sleeping again
tonight," I said.

"You need rest," Ashe insisted. "We all do,
if we're going to have enough wits about us to stay safe."

I couldn't argue with the logic. Still, I
knew sleep would be hard to find now.

"Do you think it'll happen again?" London
wanted to know.

"I just don't know, Stretch."

"What can we do?"

"Not much," Ashe replied. "Whoever attacked
you was damn strong – strong enough that I felt the projection
through my shields. I've been in this business a long time.
Shielding is second nature to me. I can even do it in my sleep.
You're a long way from that still."

"What about that whole third party thing?" I
asked.

"I can't do that in my sleep," Ashe said,
"And I can't stay up all night keeping watch."

"And we wouldn't ask you to," London
said.

I nodded in agreement. "Of course not.
So...we just hope we don't keep getting ambushed while we
sleep?"

"That's about the size of it."

Sighing, I looked over at Adrian. "I so wish
I were you right now. That whole immune to magic thing would be
pretty awesome."

Adrian half-smiled. "Kind of. Not sure that
nightmares would have been worse than waking up to the sound of you
screaming. You scared the hell out of me."

"You could hear me through the walls?" I
asked, embarrassed.

"I'm surprised you didn't wake the whole
floor," Ashe chimed in.

"Awesome," I said, turning to hide my flushed
face against London's shoulder. He cuddled me closer and stroked my
hair, and I felt a little better.

Everyone was silent for a moment or two, and
then London said, "I don't want you to have to go through that
again."

"I don't want either of us to have to go
through it again," I replied.

"If I understand this whole distance
projection thing right, then only the target or another empath is
actually affected by it. Am I right?"

"Most of the time, yes," Ashe confirmed.

"So Elizabeth's nightmares were because I was
bleeding magic and not because of the attack itself."

Ashe nodded. "Yeah, but she's not gonna want
to hear what you have to say on the subject."

"Hello. I'm right here," I said. I hate when
people talk about me like I'm not even in the room.

"Sorry, Elizabeth," Ashe said with a slight
inclination of his head. "But I figured I oughta warn your boy here
to keep his trap shut before he pisses you off again."

"Probably a good plan," I said. I stretched
up to kiss London on the temple and said, "I'm not going anywhere,
so forget it."

London laughed. The unexpected sound startled
all of us, London included, but it also chased away a few more of
the emotional shadows.

"Now who's making things difficult?"

"Queen of Complicated," I said. "I warned
you."

The laughter faded from London's eyes, but a
slight smile stayed on his lips. "Please don't fight me on this,
Em," he said, brushing my hair back from my face.

The concern in his eyes melted something in
me, and I couldn't fight him. Dammit. "Fine."

London winced. "It's never good when a woman
says, 'fine'."

"It really is fine. I promise."

"You sure?" I glared up at him, and he smiled
back. "Okay, okay, you're sure." He looked up at Adrian, who
answered London's unasked question.

"Elizabeth can have my room. I'll stay in
here with you, just in case."

"I don't want her alone," London argued.

Winking at me, Ashe put on his best leering
lecher voice and said, "I'll be glad to keep her company."

"I bet you would," London replied. He sounded
a little jealous, a little possessive, and he held me just a bit
tighter. "Adrian, do you mind staying with Em tonight?"

"It'll be torture,” Adrian teased, “but I
think I can handle it."

We all said our goodnights, London and I
kissed, and then I followed Adrian back to his room, wishing I had
taken the time to put on something more substantial than boxer
shorts and a camisole. Even the t-shirt and shorts ensemble I’d
been favoring the past few days would have been a little better.
There was something disturbing about crawling into bed half-naked
with a similarly half-clothed married man, even though there was no
attraction between us.

I lay curled with my back to him, trying to
relax enough to sleep. I failed. There were too many thoughts
whirling through my mind.

After what seemed like ages but couldn't have
been more than half an hour, Adrian sat up with a sigh. I guess
sleep wasn't working for him either. The bed shifted as he climbed
out of it, and I could hear him pad, catlike, across the room. I
heard some sounds I couldn't put a name to, and then music pushed
away the silence. These boys and their guitars. Not that I
minded.

Unlike the other guys, Adrian chose to sing
along with the songs he played, his voice low and dreamlike in the
dim closeness of the room. Just like earlier, his singing soothed
and comforted me, and the next thing I knew, I woke to daylight
filling the room. I'd slept, and slept well, with no more
nightmares. I wondered if London had fared as well.

Leaving Adrian to whatever dreams were making
him smile in his sleep, I crept out of the room, willing to take a
chance on waking London. I needed to see him.

I wasn't expecting anyone to be up and about,
but Kent stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his
luggage piled around him. He looked up as the door closed behind
me, his eyebrows shooting up.

"Not a word," I said.

He mimicked zipping his lips shut and gave me
a little smile. I answered it with a scowl and turned toward
London's room, only to turn around again at the sound of a door
opening. Brian stepped into the hallway, flashing me a broad smile.
I scowled at him, too, and he moved to hug me.

"What are you doing awake this early?" he
asked me.

"Sneaking out of Adrian's room," Kenny
answered.

"You and London fighting again?"

I shook my head. "It's a long story."

"You can fill me in later," Brian said,
shouldering one of Kenny's bags. "We've got to get going."

"You're not going alone are you?" I
asked.

"Quinn's meeting us in the lobby,” Kenny
explained. “He's bringing a friend, someone who's agreed to play
bodyguard for me. I was planning to go back with the rest of our
crew, but everyone thinks I’m too much of a target. They wanted
Jimmy to go with me, but he left earlier. He had the sudden urge to
get the hell out of the country.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised.” I hugged Brian
again. "Be careful. Both of you"

As they headed for the elevator, I knocked on
London's door. Ashe let me in, looking haggard. London sat with his
back against the headboard, arms around his knees and head down. He
forced his head up to look at me as I stepped into the room, and my
heart did a backflip. He looked like ninety miles of bad road.

"Was there another attack?"

London nodded, the simple gesture seeming to
take a great deal of effort.

"This one was worse than the first," Ashe
told me. "I don't know what London got out of it, but even the
second-hand effects were bad. It's been a long night."

I made a beeline for the bed, climbing up to
kneel beside London and wrap my arms around him. He sagged against
me, exhausted, and I stroked his tangled hair.

"You should try to rest," I murmured, but he
shook his head.

"Good luck," Ashe said. "I've been trying to
talk him down for the past hour. I'd say he's stubborn as a mule,
but that'd be an insult to the mule."

A knock on the door saved me from having to
conjure up a response. It was room service with a cart filled to
bursting with an array of breakfast comfort foods: French toast,
pancakes, eggs Benedict, bagels with cream cheese. The second the
scent hit me, I was ravenous.

Between us, Ashe and I convinced London to
eat. He seemed to think that if he shifted the tiniest bit of his
concentration away from his shields that they would fall, making
him vulnerable to another attack. I wasn't sure what that bitch had
done to him – and I was more and more certain that she was involved
somehow – but it had him rattled good and proper.

When he'd finished his breakfast and was
sipping on a second mug of coffee, Ashe informed us that we would
be checking out of the hotel in a few hours.

"Quinn's got connections everywhere," he
said, "and he's found us a place to stay. When he gets back from
his airport run, we'll head 'em up and move 'em out."