Cool Hand (33 page)

Then she gunned the engine and dropped the clutch.

The wheels spun and kicked up more dust over the junction. Enough to blind the driver of the second SUV, foot on the gas, engine racing as he struggled to catch up.

They shot out of the dust, saw the crashed SUV, me and the shotgun, all at the same time.

The driver hit the brakes hard. Anti-skid locked in, sounding like a machine gun going off, but it was too little, too late. I had time to fire one shot through the side window into the cab and then the second SUV hammered into the back of the first.

It struck at an angle, flipping itself over onto its back.

I didn’t wait and I didn’t waste any more shells. They weren’t chasing us anymore, and that was good enough for me. I was back in the Hill Bitch and away before the second SUV had stopped rocking.

Heart thudding, lungs struggling. Everything seemed so clear and yet far away at the same time.

My hands were automatically fumbling with the seat belt. Buckle up. Be safe.

I started laughing.
Be safe.

Tullah’s worried look was like having cold water thrown over me.

Shit, shit, shit. Get it back together.

I closed my eyes and waited till the heartrate fell to a more normal range.

Haul it back. Haul it back.
Forget buckling the seatbelt.

Now to act normally.

I turned in the seat and leaned over the back, forced myself to speak calmly. “You can come out. Are you okay?”

Savannah and Claude crawled out of the footwells, trembling and pale as ghosts.

Savannah had busted her lip on the seat when she’d stuck her head up.

She put her arms around Claude and they huddled on the back seat, not looking at me.

Any bridges I’d built last night hadn’t survived.

Tullah drove on a little, then took a couple of turns and pulled off the road to park by a stand of trees that gave us good cover.

“Boss,” she said, her voice strained, “we need to talk.”

We got out.

The sun shone, but there was a chill wind out of the north. We walked a few paces, out of earshot.

“What the hell was that?” she said in a low voice.

I blinked.

I’d saved us, hadn’t I?

Kaothos seeped into my mind.

Look, Amber Farrell
, she said.

She unraveled the view from Tullah and Savannah. I didn’t recognize the woman laughing and screaming and throwing the Hill Bitch around. The woman running at an SUV armed with a shotgun and a bucket of crazy.

She scared
me
. God knows what the others had felt.

I was completely losing it. The worst part was it hadn’t
seemed
that crazy while it was happening. How long before I didn’t come back from an episode like this?

“It’s crusis mania, isn’t it?” Tullah said. “Bian warned me it might get this bad. One minute you’re worried and second guessing yourself, the next you think you’re invincible.”

I took some slow, deep breaths.

She was right.

I guessed, I
hoped
, I had time still. Just. I could find Diana. I could. As long as it was in the next day or so. If not, Kaothos would have to knock me out and keep me that way.

We returned to the Hill Bitch.

“I’m gonna get you guys out of here,” I said to Savannah and Claude. Their relief was obvious.

I called Pia on the encrypting cellphone. She understood what we needed immediately.

“We’re all ready,” she said. “I’m sending coordinates back in a text. Meet us there.”

“Okay.” My House seemed to be on top of this. Maybe Victor was coming down in a helicopter. That’d be great. Savannah and her brother could be safe in Denver in a few hours.

“Do we have a direct number for Skylur?” I asked. I couldn’t put off reporting what had happened now. But anything to not have to speak to Naryn.

“No. Amber, don’t call anyone until we get there. I’m getting us underway now. I’ll give an ETA by text.”

The connection went dead.

She’d cut it off without giving me time for any news. Nothing about Jen.

A cold feeling settled in my stomach and the last of the adrenaline high leaked away like air from a punctured balloon.

The coordinates Pia had sent led us to a private airfield on somebody’s ranch. Another old friend of Victor Gayle’s, I guessed. The place was empty; just a half mile of packed dirt strip, a tired windsock and a barn.

Even in my post-mania brain fog, I knew the ETA they’d given us was too short—just ninety minutes after we’d spoken. The distance to Denver was around 300 miles. Even the best army helicopters couldn’t fly that quickly. So, either a mistake—which was unlikely—or it wasn’t Victor flying them down in a helicopter. This wasn’t an airfield with facilities; I hoped whoever was flying knew what they were doing.

I alternated between worrying about that, about Jen, and about my latest manic episode. And despairing that I hadn’t been a few hours earlier at Sycamore Ranch.

I’d gotten out of the Hill Bitch and I was fretching. That’s what Mom had always called it when Kath did it. Fretching was fretting and twitching rolled into one. I’d never done it as a child or teen, but I was sure fretching now.

Where had they taken Diana?

Could I have rescued her, if we hadn’t stopped to get some sleep?

And if the mania got so bad that Kaothos knocked me out now, or Naryn ordered me back to Denver, who was there to help Diana?

I had ‘proof’ that Diana was a captive—Tullah’s analysis of the working at the ranch. Would House Altau believe an Adept about that? If they did, would they take over the mission? Would that be better for Diana’s chances than me and my team, or worse?

And in the same way Athanate could help a human heal, would an Athanate be able to help Olivia survive? Would Bian do it for me? Could Pia or Yelena?

The cellphone beeped at me—a caller I didn’t recognize.

This couldn’t be good. Other than my House, only Dominé had this number.

It turned out she’d given it to Zane. This
really
couldn’t be good.

“You have a problem,” he said without preamble.

No kidding.

“Yeah, like Amaral’s people wiping out House Romero and leaving them for the vultures?” I said.

“Yes.”

“Then trying to come back and catch us at Jaworski’s ranch.”
Oh, my God. Zane sent us there. He can see where this cell is. What if he…

No. No. I couldn’t have misread his hatred of all House Romero, Amaral included. I fought my paranoia to focus on what he was saying.

“I guess that didn’t turn out the way they expected,” he said. “Look, I’m sorry we didn’t pick up on that. We’re only tapping into their comms here in Albuquerque. We’re not getting the whole—”

“My colleague, Diana, was there before the attack,” I cut him off. Too bad if he was offended, but I was still riding a shitstorm of conflicting emotions from my wolf and Athanate. “You have any news on her?”

“That’s why I’m calling,” he said.

He
was
offended. I could almost feel him try to squeeze his dominance down the connection.

Suck it up, Zane. I’m not your bitch.

“Turns out Amaral pulled out of Albuquerque completely last night,” he went on. “Seems like he diverted to kill Romero and collect your friend.”

So Amaral did have Diana. What the hell did he want with her?

“So where’s he gone? Santa Fe?”

“No. He wouldn’t dare.”

Ah, yes. With the association between the Albuquerque and Santa Fe Were, Amaral wouldn’t risk going anywhere near there.

“Well, where else would he go? Another city? You knew Jaworski had a secret hideout—what about Amaral?”

“I’m giving you what I’ve got, Farrell.” Now he was really starting to get annoyed with me. “All I know is he headed north. I don’t know what his alternatives are up there. It’s not my territory.”

“It’s this guy Half-head’s territory?”

His grunt confirmed it.

Great. A whole new Were to deal with, and with me firing on half my cylinders.

“That’s the other thing,” he said. “You need to go in to meet the alpha in Santa Fe.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Half-head, you mean? If Amaral’s not there, why would I want to go into Santa Fe territory?”

“You’re already in their territory.”

Damn. I hadn’t even thought about that when Pia was picking out landing places. Were territory. Athanate territory. It was impossible to keep it all straight.

“So, my ‘needing’ to go—is that an invitation?”

“For now,” Zane said.

I didn’t have time to mess around with alpha games. “To do what?” I asked, exasperated. “He wants to grab a coffee and exchange life stories? Or he has information for me?”

Zane snorted. “I
strongly
recommend accepting, while it’s still an invitation. Anyway, the Santa Fe Were will know where Amaral is heading.”

I had no other leads, but I was getting wary of sticking my head on the block.

“An invitation means safe passage?”

“Take no violence into Santa Fe and you should be safe,” Zane said. “At least, until you open your mouth.”
Funny guy
. “There’s an art gallery in the Railyard Park; be there alone at 4 p.m. No cellphone, no electronics. Someone will contact you with instructions. And for your information, the name’s Cameron, not Half-head.”

“Should I wear a pink carnation?” my throat demon said, but the line had gone dead.

Tullah looked at me questioningly.

“We have a lead on Diana. Maybe. The problem is, to get it, I gotta go see the Santa Fe alpha.”

“Both of us?” Tullah said, and I shook my head.

“You need me,” she said. “And Kaothos. You’re barely holding it together.”

“I’m fine,” I said, though we both knew I wasn’t. “Anyway, he was very clear. Can’t risk ignoring his instructions.”

Tullah pressed her lips together. She wasn’t happy, but there was nothing either of us could do.

I ran a hand across my face. “We also have a problem with the Hill Bitch. We have to assume Amaral now knows what she looks like. From what Zane was saying, we’ll be safe enough in Santa Fe, but afterwards we’ll need to head wherever Diana has been taken.”

“We could rent a car.”

“No. We’d need a license and credit card for that. Someone could be watching. Unless you have a good set of fakes.”

Tullah frowned in thought. “Victor has contacts down here who may be able to help. I’ll call.”

She took her cellphone out and started scrolling through her lists.

My wolf ears caught the sound of an incoming aircraft and I tensed. It was just a dot in the sky, and it
should
be our side. But using the cell
could
have given our position away to Amaral.

Trust no one
, hissed Ben-Haim in my head.

My cell rang again. Pia. Short and tense. “We’re on the approach. Is it all clear?”

“Yup,” I said. “Keep a lookout as you come in, though; you have a wider view from up there.”

I turned to face north. I could see it more clearly now: a long-nosed turbo-prop. The sort of plane that could make the trip from Denver in an hour.

As it swooped closer, I recognized the type—a Pilatus. I’d only ever seen them at a distance; it was the kind of plane you saw at small airports being chartered by millionaires. No way I could afford this, so it had to be something that Jen had set up.

It was going to look like a Ferrari in a farmyard out here.

Whoever was flying it knew his business. There was a smoothness about the approach that told me the pilot was probably ex-forces, with thousands of flying hours behind him.

A rock-steady descent ended with the main wheels touching right at the start of the landing strip. This might be the first time this plane had ever landed on dirt instead of tarmac, but the pilot made everything look routine. He used about three quarters of the strip and then backtracked to park in the open area next to the barn.

The pilot went through shutdown procedures, and finally the door cracked open.

I was already trotting toward it.

Jen was the first one out.

My heart lurched.

She’d had her hair done, and she was wearing a suit like she was going to an important meeting. She’d once said to me it was like putting on armor before a battle—a way to hide your vulnerabilities. She’d gone for the whole thing—the clothes, makeup, sunglasses. A scarf. I missed a step and almost stumbled.

A damned scarf to hide the marks on her neck.

Naryn. The bastard. I was going to kill him.

I sprinted up to her and grabbed her in a hug. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. This was all my fault. If I hadn’t left her to come down here, I’d have found a way to prevent this.

She kissed me and immediately pulled back.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

She’s trying to be cool about it for my sake.

“Naryn. I’ll kill him,” I said through clenched teeth.

“What? Oh, God, I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This scarf isn’t hiding anything.” She yanked it off. “Look, no bites.”

“I thought…the clothes…the scarf.”

She shook her head and buried her face against my neck.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot,” she said again, the words muffled. “I just wanted to look good for you.”

Pia and Nick had come down the steps, and I could feel that Pia was unhappy. Worse than that: she was tense as a bowstring.

“Take a minute,” she said, attempting a smile. “Then we need to talk urgently.” She looked over at Tullah and the others. “I’ll go greet our refugees.”

She walked off. Nick gave my shoulder an awkward pat and followed her.

“What the hell?” I frowned and then shook it off. “First things first. What happened to you?”

“Bian worked it all out with Vera,” Jen said.

“Huh?” I said. The relief was obviously making me good with words.

“Naryn asked for kin from House Farrell.” Jen raised her head. “Vera said she should be the one. She was due for an Athanate health checkup anyway, and as far as she was concerned, if Naryn wanted Blood in exchange, she thought it was a good deal.”

I made a mental note to thank Vera.

Then the truth dawned on me.

“So, it was Bian—”

“Bian nothing, honey.” Jen kissed me lightly. “Yes, I got to see the leopard’s den, with the bed the size of a football field and the infamous black silk sheets.”

Despite everything, I couldn’t help a faint grin at that picture.

Jen continued: “Bian gave me a hug and told me to take a nap for a couple of hours while she was working on finding out how much damage Marlon did to their security files.”

“If it wasn’t you telling me, I wouldn’t believe it.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s why I had to come down here.”

“What about Blood for Bian?”

Jen laughed.

“She has contacts with the fake vampire groups in Denver. They’re so into it, they’ve persuaded themselves they need blood. They always have supplies—bags of blood.”

It would have been nice if Bian had told me that before I left.

“That works?”

“Only if it’s fresh—a couple of days,” she said. “She did tell me the sensation—you know, the cold blood going through the channels—she said that was awful, but she’d be okay for another week. Normally, I guess Altau would have their own backup supplies, but this emergency has caught everyone by surprise.”

I was almost sagging with relief. “And Vera?” I asked.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Jen said. “Naryn’s a jerk, not a monster. He wasn’t out to get us.”

I’d reserve judgment on that.

Maybe I’d completely overreacted, and maybe being in Denver myself would have made it worse.

“Pia said he was emphasizing the Athanate obligations of Farrell to Altau,” Jen said. “Apparently, that’s normal.”

Yeah.

I squashed that.

“You’re all amazing,” I said. One load put aside. “Any news of Olivia?”

“No change,” Jen sighed. “Okay at the moment.”

Yelena stepped down from the plane, and I knew she was the last person out.

Ahh. So my House has a hotshot Carpathian pilot.

My Athanate purred with pleasure.

Yelena joined Jen and me in the hug. We did the Athanate neck kiss and I felt a second thrill: Yelena’s marque was almost perfectly House Farrell.

“Mistress,” she murmured. Her eukori seemed to show contentment, but tinged with a nervousness toward me. At least she wasn’t upset like Pia.

What had happened to upset Pia so much? Was Yelena the source of the problem?

“Dancing Girl,” I teased her.

Yelena laughed and turned to join the other group.

Jen kissed my neck, obviously feeling left out of the Athanate greeting rituals.

Suddenly, I felt warm. And my jaw pulsed, catching me off guard.