Firefight in Darkness (14 page)

“I don’t know how you did that.” Jax murmured bitterly as he climbed into the car and slipped the keys into the ignition. He reached in the backseat for his Stetson as she sat down beside him.

“Did what?” She beamed, still admiring her new gun.

“Manage to convince that demon not to kill you.” He began flipping through the radio stations, his hat hiding his eyes from her. “Your dad was the only other Dryad I’ve heard of who could actually make friends with demons and not get himself killed.”

“Really?” Pursing her lips, she sat back in her seat and stared out the window. “Once we got past the initial ‘ew, you’re creepy and disgusting’ stage, Lenny was a pretty cool guy. I’d do business with him again.”

Jax glanced up at her and grinned. “Especially the moment he saw that wad of cash you carry around with you. His eyes damn near bulged out of the sockets.”

One of her eyebrows cocked haughtily at his words. “I think it was my charming personality that won him over, not my money, thank you very much.”

“I’m sure it was, darlin’.” Finally settling on a radio station, he sat back and put the car in drive. “Rian’s grandfather said he spotted Dante by the airport. I want to head on over there and use the tracking devices and see if we come up with anything.”

“Okay. God, seriously? What is this crap?” She wrinkled her nose at the music coming out of the stereo. Beside her, Jax was busy beating his hands against the steering wheel in time to the beat.

“Waylon Jennings. And it’s not crap.” He glanced over at her dangerously, as if daring her to say it again.

Instead she just rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m surprised that the cowboy likes country music.”

“Lemme guess, you’re an N’sync girl yourself.”

He managed to catch a glimpse of the horror on her face before he had to watch the road again. God, it was entertaining to rile her up.

“Look here, country boy.” She began, turning in her seat to face him. “Give me the Stones, Joplin, and Hendrix, and you can refund the cheesy boy band.”

“I guess I could see a girl like you enjoying Woodstock.”

“Sure, though I’d have to pass on the drugs and the anonymous sex. The music’s enough of a high for me.” She grinned then as he chuckled, shaking his head. “So what’s your idea of a good time, cowboy?”

“Kickin’ back on my front porch after a long day, a beer in my hand and my dog at my feet, listening to the crickets and the coyotes as the sun sets over the horizon.”

Because she could picture it so clearly, could see him sitting on some porch with the damn beer and a big, yellow dog so vividly in her mind, she found herself momentarily at a loss for words. He was suddenly quiet, too, as if he was taking the time to build back up the wall that he had briefly let down for her.

She opened her mouth to ask him another question, only to have him interrupt her.

“Take a look at the radar, and call out if you spot anything.” He pulled out the device from his pocket and handed it to her as he pulled onto Van Buren street, where Rian’s grandfather had spotted Dante.

She took the device and immediately began scanning for both demon and Dryad, though her mind was elsewhere.

It was best that they refrain from getting too personal with each other, that much she knew. They had a business relationship, and a common goal. And his reluctance to share more about himself with her told her that he wanted to maintain a safe and comfortable distance.

That was just fine, she reassured herself. They had very little in common anyway. He was bossy, distant, and way more intelligent than she had given him credit for. And she was temperamental, blunt, and not nearly as smart as she’d given herself credit for.

No way in hell would the two of them ever really be friends. And it was a damn shame, she thought wistfully as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was so cute when he hummed along to that steel guitar.

♦ ♦ ♦

Because their search around the surrounding neighborhoods of the airport turned up nothing, and the continued search down the main strip of hotels and night clubs also turned up nothing, they decided to head back to the hotel room and regroup.

Blythe was starving, as they hadn’t even stopped for lunch and it was already nearing seven o’clock at night. Consequently, she had big plans for the vending machine just outside her room. Thinking about milky way bars and potato chips made her stomach grumble longingly as they walked the corridor towards their rooms.

“You should order a pizza while I tide myself over with a candy bar.” Blythe stopped at the vending machine and slipped in a few quarters, punching the buttons for the chocolate and watching it eagerly as it fell into the catch below.

“Alright, just don’t-“ Jax stopped mid-sentence as a small package resting in front of Blythe’s door caught his eye. He raced towards it and held it in his hands, already knowing they were too late. The bastard had slipped just out of reach, once again.

Biting into the candy bar, Blythe sauntered over and, noticing the package in his hands, felt her face drain of color.

“Is it from him?” She asked, already knowing the answer from the look on his face. He nodded and tossed the package to her.

“Might as well see what it says. I’ll be inside, ordering the damn pizza.” He left her and disappeared inside his own room, needing to vent his frustration in private.

Her hands trembled once as she fumbled to open the package, hope combating with the dread she felt. She pulled out the letter and began to read as she entered her room and shut the door behind her. She sat down bodily on the bed and laid back against the comforter as her eyes scanned Dante’s all too familiar handwriting.

Blythe,

Congratulations on making it to Phoenix, darling, but you are too late to find me. As you read this, I am no doubt on the road, thinking of you. I hope you enjoyed the necklace I gave you in Los Angeles. Perhaps when you see your newest gift, you will appreciate the necklace even more.

You look so much like her, it’s uncanny. There is very little of your disgusting Fate mother in you, and not much of my scumbag brother, either. No, you are like Bristol incarnate, darling. I love seeing her live on in you.

Though I won’t be seeing you this time, perhaps you will catch me at my next stop. I’ll be ‘stepping’ swiftly on down south, where a big river passes on its way to the sea.

With love,

Dante

She set the letter aside and reached in the package, pulling out a single, aged photograph. Despite all the anger, frustration, and bitterness she’d felt after reading her uncle’s letter, the moment she saw the photograph everything seemed to be consumed by this devastating emotion that tore through her until she felt raw and exposed. She sat up as her breath caught in her throat and her mind searched for any reasonable explanation other than what was absurdly obvious. The photo was of Bristol, her grandmother, and it was the first time she had ever seen the woman who had destroyed everything.

She was standing on the beach with the ocean at her back, clutching a straw hat against her mass of curly hair against the sea breeze. She was smiling brightly, her face glowing with youth and promise. Her bathing suit was a modest one piece, with the exception of a daring diamond cut around her navel. Despite the photo being black and white, Blythe knew her hair was the same wine red, her eyes the same gilded amber, her skin the same sunkissed ivory scattered with freckles. Dante had been right, the resemblance between her and her grandmother was uncanny.

If someone hadn’t scribbled Summer 1966 on the back, Blythe would have sworn she was looking at herself. Her grandmother would have been eighteen at the time of the photograph, which was only one year younger than she was. It disturbed her to see how vibrant and happy her grandmother had been all those years ago.

And around her neck hung the heirloom necklace, the amber stone catching the light.

♦ ♦ ♦

Jax stood in the blistering hot spray of water from the hotel shower and tried desperately to clear his mind.

He had almost let his frustration get the best of him at a time when he needed patience in order to complete his job. Thea was counting on him, and he hadn’t made his reputation by being careless and unreliable. No, he’d carved a niche for himself as a bounty hunter known for delivering fast and effective results. He was ruthless, unrelenting, and had an avid and quick mind.

So why in the hell did he feel like he was missing some important bit of information, some key to getting one step ahead of Dante?

Sure, the girl was a distraction of sorts, but he had a pretty good handle on how to deal with her by now. And it didn’t hurt that she was not only committed to their cause, but also an important link to Dante. The bastard was obsessed with her, that much was obvious. He wasn’t sure if she realized just how crazy her uncle was, but he could see it. And it disgusted him, down to the very core.

He’d seen the glaring possessiveness in Dante’s eyes when he had been watching Blythe in LA. Just as he’d stood by and watched as Dante had approached her, started dancing with her. She hadn’t even realized who he was, but Jax had known. And he hadn’t thought to stop it until the timing had been right and Dante nearly distracted enough for Jax to catch him. It hadn’t even occurred to him how she might feel afterward, because he hadn’t cared about her then. She had just been another person for him to catch and bring to Thea. So what was she to him now, if not a means to an end?

Nothing. She wasn’t anything to him; just a girl who was assisting him in the capture of a fugitive. He had to convince himself of that, and keep his head clear for the remainder of their journey together. A journey that unfortunately had no clear end in sight.

He toweled off and dressed before heading outside to knock on her door. It was time to read the newest letter, and figure out where the hell they were off to next.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected from her. Probably rage, frustration, and irritability. But what he saw on her face when she opened the door was unbridled vulnerability.

Her eyes were wide and blank, staring but not really seeing. Her face was pale and hollow looking; the same sharpness that gave her vitality just gave her a haunted look now. He saw her bottom lip tremble once as she handed him the letter.

“I’m going to take a shower.” She said numbly, her mind and body drained of all emotion at this point. All she wanted was to sink into nothingness for awhile. “Come on in, I won’t be too long.”

She turned around and disappeared into the bathroom. He shut the door at his back and wandered in to sit on her bed. Before he could sit, he noticed the photograph resting on the nightstand. His heart sunk as he picked it up.

No wonder she was upset, he thought glumly as he examined Bristol’s image.

The granddaughter was a spitting image of the grandmother. Even the eyes…if he hadn’t known better, he’d swear those were Blythe’s eyes. But they weren’t, and this wasn’t Blythe. This was a woman who was dead now, who had posed for this photo decades before Blythe or himself had been born.

He felt a hatred building inside of him as it occurred to him what Dante was trying to do. He was using his dead mother to not only lure Blythe to him, but to hurt her so deeply that she would never be the same again. She had already gone through enough on account of her father’s carelessness, and now Dante was trying to use a dead woman to damage her even further.

Furious now, he contemplated tearing up the photograph, only to think twice. Knowing her, she would want the honor of tearing it to pieces herself if she saw fit. And the fact that she hadn’t done so meant that she had decided not to. He knew it wasn’t his place to interfere, so he set the photo aside and proceeded to read the letter.

Blythe felt like she was cleansing herself, not only physically but spiritually. She wasn’t going to let Dante get to her this way, not ever again. She knew what her grandmother had done, and seeing some old photograph of her looking young and happy didn’t change anything. She still screwed up, and was selfish enough not to care about anyone but herself.

There was no reason to feel this aching sense of loss, none at all. Bristol was already dead, so there was no pressure to try and reconnect. It was all just some disgusting game that Dante was playing. Well, she wasn’t going to play along.

Feeling marginally better, she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself up in a towel, realizing suddenly that she had left her clothes in her duffle bag by the bed. Tucking the towel around herself tighter, she stepped out into the room where Jax was still busy pouring over the letter.

At his side were two boxes of pizza.

“My hero.” She smiled fondly at him as she walked over, not noticing the surprise that flashed over his face at seeing her in nothing but a fluffy white towel, her damp hair grazing the freckled skin of her shoulders.

She opened the top box and lifted out a slice of pepperoni pizza, biting off the tip indulgently. Her ravaged stomach begged for more as she took another bite, all but purring in satisfaction.

“You feeling better?” He watched as she polished off the first slice and immediately reached for a second.

“Much. So where do you think he’s going now?” She asked as she chewed. He noticed with relief that the color had returned to her cheeks.

“I’m not sure.” He paused, weighing whether or not he wanted to ask her about the photograph. She saved him the trouble.

“Did you see my newest present?” She asked drily, motioning to the photograph. He could tell she was trying to not let it bother her, but it was still there, lingering in her eyes.

“I did.” She saw his pity, but she also saw his outrage. Knowing he understood what that picture meant to her brought her an odd sense of relief. “You look like her.”

“Yeah, I do.” She murmured, her eyes still glued to his. “But it doesn’t change anything. She’s the reason we’re here, Jax. It’s because of her that Dante exists, and just because some stupid photograph shows our obvious relation doesn’t mean I’m going to forget what she’s done.”