Gone With the Witch (25 page)

"The sounds are gone. I wish I could still hear your
baby crying, but all I can think about is Pepper, and all I can hear is ... silence.
A heavy silence."

"Maybe I don't have a baby?" Aiden scoffed. "Listen to me, talking like I'm sorry we're not chasing my phantom
baby." He took her hand and squeezed, which Storm appre
ciated. "Not that I believed you about my baby," Aiden
said. "Well, I did
start
to believe after you saved those two kids. But you did hear several crying babies before we got
here,
and now ... none?"

"I think some of them must have been echoes of me and
my sisters as babies."

"One of them might have been your own baby," he
added. "Don't you think that psychologically, you could have been looking for the baby you lost?"

"I can't believe I found ...
Pepper's
mother," Storm
said, ignoring Aiden's impromptu bit of psychoanalysis.

"One crying baby might have been Pepper," he sug
gested.

"One
might have been," she said, "but Pepper doesn't need rescuing. That girl can hold her own, and she's got a rich father to boot."

"You'd have to be able to hold your own with Marvelanne. Pepper probably learned her survival skills in the
cradle. 'I don't think she ever sees her father, though, do
you? What kind of father pays for two tonsillectomies without asking questions?"

"The kind who gets his secretary to write the checks is my guess." Storm looked over her sunglasses at Aiden, a puzzling question hovering,
an
d
then she lost it and shook her head. "Nah, I would have sensed it, if Pepper was in
trouble. This is me, remember? I sense the present.”

“
Do psychics get blocked?" Aiden asked.

"I suppose."

"Could a psychic get blocked by, say, a trauma like meeting 'the b
ri
de of the damned,' and learning she's her mother?"

Storm shrugged.

Aiden started the engine. "Want me to drive toward the campground where you started hearing multiple babies crying?"

"Sure. Where are you going?" she asked, because he zigged when he should have zagged.

"I'm taking a circuitous route through town to see if
Pepper pops up on your radar screen and maybe you can
get a reading. Let me know if the spirit of a child in trouble
moves you," he said.

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm thinking that maybe Pepper is too hardened to
c
ry
,
in which case, you wouldn't hear a cry for help.”

“
If
she needed help," Storm said.

"Absolutely," Aiden agreed. "Children in trouble
is
your
territory, not
mine."

"Look! There she is, the stinker," Storm said, sitting as
far forward as her seat belt would allow. "She bunked
school! Oh no, look, she spotted us, and she's running up the school steps." They watched her disappear into the
building. "That one's a survivor, mark my words. She's
fine. At least here, her father knows where to find her."

"Sure," Aiden said. "If he cares to"

Storm swiveled her seat his way. "
You going
soft, McCloud?"

"Lock your seat facing forward," he said. "Hey, if I see kids in need around every corner, it's your fault. You invited me on this ludicrous journey."

"I didn't invite you. I abducted you on this
prudent
journey. Give credit where credit's due"

"Hear any babies crying yet?" Aiden asked, finally taking

the
highway out of town. What was with him anyway? First
he hates that she hears babies
crying,
now he's trying to shove them down her throat.

"No more babies," she said, as disappointed as him,
which meant that he must have come to believe in her at
some point. That was cool.
A compliment, really.
"Maybe I
only heard a baby around you, because you were supposed
to be with me when 'I found my mother. I'm honestly glad you were."

"And when you met Pepper."

"Yeah.
Thanks for that." Storm smiled. "How old do
you think she is?"

"Eight or nine?"

"With that mouth?"

"Look who raised her."

"For money, no less."
Storm fisted a hand and sighed. "I'm not sure which of us was luckier."

"Storm?"
Aiden asked. "Do you think that Marvelanne is hard like you because she's hiding her pain, like you?"

"Don't go there. I do not want to feel sorry for that
woman. What do you mean,
hard
like me?"

"Vickie told me about the rebel
goth
with attitude who
first invaded her house, and I caught glimpses of you on the
wild side from time to time when you were fighting the castle ghost. You
can
be hard, Cartwright. Sharp, prickly, brash, bold, abrasive—"

"I get the freaking picture. I am
not
like Pepper's
mother. End of discussion. Do you want to go home?”

“
You mean, to
Salem?"

"That's right," Storm said, snapping her fingers. "You can't call anyplace home, can you?"

"Not if I can help
it."

"You even call your motor home a motor
coach,"
she pointed out.

"Because that's what it was called in the brochure. It's a coach. See the length, the styling. It's a luxury coach, and Morgan's unique design made it even more luxurious."

Storm knew Aiden was doing some hiding of his own,

but
maybe not the running away from responsibility kind, as she originally suspected. What he was hiding was the little boy inside him—to borrow his phraseology—nose pressed to the window, watching the happy family inside,
with no chance of getting in, so he shuns home, pretending
he doesn't want it.

"You know what I think," Storm said. "I think you want
a home so badly that while you wander, `home' is your unacknowledged destination. You never know where you're headed, but you're certain, deep, deep down, that eventu
ally, if you search long enough, you'll find a place that will
claim you."

"This, from somebody with a savior
complex.”

“
What complex?"

"You go around saving children because you were lost, and your child was lost, and you need to make it all up to the universe or something."

"I never saved a single child until we took this trip. So there"

"Well you're searching for
something,"
Aiden said. "Are you trying to find yourself?" he asked. "Or are you trying to find acceptance?"

"None of the above, thank you very much"

"In that case, you're either searching for the reason you were born or the reason you were tossed away."

Chapter Thirty-four

"I know who 'I am, though
you
confused me into thinking
that I needed more than myself for a while ... a little
while."

"You heard kids crying long before you met me,
Cartwright, but you chose to pin your hopes on a baby you
claim is mine. That was low and self-serving."

"Talk about self-centered. You car
ry
your house on your back, so you can escape into it, like you did the night of the
wedding."

"I was running from a nutcase who—"

"Saved two kids guided by the voices in her head"

Storm knew that in military school, Aiden must have
been taught to be regimented and not want frivolous
things, so in rebellion, he had a frivolously luxurious motor coach and was as far from regimented as a man could
get. "I shouldn't admit this," Storm said, "but we're fight
ing for nothing
. '
I think your Harley-riding nomadic
lifestyle and erratic work schedule match my
goth
trappings"

His smile nearly dissipated her ire.
"Your goth
costume."

"What's your point, Scruffleupagus?"

"You are so off the mark with me"

"I doubt it. You grew up in military school with King, right? So where were
your
parents?"

"Making money, giving it away
, defending
the down
trodden, feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless.
Flying their high-profile jet around the world, collecting camera crews and grateful spectators.
They were famous
do-gooders, hugging kids for publicity while I watched
them on TV from military school."

"Dragon's—"

Aiden whipped his gaze her way.

"Fire?
Can I say dragon fire?"

"Let's leave the dragon out of this."

"How come you can call me Snapdragon?"

Aiden gave her a cocky grin. "
Me
man.
You woman.
Man like his dragon snapped by woman. The visual pumps
me, ego and dragon.
Makes me proud."

Storm shook her head. "You're so shallow that being re
minded of your libidinous excellence gives you a euphoric
high, like getting shot with endorphins, minus the chocolate."

"Only better.
Wait, you think my libido is excellent? Want to pull over for a quickie?"

"I am so
not
turned on right now. Besides, I've gotta find
a new expletive. I understand your problem with the
gruesome bloody dragon picture—now that I know what
you keep in your shorts—but I'm getting the bends with
you pissin' me off and no comeback.

"Wait! I'll steal Harmony's favorite expletive. Wither
ing witch balls! Are you telling me that your parents are the
McClouds of the McCloud Foundation? You're filthy rich,
Scruffleupagus. Good cover, working for a living. Who'd a
thunk it? But I haven't heard about any of your parents'
stunts in a while. Wait. You
inherited
your nomadic lifestyle.
It's in your genes. Who'd a thunk that?"

"My parents were the opposites of turtles, believe me. If my mother worked in a casino, she'd have been a showgirl,

not
a cocktail waitress.
But nomads, oh yeah.
Hey, did I
distract you enough? Any babies crying in that head of
yours, yet?"

Storm shoved his arm for the ploy. "Where are your parents now?"

"I have no idea, but we're pretty sure they're dead. One minute their jet was a blip on the radar screen over the Peruvian jungle, and the next, nothing. Search parties looked for months before they gave
up "

"What happened to the foundation?"

"I've still got it. I car
ry
on their work."

"Without the fanfare?"

Aiden nodded. "I like it better that way."

"Do you have a desk in a big office building that's
attached to the ground somewhere?"

"Lots of them, but I haven't sat behind one in years.”