Lost Causes (6 page)

While Vivian worked, the rest of us grabbed supplies from the Airstream and camper and loaded up the school bus with several duffel bags. We’d already been traveling light. Now we aimed for spartan.

Miriam shoved a cooler under the dashboard. It was filled with sandwiches and fruit and, if I knew Miriam, several six-packs of beer. I didn’t argue. We all had our own definition of “necessities.”

“Hide the vehicles over there.” I pointed. “The Airstream can fit between the moving truck and the pile of… whatever those are. If we pull some sheet metal around it, it can stay hidden for a bit.”

“No.” Mac was certain.

“We have to,” I began. “It’s your home, but…”

“No,” he repeated. “They’ve already seen where we are, so they’ll expect us to switch vehicles. We need to prove them wrong.”

“We’ll do it.” Carmichael called over his shoulder to Vivian. “Give us ten minutes before you shut them down.”

“We’re setting a false trail,” Mac explained, loud enough for all to hear. “Maybe they’ll buy it, maybe they won’t, but they’ll at least need to follow the Bronco to be sure we’re not in it.”

“Good thinking, bear.” Miriam tossed the Bronco’s keys to Johnson. He caught them one-handed.

I was less certain. “We split up, we’re less powerful,” I argued. “And these two will be sitting ducks. Sorry, guys.”

Carmichael wasn’t offended. He’d seen what elementals could do. “And if they do catch us, we’re humans and FBI agents. Agents who check in regularly with our higher-ups. If we disappear, the Bureau will want to learn why. From what you’ve told us, elementals avoid anything that could draw the attention of human authorities.”

“If the agents return to Tahoe, they would be in a better position to protect our friends,” Simon pointed out. “Even if those friends do not trust humans. Or the FBI. And they may remember that Carmichael almost killed Mac.”

“No, they should go.” I wished that wasn’t true. “Give us a few minutes to grab some items.”

Vivian’s face was strained. “I can’t hold the connection very long.”

In the end, there were no long goodbyes. There were a few handshakes, an overly enthusiastic hug from Miriam for Johnson, and a complicated look between Carmichael and Sera. Carmichael drove the camper van, while Johnson took the Bronco and Airstream. The men adjusted their seats and mirrors, waved goodbye, and pulled out of the junkyard. We saw them turn north, and then they were gone.

Vivian waited long enough for them to hit the highway, then sent the alert that would have our nation’s primary security agency scrambling to shut down the elementals’ connection. If we were really lucky, they’d also find themselves being interrogated for several days in a windowless room.

Vivian stood, stretching her muscles for the first time since we arrived at the junkyard. “They may find another connection, but we’ll be far away by then.” Her satisfied smile lasted only so long as it took her computer to emit a single loud beep.

“No no no,” she whispered, crouching by the machine. “No.”

We’d thought she was panicked before. We were wrong.

Her movements were both tiny and frantic. Eyes scanned the screen left to right while her fingers flew across the keys. Windows opened and closed as Vivian typed commands in a language none of us knew. It only took a few minutes, but Vivian grew more desperate with every passing second. When she finally sat back, she looked as exhausted as any marathon runner. Worse, she looked ashamed.

“I’m sorry. I should have seen it.”

We all worked very hard not to rush her in any way.

Well, most of us did. “Vivian, you’re killing us,” I said.

She forced herself to meet my gaze. “The picture, the satellite map, it was all a distraction. While I was working on shutting it down, they snuck in and burnt through my encryption in minutes. I don’t know how. They downloaded Josiah’s files.”

I could practically feel the group fight against despair—and lose. Those files had been guiding most of our movements since we escaped my family’s island.

“All of them?” Sera’s voice was quiet, but she practically vibrated with agitation.

“I stopped the transfer before they got it all, but they grabbed a lot. I can’t even say what files they found. I haven’t read all of it yet, because I was focused on finding Luke.” She met his gaze. “If they didn’t know about another dual before, they do now.”

At most, Luke appeared mildly chagrined, and even that passed. “Well, I’ve already been running quite a while. Least this time I’ll have company.” He shrugged and stepped onto the bus.

Miriam followed. She crouched beneath the steering wheel, smacked the dash in a carefully chosen spot, and pulled out several wires. She peeled off their casings with a pocket knife.

The motor stuttered several times, but at last it roared to life. Well, whimpered to life.

“We’ll need to stop for gas at the first station,” Miriam called. “Right now we don’t have enough to get us to… where the hell are we going, cowboy?”

He directed his answer to me. “Someplace you don’t want to go. You’re sure you have no other choice?”

I was sure.

“The good news is we’re heading somewhere that probably isn’t in any of those files. The bad news is we’re going someplace so awful you might prefer to meet the council again.”

CHAPTER 7

W
e drove until sunset, retracing our steps through the largely uninhabited land along the Arizona-Utah border.

Luke rode in front of us. His ride was a lot sweeter than ours, but I didn’t mind. It seemed like a good idea to keep him and Mac at least a hundred feet apart until Mac recovered from his unexpected case of the alpha males.

We’d passed Monument Valley but not yet reached the rich water of Lake Powell when we stopped for the night.

The little-used campground had a lake, of sorts, a pool of stagnant water surrounded by low red hills anemically populated with thin trees.

No one spoke much while we set up camp. I tried once more to broach the subject of a cure with Luke, but he shook his head.

“Tomorrow,” he told me. “I’ll give you what I know tomorrow.”

For now, that had to be good enough.

It had been a stressful couple of days, and we all needed to recharge. Vivian hadn’t touched her computer since we left the junkyard, and I feared she was approaching a catatonic state after being out-hacked. She spent hours flat against the red earth, trying to soak up power from the unfamiliar source.

Miriam had her clothes off even before she exited the bus, and soon a Tahoe river otter was swimming in an Arizona desert lake.

Mac took off, needing the space to roam. He didn’t like changing in unfamiliar areas, particularly those with a high rate of gun ownership among the population, but shifters had to change. He headed into the spindly trees. I doubted he’d be gone long.

Sera and Luke started a fire, then plunged their hands into its core. I didn’t actively reach toward it, but I felt myself strengthen from proximity to the flames.

Simon had spent most of the drive sleeping on duffle bags in the rear of the bus. He woke up long enough to move toward the fire’s warmth before settling down for another nap.

I sat in the water, listening to the camp sounds behind me lessen and eventually cease as the others fell asleep. Soon after, a warm bear nose nudged my shoulder and I crawled onto the shore to join him. There was no reason to make up a bed. Mac would be a far better mattress than a lumpy pile of blankets.

Mac shifted in the dark and pulled on a thin pair of sweatpants. He wrapped his arms around me, drawing me close, and I rested my head against his chest. Spending hours as a bear made him feel more at home in his own skin, but he wasn’t finished. As we lay together, I pulled on the lake water and sent its power along the connection we shared. We didn’t need to consciously reach for the other for his magic to feed, but I enjoyed exploring the bond. I loved feeling the water heal the day’s aches and pains, but that was a prelude to the main event, when the magic repaired all the aging Mac had done that day. So long as Mac had access to my power, he had access to my longevity, and in those moments I could pretend we’d have centuries together.

We fell asleep, finding something close to safety in each other’s arms.

I woke gasping, images of flames still dancing behind my eyes and David’s screams echoing in my ears. I must not have cried out. Mac still slept, facedown in the dirt. One arm was draped across my side, the hand curling around my waist.

I inched away, careful not to disturb him. He grumbled once and turned over, but he didn’t wake.

I slipped on my shoes, rose to my feet and began running, moving beyond the camp radius before anyone could spot me, then I picked up the pace. My legs pounded against the earth as I bolted across the desert, putting miles between myself and the others. Hell, putting distance between me and the rest of the world. If I had a spaceship, I probably would have used that instead.

My whole life, I’d hated exercise, but my fire side felt differently. It demanded movement. I told no one about this change. I snuck in my runs and push-ups when I was alone. If my friends heard I now craved physical activity, they’d probably assume I’d already gone off the deep end. I tugged on my t-shirt, hoping the sleeves were long enough to hide my newly discovered biceps.

At last, I drew to a stop and bent over, hands braced on my knees as I gasped for breath. There was no water to access here. I couldn’t speed the healing, so I had to do it the old-fashioned human way.

A fire appeared two feet from me. “Use that,” Luke said.

I didn’t need to be told. I was already gobbling its power. “You’re up early.” Not even a strip of light shone on the horizon.

“I wanted to grab you before the others woke up. I’d like to show you something.”

I raised an eyebrow and, with great effort, didn’t make an inappropriate remark. “What?”

Luke dangled the keys to his bike. “My past.”

“I’m still not sure what we’re doing here.” I meant to sound annoyed, but as I was holding a cup of actual black tea laced with half-and-half, it came out sounding deeply grateful.

We sat in a diner on the main street of one of those towns you’d miss if you closed your eyes for twenty seconds while driving through. It was about forty-five minutes south of the campsite where we’d spent the night.

Luke had claimed a booth next to the front windows. The street had everything you could need, so long as you didn’t want many choices. It wasn’t a wealthy town, and I suspected it scraped by on money from the tourists driving to and from the Grand Canyon. It was the kind of place filled with people who worked full days and woke up early, even on weekends. Though it was barely six-thirty, stores were already opening, the town coming to life.

After the last few days, it felt like the height of civilization. This was my favorite sort of diner, a place where the coffee cups were always full and the pancakes were the size of your head. Once I confirmed Luke was paying, I ordered two plates.

Luke stared out the window, like he had since we arrived. He hadn’t flirted with me once. “I used to live here. About twenty minutes east, cause town was a little too busy for me, but I’d come in often enough to do my shopping or see a movie.”

I tried hard to stay quiet, figuring he would tell the story in his own time. I started fidgeting after thirty seconds. “And what, you craved some hash browns this morning?”

“This isn’t a breakfast date, Aidan, though I suppose you already figured that out. We both know it’s not like that between us. Still, no reason to tell your boyfriend that. I know you aren’t supposed to poke an angry bear, but he just makes it too easy.” He winked at me, then went back to staring out the window.

I tried pulling his attention to the matter at hand. “So, about that cure…”

“Right there.” Luke placed his left index finger against the window. The touch was gentle, almost loving, as if he feared breaking the glass. “That was my reason for living here.”

I followed his gaze. Across the street, a slim elderly woman walked down the sidewalk. Her white hair was thin and wispy, and her face was marked with the wrinkles of a long life.

She took care with each step, but her spine was straight and she didn’t use a cane or walker. The sign on the building behind her proclaimed it an elder care facility, and I assumed she’d stepped out of their front door. I hadn’t been paying attention, but Luke clearly had.

“How long ago did you live here?”

“Fifty-six years, eight months.” He glanced away from the older woman, and I thought it pained him to tear his eyes from her for even a few moments. “Sixteen days.”

For once, I had nothing to say, and I waited.

When he began to talk, his voice sounded distant, as if he spoke from another place—or another time. “Nora and I, we had one of those relationships. You know the kind. Loud fights, loud making up. She drove me crazy, and I was crazy about her. I think it was mutual, too, but I let all the bullshit get in my mind sometimes. I drank more than I should some nights. Lot of people did back then, so I thought it was okay. One night, I’d had a little too much of a bottle of rye, and I started wondering where Nora was. She was out later than she said she’d be. I got to thinking she was with another guy. Some human guy who didn’t have to keep secrets like I did. At the time, I only knew I was half desert, but that was plenty. She didn’t understand why I wouldn’t drive to the ocean or why I refused to take her on a cruise.”

The words grew strained as they fought past the lump in his throat. He drank coffee until his voice was steady again. “Anyway, that night I sat on the couch, waiting for her to come home, and I was drinking and getting angry, and the more I drank, the angrier I got.”

Nora stepped into a convenience store on the corner, completely unaware of the man across from me and the effect she had on him.

“She goes to that store every day for the newspaper. Refuses to get a subscription. Nora says delivery is for old people who can’t walk a hundred feet to get the news. On Sundays, she buys an apple danish, too.”

“How often do you come here?” I swallowed a bite of pancakes and barely tasted them.

“Whenever I need to remember.”

The door swung open and Nora stepped back into the street, newspaper tucked under her arm. I could see the side of her face that had been hidden before.

My fork clattered against the plate.

The left side of Nora’s face was deformed. Thick scars ran from her temple to her chin. They pulled at the corners of her eyes and mouth, tilting both down so that she appeared perpetually sad.

Luke’s eyes remained locked on the woman. “Maybe if I was a human, we would have thrown some dishes, said some ugly things, and been done with it. As heated as we got, I didn’t lay a hand on her. I’d never do that. But that dual nature had other plans. I hadn’t known what I was until I was burning our house down around us. The ceiling fell on her and crushed her legs. She begged me for help, and I only watched her, trying to think past the haze of alcohol and magic. I couldn’t remember who I was for a couple minutes, and that was too long. Her legs were broken. That’s all it took for her to be disfigured for life.”

Nora returned to the elder care building. Luke continued to gaze at the closed door, perhaps finding his way back to the present. When he turned to me, his eyes were wet, and he made no effort to hide it. “I did that, Aidan. I did that to the woman I love.”

“I’m so sorry.” I knew the words were inadequate, but I hoped he understood how much I meant them.

“Yeah, well. Now you know.” He gulped his coffee, now lukewarm, then threw two twenties on the table, far more than the meal cost. Luke strode to the front door and held it open for me. “Let’s get out of here.”

We’d parked behind the diner. Luke glanced over his shoulder twice as we left, but he didn’t mention Nora again.

In the parking lot, he jumped up and down, like he was trying to shake off memories that would never leave. “I’m sure you can guess I don’t show that to many others. You’re the first person I told cause you have to understand. Nora is why I needed the cure. What I did to her, that broke me, and I think I would have given in to madness rather than live with what I’d done. I didn’t even go looking for the cure, didn’t know it existed, but it was a damn good thing it found me. I would have done some terrible things without it. But the cure itself, Aidan… it’s awful. After Nora, it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. It’s gonna be awful for you, too, more than I can ever explain. So, are you absolutely sure you can’t function anymore? Cause if it’s not too bad, maybe I can help you control it.”

“I killed a man.” I saw no need to sugarcoat it.

“Any chance he deserved it?” Luke looked almost hopeful.

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.”

“There were others, too.” The story came pouring out, the dam broken. “Times I would have killed, but someone interrupted. They wouldn’t have deserved it either. One was self-defense, but maybe I could have stopped him some other way. I didn’t even try. It’s getting worse, Luke. The madness is winning.”

He gazed up at the cloudless sky, deciding. “All right, Aidan Brook. I’ll help you upend your entire life if that’s what you want.”

“You’re a little late for that.”

“It’s dangerous.”

I snorted. Given what my life had become, I couldn’t even pretend to take him seriously.

We reached the bike. Luke chucked the spare helmet to me with a little too much force. “Do I look like a wimp to you? I’m not scared of a lot, so trust me when I say it’s risky as hell.”

I didn’t pat his head in a condescending manner. I considered that a win. “Over the last few months, I’ve dealt with a homicidal dual magic determined to make me his love slave and brood mare and a shifter doing her best to kick off a magical race war in Lake Tahoe. My house has been firebombed and someone sent the car I was in rocketing over the side of a mountain. I’ve seen people suffocate, burn, and outright explode, so unless the solution to my madness involves me being shot from a cannon through a ring of acid and landing in a pit of tarantulas, I’m telling you this: fucking bring it.”

He sat on the bike and watched me a little too intently. “You need a first magic.”

I’m sure he expected a reaction. I’d give him one, as soon as I got over my shock. “A what?” I managed.

He didn’t repeat himself.

“You mean… the creatures born from the earth’s original magic? The ones from whom all elementals and shifters are descended?”

He raised both eyebrows and waited for me to believe him. It was going to take a while.

“They don’t exist anymore. Okay, there were a few rumors, but people claim to spot Elvis more often than elementals talk of the first magics.”

“There were rumors about shifters. How did that turn out?”

“That’s different. That was more of a deliberate lie told by the old ones who hoped, if they repeated it often enough, it would become true. If part of our creation myth was still walking the earth, someone would have said something.” I shook my head, ready to believe that Luke was insane after all. Except, instead of being homicidal, he now believed in fairies and unicorns. “You’re talking about the first creatures in all of existence. They’re pure magic.” I emphasized the last two words, not sure he understood what he was saying.