American Quest (38 page)

“Got ’em,” Jamie said, handing them to Bruce. Bruce put them on absently while he continued to watch Emily and Bedelia. The girl wrapped her arms around Bedelia’s waist and said, “Love you, Bea.”

“Love you, too,” Bedelia said, kissing the top of the girl’s head. Bedelia caught Bruce’s gaze and saw the heaviness in her eyes. He wanted to ask her what was going on, but before he could say anything, Bedelia said, “Don’t we need to get moving?”

Everyone darted around the hospital room, gathering Bruce’s things. Bruce yanked the IV from his wrist, setting off a hospital alarm.

“That’ll expedite the checkout process,” Bedelia said. She looked at Bruce again and winked. “It’s time to get out of here.”

Bruce’s stomach coursed with a rush that spread all the way to his fingertips. Yes, it was time to get out of here and get back to New York. He not only knew where to find Gloria, but he had the weapons he needed to face the Macul.

And he was so very, very ready.

“THE COMPANY KNOWS WHAT THEY HAVE. The van now takes a northeastern path.”

Enervata frowned, looking toward Hedon and then back to Isolde. “I thought they were going to California. What happened to the fortune-teller?”

“The young man Bruce had guessed his plans. He killed him with his own two hands.”

“Bruce
killed
him? He has managed to gather enough power to overcome one of our agents?”

Hedon shook his head. “Hard to understand the whole thing, isn’t it? Something that gives power to the realm of light might be the same thing that weakens the darkness, and vice versa.”

“You can corroborate what Isolde reports then, Hedon?”

“Aye. Inasmuch as one of my scouts did see the van back on the highway. They seem to be coming this way.”

Enervata simmered. “Listen carefully. I want them dead. All of them except Bruce.”

The no-nonsense highway motel squatted like a layered torte along the road, a blue swimming pool reflecting the stark blue sky. Shannon felt so tired she wanted to crawl from the parking lot to the hotel room. They’d been forced to stop because no one was left with enough gray matter to drive the van. Other than Emily, of course, who seemed lively but whose legs lacked the ability to reach the gas pedal.

“Wanna go for a skinny-dip?” Charles said, wiggling his brows as he swung their bags over his shoulder.

Shannon laughed, looking toward the far end of the property where the pool was. “Sure! And considering the pool’s fishbowl-public in broad daylight, we’ll get thrown in jail. The clink’s a great way to get out of those pesky quester duties.”

Charles gave her one of his ridiculous grins. “I’d cool off in the clink with you any day, babe.”

The others had already dispersed to their rooms. One of the doors opened and Emily emerged, heading toward the pool. She skipped around it, giving it careful inspection. Shannon watched her lay what looked like a fat hackberry leaf on the water’s surface. Even from the opposite side of the complex, they could hear the little girl chortle to herself.

“Anchors aweigh!”

Shannon shook her head. “Poor Emily. How long do you suppose it’s been since she’s had a chance to just go swimming?”

“I wish we weren’t so beat. I’d take you both swimming and show Em how to do motorboat songs à la Springsteen. You put your mouth right at the surface of the water and blow bubbles while you sing ‘Born to Run.’”

Shannon snorted. “Why Springsteen?”

“Cuz he’s the boss!”

She almost asked him why “Born to Run” as opposed to “Born in the USA,” or any other Springsteen song for that matter, but she
wasn’t likely to sift through the Charlie-logic with her brain all fogged out from lack of sleep.

Shannon scanned the greenbelt. Beyond the Interstate exit where the hotel sat, plush green hills bounded into the horizon. She sniffed the scent of woodland from the warm, wet air.

Charles followed her gaze as they strode the sidewalk toward their room. “Nice here, ain’t it, babe? It said this place is called Hot Springs. A place with that kind of name has to have
somewhere
around where we could go skinny-dipping.”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds fab. Except for the part about me having only enough energy to stagger into the shower and stumble to the bed.”

Charles nodded at her, his face bright but his eyes red. “Yeah, me too. It’s fun to think about, though.”

Shannon slid the card into the door lock and they slipped inside.

“First thing’s first. Gotta take out the old axe.” Charles swung his guitar case onto the bed. “You want out, puppy?”

He freed the guitar from its shell and leaned it against the wall between the window and door while the duffels of clothes still hung from his shoulder.

“There. Puppy’s safe.”

Shannon left Charles to revel in his tender moment while she readied herself for the shower. Off with the shirt; threw it on the bed. Skirt unbuttoned without even bothering to slide it off her hips. She let it fall off on its own as she marched toward the bathroom, and when it made its way to her ankles she stepped out of it without even breaking stride. Off with the underclothes. She turned on the bathwater, adjusted the temperature, and then switched it to the showerhead.

Then, and only then, did she take off her sandals and earrings. In she went.

And the shower felt so good! The shower curtain billowed inward from the air currents. She swatted it away and scrubbed off the road, the hospital, the insane worry—lathered it all up and sloughed it right off her skin, watching it swirl merrily down the drain.

She wondered what was waiting for them tomorrow, thinking of the terrifying visions they’d seen together. And then she pushed it all aside. Right now, she only wanted to wrap herself in the moment. If she was
to face it all tomorrow, she needed her relaxation today. And this shower, humble though it was, offered respite.

“What’s going on in there?” she heard Charlie say from the other side of the curtain. And then his face popped in, grinning at her.

“What are you doing?” she said, laughing at him.

He admired her body with a smile. “Following the trail of bread crumbs you left me from the door to the shower.”

She giggled. “It’s nice in here.”

“And it’s lonely out here. Your place sounds better.”

And off went his bread crumbs, flying backward to the bedroom beyond. He hopped in alongside her, his chest instantly slick and shining under the spray.

She touched it.

“Mmm, Shannie.”

She smiled. He ran his hands from her shoulders to the crooks of her arms, and she turned her neck toward the pleasure. She couldn’t believe how comfortable she’d become with him.

“Wash my back?”

She rolled around, turning it toward him. He lathered it up and ran his hands down, washing her back and her waist and her hips. Not in the way he might have touched her in the early days, with the eagerness of someone who’d just discovered her body, but with the deliberate, savored motions of someone who cherished it.

He pressed against her and she felt the readiness above his thighs, but he still did not indulge. They washed themselves and each other without discerning which was which.

At last, she faced him and his mouth closed over hers.

“God I love you, Shannie,” he said, pulling back momentarily.

“I love you, Charlie.”

He ran a hand down her side. “Why isn’t it like this every day?”

She tilted her face down, and he did the same so that their foreheads touched.

She sighed. “Separate lives. Your tour. My—whatever it is.”

“We need to change that.” He ran his hand through her wet hair.

“Now that I know how perfect it can be, since this trip. Except for, you know, the whole problem with the megademon trying to enslave the Earth and all.”

She laughed and pressed a wet face to his wet shoulder.

“But really.” He smiled, and he looked at her the way a little boy might look at the latest, coolest video game or skateboard. Or guitar, depending on the boy. “Really, babe. We need to change that. What if we screwed this up? What if all this ‘here today, gone tomorrow’ leads to losing you? That would suck beyond belief. I want to crash your shower
every
day.”

She reached behind and switched the water off. The stillness enveloped them in the form of steam. Even the shower curtain relented.

“Come on, baby,” she said, stepping out.

He followed her. He had a towel in his hand before she could reach for one, and he caressed her body with it, sliding it over her with reverence. She smiled and tilted her head back, letting him dry her.

She stepped toward the bed, and as he followed he toweled himself off, barely—the eagerness had perhaps crept back. She threw herself back on the bed, her arms stretched over her head, and he tumbled after her with his hands locked in hers.

“I love you, Shannie.”

“So you’ve told me.”

“I can’t say it enough.”

He gripped her hands. “I love you, Shannie.” He said it into her ear. And then he said it into her hair. And then he said it to her collarbone, and her breasts, and her stomach. She let him say it, let the truth of it wash over her, hold her in its embrace.

“I love you, Shannie.”

As his skin met her skin, she felt it in her body. God how she felt it! She felt it curl from her hips in a ball of ecstasy. The absolute trust, the aching, gorgeous release.

She cried out.

He gripped her.

It washed over her in unrelenting pulses. Colored waves that radiated from her center toward the outer reaches of her body. She gasped and reveled, eyes open but not seeing, and then closed but seeing everything.

She told him she loved him, too. Her words were caught, strangled. She said it breathless and shuddering.

“Say it again, baby.”

He was over her. His lips at her ear. “Let me hear it again, Shannie.”

She swerved her hips away, ticklish now.

His hand gripped her and held her still. He pressed himself up against her, held back.

“Say it again, baby. I wanna hear it.”

“God, Charlie. Don’t! You know!”

She was crazy sensitive. But still so hungry. His muscle was right there, scorching, pressed at the center of her and yet not entering. God, it was tantalizing.

“Let me hear it again, Shannie.”

“Charlie, you—”

“Let me hear it again, Shannie.”

“I love you. I love you, Charlie. I love you like I’ve never loved anything before.”

His mouth enveloped hers. His legs gripped her legs and he pressed forward, upward, inward.

She cried out. Her head flung back, pressing the pillow down under her neck. A glisten of sweat beaded her brow, her arms, her stomach. His stomach. She wrapped her ankles around his and yearned him in.

He filled her with shards of heat. She lost herself in that heat. She arched her back and pressed herself forward. His lips grazed her collarbone. Her nipples demanded the feel of his skin and her head swung to the side in yearning. Her body was only a veneer for something timeless, something that sewed them into harmonious, pure rhythms of life.

He strained and she gripped him fast. They stretched toward each other in the span of a coursing moment. It was impossible to get any closer. The muscles in his chest and shoulders flexed. His head thrust back.

She closed her eyes. His hands squeezed hers. She drank in a long breath and he held her so very tight for a lingering, sparkling, blessed moment.

He exhaled.

His back went slack and his head dipped over hers, though his arms remained flexed.

“Relax,” she breathed, touching his thigh.

“Don’t want to crush you,” he mumbled into her hair.

She giggled with a sleepy, stretchy shiver. “You won’t.”

He relented, settling over her. She felt discombobulated, home.

“I meant what I said earlier, Shannie. I need you. I want you in my life every day.”

“I think I would love that, Charlie.”

“Mmm! It’s going to be so nice.”

“I can’t imagine how we’d work it out, though. I’m about to switch gears with my career. I’ve decided I’m going to get serious about the stand-up circuit. That means travel. And you’re always traveling with your—”

“Shh, baby, shh. We’ll work it out. If we both want it, and it’s really important to us, the rest will work out.”

Her eyes closed, and she allowed herself to surrender. She must have dozed off then because when she opened her eyes again he was laying beside her with his arm about her waist and his nose in her ear.

She rolled over to the edge of the bed. His hand grasped her wrist. “Where ya goin’, babe?” he said with a slur.

“Just going to get cleaned up. I’ll be right back.”