Perhaps he really had grown up.
There. In a darkened chamber inside the cool stone edifice was the casting circle. She studied the symbols with every glance the caster afforded them. It wasn't until she saw the book that panic flooded her. Made of Sazi skin, flayed from a living snake shifter, the splotched leather book was covered with fungus and mold that was drawn to the magic inside.
Josette
had seen such a book before. In fact, unbeknownst to every living Sazi save her sister, she
owned
a copy of this same book. She knew the damage it could do to all of their kind. She would have destroyed her own copy except that one of her visions as a child was of her pulling the book from inside a brick building as an adult, and feeling both terrified and relieved that it was there.
Josette
started to back away from the caster. She'd learned all she could for the moment. But an instant before she broke free, the other seer happened to pick up the book, and a surge of energy flooded through the joint connection
—enough for the caster to recognize that he—yes, it was definitely a
he
—wasn't alone inside his own mind.
Power tore through her mind as the caster tried to track down the intruder.
Josette
pushed power back, keeping a barrier between their minds. The caster had the combined energy of the greatest minds of their kind
—the siphon spell had been drawing power for a very long time. She could feel that the spell had been trickling out for a decade or more.
An idea occurred to her. It was deadly dangerous, but what choice did she have? The power he was using
wasn't his.
Part of it belonged to her, and Charles,
Antoine,
and the others. If she could summon the strength to connect all the Sazi seers to the caster, their power might, with the right urging, "come home."
Taking a deep breath, she reached down the tenuous connection that bound all of the Sazi seers. They were ill, and so very weak, but she sensed their cooperation and trust. As she dropped the barrier between herself and the caster she prayed she was strong enough to be worthy of it
—that what she was doing wouldn't kill them all.
Rick stood next
to the bed, feeling a familiar helplessness. Josie's vision had cost her dearly
—as the bad ones always did. He'd had to resort to carrying her to the bathroom and turning on the shower until the cold water revived her. After toweling off her hair and clothing, he'd placed her on top of the bed in a nearly forgotten ritual that was more muscle memory than remembrance. She was bare of emotions, burned to a blank slate from the roller coaster she'd just endured. Even her scent was nearly absent—so faint he could barely smell it, even when she was in his arms.
It would be better if he left before she woke, because he could feel the same old lecture nibbling at his mind
—and he no longer had any right to lecture her.
Instead, he decided to check in. If the ferocity of the vision was any indication, things were going to get messy here soon. It would probably be a good idea to stick around for a few days, at least until he could finish filling her in on the situation. He carefully checked all the windows and then locked the door behind him, testing it to make sure she'd be safe until she woke.
A bell tinkled as he pushed open the brass-handled door to the motel office. Stepping inside, he was relieved to find the place both clean and well tended. The small lobby was furnished with either retro furniture from the sixties or the real thing, lovingly cared for. There were newspapers next to a coffeepot on the laminated wood-grained top of a circular coffee table with conical legs with brass rings on their feet. On either side were matching chairs with square orange vinyl cushions. The leaves of a fake rubber tree rustled oddly in the fitful breeze a window air conditioner put out. Everything was neat, clean, but well worn and from a bygone era. It almost felt as though he'd stepped onto a movie set, or into one of Josie's visions.
"Can I help you?" A middle-aged woman moved behind the check-in counter. She was pretty, with dark brown hair and wide, doelike eyes. There wasn't a hint of gray in her hair, but tiny worry li
nes
were starting to form between her brows and at the corners of her mouth. She smelled harried and felt more than a little depressed.
"I need a room for a couple of days. Don't know how many yet, so I'll just keep a tab." Rick stepped up to the counter and pulled his wallet from his back pocket.
"Do you want a roadside view or one of the rooms facing the drive-in? They only show the movies on Friday and Saturday nights, but if you open up the
curtains you can watch it for free, and they have a station on the radio that plays the soundtrack."
Rick laughed. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd watched a movie, and watching it on the drive-in screen from the comfort of his own bedroom sounded like a hoot. "I'll take the one with the best view of the movie. What's playing anyway?"
"I hope you're not afraid of snakes. The owner has a preference for action flicks and B movies. Tonight there's a double feature of
Snakes on a Plane
with Samuel L. Jackson and the other one
…
what was it
…
oh yeah,
Anaconda."
He let out a low chuckle. "No, I think watching movies where a bunch of snakes get killed is just about the perfect entertainment for me tonight."
"Oh good." The woman behind the counter smiled and reached behind her into a set of square wooden boxes, meant to hold messages and mail, and withdrew a orange plastic key chain with an embossed room number and an actual key. "I'll put you in room 104 then." Excellent, just two down from Josie's room. She slid the key across the counter, exchanging it for the cash and driver's license that he offered.
"I'll need to see a credit card, even though you're paying cash. In case of damages."
Rick wasn't happy about it, but there was nothing to be done. He slid the card across the countertop. There was a series of beeping noises as the credit
card was processing, followed by a few quick clicks later on a computer, and
voila,
the paperwork was ready for his signature. The woman photocopied his driver's license, handing it back before she pulled the yellow copy of the receipt from the back of the form and passed it across the counter.
As Rick walked out, the woman called out after him, "If you need anything at all, just call."
"Thanks, I'll do that."
The hotel room was clean. A little gaudy, but then that was in keeping with the whole sixties theme that seemed to have dictated the style of the place. Both the bedspread and curtains had a royal blue, turquoise, and lime green geometric print. It was a mirror image of Josette's room. The carpet was a thick, royal blue shag that would probably last through the next ice age and beyond. There was even a lava lamp, with globs of green goo in constant motion.
Like totally groovy, man.
He walked over to the closet hidden behind slatted doors. Pulling on the knob he found that there were plenty of heavy wooden hangers, more than he'd need for a few days. He would probably need to shop, since he'd just planned for a quick stop. He set his saddlebags on the closet floor, grumbling when they tipped over and fell forward into the room. He heard the crunch of plastic breaking when it impacted. Hopefully, it wasn't anything important. Then, with a sigh and a promise to himself that he'd deal with it
later, he kicked it back into the closet, where it promptly fell over again.
Curiosity won. He couldn't help but look to see what had caused it to overbalance. Ah! The floor was uneven because of a trapdoor. That could be handy. He pulled the ring set into the closed lid, and found himself looking down into a darkened crawl space that ran beneath the motel. There was a maze of plumbing, some wiring, and lots and lots of spider webs, more than a few of which were occupied.
He set the door back in place and set the suitcase upright again, making sure this time that it sat on an even portion of the closet's floor before pulling the door closed. Kicking off his shoes, he padded over to the window to check out the drive-in and then flung himself onto a surprisingly comfortable mattress.
A few minutes later, while he was trying to decide what things to tell Josie and what needed to remain confidential in his new capacity as a Wolven agent, there was a series of taps on the window in the bathroom. He ignored it, thinking it was a bird or gravel thrown by a departing car. But then it happened again. He swung his legs off the bed and walked to the bathroom door. A slender silhouette stood on the other side of the thin gingham drapes, and the curves showed it was most definitely female. A quick sniff revealed the fledgling raptor, Ellen, knocking.
He opened the window and she stepped back a pace, being careful to remain mostly hidden behind
the massive central air unit for the building. "Yes? Ellen, isn't it?"
She nodded. "I need to talk to you. It's really important. It's about
Josette.
I think she's in terrible danger."
The short snort of air wasn't quite a laugh and sounded decidedly bitter
—even to him. "Why tell me? Josie's perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Just ask her." That was the very lecture he was biting his tongue not to repeat for the thousandth time. She was always at her most vulnerable after a bad vision, but refused to do anything proactive to protect herself in those few twilight moments before she was back in full control of her body. Yes, her animal instincts kicked in if physically attacked. She'd proved that on any number of occasions, but frankly, Rick was a little surprised she wasn't more damaged after years of taking risks. To him, it was the same as putting his keys in the ignition of a motorcycle, starting it up, and then going shopping for the afternoon in a crowded mall. Sure, it
might
not get stolen, but it was a gamble every single time.
He didn't like risks. Too much guard training and then Wolven after that. Josie was so cautious in her animal form, the perfect blend of intelligence and stealth. But slap skin and clothing on her and some days
—
He shook his head just as the girl responded.
"I knocked on her door. She must be out. I hope
nothing's already happened." Ellen's voice was low and nearly frantic and the tension beat at him like a snare drum. Whatever was wrong, she believed it was real, and he'd damned well better take it seriously. Especially since someone was actively trying to eliminate the seers.
"Okay, come around and we'll talk inside."
She shook her head and then looked around again, as though expecting to get caught. "I can't let Mom or Dad see me talking to you. They'll know something's up. I told
Josette
that I'd seen her picture in our house, but I couldn't remember where. She swears she's never met either of them before yesterday. So I did some digging around, and I found it! But I don't dare take it out of the house. Dad'll notice it's missing for sure, even if just for a second."
Josie's picture was in
Ellen's
house? That was odd, all right. Leave it to Bun to wind up right where she needs to be at just the wrong time
—smack-dab in the middle of danger. "Okay, what do you suggest?"
"I'll be working the desk until we go to the drive-in tonight. I don't think anything will happen before then, if at all. Dad's out in the desert with his buddies, and Mom will be buying supplies all afternoon. Could you stop by the office around dark? If you hand me out your towels now, you can say you just noticed you were out. Then, if anyone comes in while we're talking, nobody'll get suspicious. Even if Mom carried them to the room for you, you wouldn't be lying."
It seemed a good plan. There might be flaws, but Rick couldn't spot them immediately. He gathered up the towels and handed them out to the girl, who promptly put them in through the window of the neighboring unit.
"Anything else?" he asked as she started to swing her leg through the same window, following the towels.
"Make sure
Josette
stays out of the office. So far, I don't think Dad has recognized her. Her hair is different and so's her name. But that might not last forever. He can be slow on the uptake, but once he figures something out
…
whoo boy!"
Rick moved his eyes to his watch as the window next door slid closed. It was only two o'clock. At this time of year, it wouldn't be dark for hours.
He stood, leaning on the painted windowpane, looking out at the black clouds rolling in off of the desert. A storm was coming, a bad one. He could smell ozone heavy in the air. In an odd way the weather matched his mood. Something big was happening. The signs were as clear as the clouds darkening the horizon. Amber, a physician who was known for her cool in the face of any crisis was terrified. Lucas had reactivated himself and was pulling old agents out of retirement.
Josette
was in danger.
And there wasn't a thing he could do about any of it right now. Nobody he could shoot, nothing he could fight for the time being. He shut the window and allowed his training to take over.
Probably a
good time to take a short nap.
Especially since he'd driven all night to get here. Staying awake wouldn't solve anything, and he was getting the impression that being alert would soon be critical.
Plus, the comfortable bed was inviting him to make a longer inspection, and it didn't seem right to argue. His eyes were already burning, and his scalp tingled as it always did when he was overtired. It only took a few minutes to set his travel alarm for five
p.m.
and strip off his jeans.