7
SEVEN
My name was a scream on Galen’s lips when I emerged back in my world. I registered two things immediately. One, it was dark. The second was that at least twenty people were scouring the field.
Galen practically tackled me. His chest was heaving and he said my name three times before I managed to find the words to respond.
“Hey.” It was a lame greeting but I was discombobulated.
“Hey?” He crushed me to his chest and held me so tight he almost squeezed the life out of me. “Hey? That’s all you have to say?” His voice was ragged with tears.
I held him back, briefly closing my eyes. My mind was back on the other plane but I wasn’t so much of a narcissist that I didn’t realize he’d gone through hell.
“Hey,” I repeated, melting into him.
He rocked back and forth for a full minute, taking me along for the ride, his cheek resting on the top of my head.
When he could speak again without crying, he pulled back far enough to look at my face. They’d brought search lights and through the shadows I could see several shifters returning to human form asthey burst forth from the tree line. They were naked as they searched for the piles of clothes they’d left behind.
“Hey,” I said in a brighter voice as I met his gaze.
“Say that again and I’ll lose it,” he warned.
“Sorry.” I held out my hands, rueful. “I’m not sure what else to say.”
“I can think of a few things.” Booker appeared from behind Galen. He looked relieved, but tension lined the corners of his eyes. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Oh, well, you know.” I waved vaguely at the symbol. It no longer whispered to me. Perhaps that had been part of the trap.
“Where did you go?” Aurora, calmer than Galen and Booker, asked.
“Another plane,” I replied. “The same plane Clive went to.”
Galen’s eyes filled with fury. “Did you see him? Did he do this?”
“Oh, I saw him.” My lips curved down as the disgusting tableau filled my head. “He didn’t cause this.”
“How can you be sure?” Now that things were calmer, Booker, his professor face firmly in place, only cared about getting answers.
“Clive is dead.”
“You’re sure?” Galen was still worked up, but as sheriff he had to put on a brave face for his men and whoever else had arrived to help with the search.
“Certain.” I rolled my neck. “I don’t suppose I could get some water?” I was parched. Traveling between planes was tiring.
Galen scooped me up before I realized what was happening and carried me toward the spot where two vehicles — both marked with Moonstone Bay Sheriff’s Department insignias — were parked. He put me down on the tailgate of the nearest one and rummaged in the cooler behind me, coming back with a bottle of water. He cracked it himself before handing it to me.
“I could have walked,” I said.
“Good for you.” There was anger in his voice but I knew it wasn’t directed at me.
Well, join the club, buddy.
I drank half the bottle before coming up for air and then finished it off before speaking. “I saw my mother,” I blurted as I handed the empty bottle to Galen.
He took it, crumpled it in his hand, shoved it in a bag that I knew would go to the recycling center, and handed me another bottle.
“We need more information than that,” Booker said when Galen didn’t respond.
