Stop.You’re just making it worse.
The aching in her chest wouldn’t go away.She’d done it—brought him home.So what if he’d changed his mind?She’d still accomplished what she promised.
She’d saved him, though she had been unable to save her father or Hilary.
Well, not precisely.It’s more like he saved himself and I just happened to be there.If you want to get technical, that’s what really happened.
She told that nasty little voice to take a hike just as her bladder declared fresh mutiny.
Don’t compound an already impossible situation by doing a cocker-spaniel on the mattress.It was going to take a bit of work to shimmy free ofthisone, especially since the soft warm thing draped over her was Justin’s coat.
Tears pricked at her eyes.She smelled leather and a healthy male, the indefinable mix of pheromones that shoutedJustin.
She had to stop calling him that.From now on it was Delgado, Del if she felt particularly chummy, and she had to stop hoping.She would only embarrass herself, and after the last few months she didn’t need any more embarrassment.
Besides, she had another problem now that he was out of Sigma’s clutches.She’d promised herself she would make Sigma pay for her father’s death—and for Hilary’s.It was high time she made good on that particular oath.
Rowan made it to the end of the mattress and gave a sigh of relief as she picked her way cautiously toward where there had to be bathroom.I hope this house has two, and a good water heater.I want a decent shower for once.Traveling with Cath was like having a younger sister you couldn’t blackmail.
Rowan found her duffel stowed with the others.Some thoughtful soul—probably Brew—had cleared out the dirty clothes and done a load of laundry.She found a T-shirt and jeans, fresh underwear, her very last pair of clean socks, then carried the pile and her rig into the bathroom, locking the door.
If anyone else wants in, too bad.
Her head throbbed a little less once she’d used the toilet, as if poison had been leached from her system.Given what she’d done to her liver and kidneys last night, it probably wasn’t far from the truth.
Twenty luxurious minutes later, scrubbed and fresh, she stepped into the hall, carrying her dirty clothes.The smell of coffee trickled through the air; she took a deep breath, smiling.
She came around the corner into the kitchen to find Yoshi standing before the two coffeemakers.Which brightened her mood considerably as she neatly stowed her dirty clothes.Wordlessly, he handed her a cup of thick black coffee with two sugars, then set a plastic water glass and three aspirin on the counter.
Rowan nodded her thanks, downed the pills, and drank off the water.She was vaguely surprised she didn’t have more of a hangover, considering the amount she’d put away.
Yoshi refilled the water glass from the pitcher, tugged at the hem to settle his blue linen shirt.“So,” he said finally, pouring himself a cup of coffee with soymilk, no sugar—Rowan shuddered at the thought—and returning the soymilk carton to the bare white fridge.“Cath said you had some trouble.”
Rowan shrugged.“We got out of there with only three-quarters of what I’d hoped.But if it hadn’t been for Jus—ah, Del, we wouldn’t have gotten out at all.”
“Ah.”He blew across the top of his coffee to cool it.“Henderson will be pleased.”
Yeah, you can all go back to normal and I can maybe have some time to plan my grand revenge on a secret government agency.Sounds like a bestseller to me.Wonder if I should start thinking about the movie rights?Rowan Price, martyr to the Psionic Rights movement.
“I hope so.”And considering that he didn’t want me to go to Vegas in the first place, Henderson should be prettydamnpleased.
Yoshi’s dark gaze was eloquently noncommittal.He was willing to talk if Rowan wanted to, equally willing to let it go if she didn’t.Even she couldn’t decide.
She far preferred Cath’s blithe unconcern.“He’s different,” she said finally, staring into her coffee.The house was absolutely silent, the feel of dampers crawling all over her.
It felt sonakedto be under the protective shield.She’d always had trouble with them.Had to be taught how not to blow them down and send out invisible signals that would draw the enemy, but nothing had ever taught her to be comfortable under the sensation.
“You can’t have expected him to return unscathed from the darkness.”Yoshi leaned against the kitchen counter, cocking his sleek dark head.The new almost-punk haircut looked good on him.He was barefoot as usual, sandals properly placed outside the kitchen, ready for him to step in if necessary.You could always tell when Cath was around by the smell of strawberry incense, cigarettes, and hairspray, and Yoshi when you tripped over shoes.Rowan wondered if she left her own marks on the houses they stayed in.
“The battle marks the warrior, as the warrior marks the battle,” he added.
Thank you for that.It’s ever so helpful.
Rowan sighed.The coffee was strong enough to eat away a silver spoon, very sweet, just the way she’d learned to like it in the past year.“I just… I thought…”
“Thought what?”Yoshi cocked his head, listening.A faintly surprised expression crossed his face.“I think perhaps we’d best wake everyone,” he continued.“I have a rather remarkable feeling of uneasiness.”
Rowan closed her eyes,feelingaround in that nonphysical manner which seemed the most reliable way of scouting out danger.“I don’t feel any Sigs.”
