Call Out (15 page)

London still kept his distance, all but
ignoring his friends. Watching him, I noticed that he was
concentrating hard on regulating his breathing, a tried-and-true
trick for controlling the emotions.

Adrian leaned against a wall, arms folding
tightly across his chest like he was cold. He listened to our
conversation – small talk, mostly, with a couple of questions about
everyone’s well-being – and even chimed in a time or two, but he
never took his eyes off London. Maybe ten minutes passed before he
interrupted Kent in the middle of some story.

“London, what’s going on?” he asked.

London, who’d sunk down into an armchair in
the corner, just shook his head.

“It’s been a hell of a day,” Brian said.
“He’s having a hard time of it.”

“I can tell. He’s bleeding.”

Brian and I both turned to look at London,
who looked fine except for the tenseness and exhaustion he’d been
carrying since we left the Dolphin.

“Uh...magic. He’s bleeding magic.”

“Shit,” London breathed. “I forgot.”

I looked back and forth between London and
Adrian, then glanced at Dylan. She looked as confused as I felt.
“Forgot what?” I asked.

“Adrian’s a sensitive,” London said, pushing
himself up out of the chair. “He can sense magic.”

Adrian shrugged. “What he said. I knew he was
a practitioner the first time I met him. I can tell when he uses
his abilities, which has happened like...twice since I’ve known
him. And right now, I can tell it’s, like...radiating off of
him.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” I said. “If you can
sense all that, how the hell did you not know about Julia?”

“Not know what about Julia?” Adrian asked,
his forehead crinkling in puzzlement.

Silence reigned for a moment before Brian
answered. “She’s the one who took Dylan. And she has some seriously
scary magical abilities.”

Adrian’s eyes widened, and Kent let out a
startled, “What?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Brian promised,
“but first I think we need to get London to bed.”

“I’ll second that,” London said, but he made
no move to leave.

“It’s okay,” Brian said, gesturing for London
to come forward. He levered himself out of the chair, paused for a
moment, and then took first one tentative step toward us and then
another. When he drew near, Dylan shivered, I moved nearer Brian,
and Kent took an involuntary step backward. Adrian seemed
baffled.

“What am I missing?” he asked.

Brian looked at Adrian, tilting his head a
little to the side in a contemplative pose that reminded me, oddly,
of the dog in the old Victrola ads. God, I needed sleep.

“You don’t feel it?”

“Feel what?”

London turned and looked at Adrian for a
moment. A moment later, he stepped forward and rested a hand on
Adrian’s shoulder. Adrian laid his own hand on top of London’s. His
expression never changed.

“You don’t feel...sadness like a...heavy,
waterlogged blanket?” I asked.

Adrian looked at me like I’d grown an extra
head. He opened his mouth, probably to ask me what the hell I was
talking about, but he was distracted by London wrapping him in a
bear hug. Adrian hugged him back, not asking any more questions, at
least for now.

As the only one unaffected by London’s
bleeding magic, Adrian volunteered to help London move his gear to
his – London’s – room across the hall. While they were gone, the
rest of us discussed sleeping arrangements. Kenny offered to let
Brian bunk with him so Dylan and I could have Brian’s room, but I
knew Dylan would want to be in Brian’s arms tonight. He also
offered to move in with Adrian and let me have his room, but Brian
vetoed the idea of my being alone. We were discussing the dubious
merits of a rollaway bed when Adrian knocked and Brian went to let
him in.

“London okay?” Kenny asked.

Adrian nodded. “Modern medicine is an amazing
thing. He’s out cold.”

“That was fast,” Dylan said.

“Yeah, but he was dead on his feet. The
sleeping tablet was probably overkill, but now would not be a good
time for him to have to fight with his insomnia. And he figured if
he was all the way under, maybe he’d stop leaking magic all over
the place.”

Brian and I both spoke at once. He asked,
“Did it work?”

At the same time, I asked a different
question. “Why does it matter? It can’t affect us if we’re not in
there with him.”

“Yeah, it worked. And even though he never
came right out and said it, I’m pretty sure that London assumed he
wouldn’t be sleeping alone,” Adrian said, giving me a meaningful
look.

“I guess that settles the question of
sleeping arrangements,” Kenny added.

I sighed. I didn’t mind sleeping in the same
bed as London, but the idea of waking up beside him kind of worried
me. Still, it was the best option. For everyone else, at least.

Chapter Fourteen

Like London, I had little trouble falling
asleep. I was drained emotionally, mentally, and physically. I
prayed the briefest of bedtime prayers, snuggled against the warmth
of London’s bare back, and tumbled headlong into sleep.

I dreamed, and at first they were just
dreams, a jumbled up mish-mash of disconnected thoughts and images.
At some point, though, the dreams changed, becoming more vivid and
coherent.

London and I kissed, and I felt an unpleasant
stinging all over, like my whole body had just regained circulation
and was experiencing pins and needles. I looked down and saw tiny
flames dancing over my skin. I heard a woman laughing, an evil,
sinister sound, and when I turned toward the laughter, I saw Julia,
charred skin a harsh contrast against the white of the wedding
dress she wore. She waved a massive pink plastic wand, and my skin
began to burn....

I woke with a start. A soft, low voice made
shushing sounds in the dark room, and a rough hand brushed over my
forehead and stroked my hair. I let myself be comforted, sliding
back toward sleep, and then all at once I was wide awake.

Who the hell was petting my hair? London –
and the other boys in the band, for that matter – might have
musicians’ calluses, but the roughness of this hand was different.
It was the sort that comes from years of manual labor, like
gardening or working on cars.

“It’s just me,” a familiar voice said, as if
he’d heard me wondering. “Go back to sleep.”

“Ashe? What are you doing here? And how did
you get in?”

“I figured you and Stretch could use a friend
right about now. Looks like I was right, too,” Ashe said. “Now, you
go back to sleep so I can. The rest of your questions can wait
until morning.”

I wanted to protest, but a sense of serenity
rose up to wash away my concerns and curiosity. I recognized the
feeling as a more subtle version of London’s calming trick. If I
had never experienced London’s version, I might not have even
noticed that Ashe was using magic on me. He was good.

I slept, this time without nightmares, and
when I woke, I found Ashe dozing in the chair by the bed. As much
as I wanted answers, I wasn’t rude enough to wake the man. I left
him and London both sleeping and went about getting myself awake
and dressed.

One of those cup-at-a-time coffeemakers sat
on top of the mini-bar, and for half a second I was tempted to brew
myself a mug. The thing looked like it belonged on the set of some
kind of sci-fi movie, though, and I wasn’t entirely sure I could
figure out how to use it, especially after the fitful night’s sleep
I’d gotten. I decided to skip the coffee and see what the mini bar
had to offer. Cursing the powers-that-be who had apparently never
heard of Dr. Pepper, I settled for an overpriced bottle of juice. I
contemplated the snack selection for a moment before remembering
that we were staying on the concierge floor of the hotel. Surely
there was a lounge somewhere with better food.

I wandered down the hall to the lounge,
lingered over coffee and pastries, and wandered back to the room
with a steaming Styrofoam cup in each hand. Ashe was awake, and he
had figured out the coffee pot, though he was swearing a blue
streak under his breath about the tiny cups and the small-batch
brewing. He looked up as I stepped into the room, his attention
focused on the huge cup of coffee in my hand. I handed it over
without a word, and he flashed me a smile that gave me a glimpse of
the handsome devil he must have been in his younger days.

“I didn’t know if you or London would be up,
but I figured if you were and I came back with only one cup, I’d be
in a world of trouble.”

“That you would have,” Ashe replied, taking a
cautious sip of his coffee. “And I think you have enough trouble
without borrowing any more.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I said as I took a
seat at the little two-person table.

Ashe sat down across from me, both hands
wrapped around his cup. “London called me last night, to tell me
what happened.”

“How much did he tell you?” I wanted to
know.

“More than he should have, that’s for sure. I
reminded him three times that cell phones aren’t real secure, but
he just kept talking. He was fairly well rattled.”

“Well, duh,” I said. “Wouldn’t you be if
you’d found out your ex was a crazy evil sorceress who’d kidnapped
your best friend’s girlfriend?”

“I already know all of my exes are crazy, and
about half of them are evil. Even a couple of sorceresses, as you
call ‘em, in there. But that’s not the only thing that had him
worked up last night.”

I turned my cup in my hands, staring at it
without seeing it, trying not to remember. “I know,” I said at
last. I glanced at London to make sure he was still asleep, which
he was. I kept my voice low just in case. “He tell you what he did
to her?”

“I’m guessing you mean the pyrokinesis.”

“So he did tell you.”

“He did.” When he didn’t say anything else, I
raised my head to meet his eyes. “How do you feel about what he
did?” he asked then.

I opened my mouth to ask Ashe when he’d
become my shrink, but something held me back. Instead, I took a sip
of my coffee while I thought about how to answer. “Satisfied, I
guess. And sorry that he has to deal with it.”

Ashe raised an eyebrow. “Not afraid? Not
worried he won’t be able to control it, the way he can’t control
the rest of his magic?”

I shrugged. “It was creepy as hell, but then
all this magic stuff is. And honestly, it never occurred to me that
he might not be able to control it. Should I be worried?”

“Not about the pyro, no.”

“Good to know. The projecting emotions thing
is bad enough.”

“It’s a pain in the ass, for sure,” Ashe
agreed. He looked me in the eye. “But we’re getting sidetracked. We
were talking about what caused London’s freakout last night.”

“We pretty much covered that – crazy
ex-girlfriend, check; crazy flame magic, double check.”

Ashe shook his head. “Girl, just how thick is
that head of yours? You’re missing a couple things.” When I just
sat there looking confused, Ashe explained. “The crazy
ex-girlfriend tried to kill you, for starters. If anything had
happened, to you or Dylan, it would have been because the ex was
trying to get to him.”

“It’s not like that’s his fault.”

“Fault doesn’t matter much to guilt in a
situation like that, and I think you know it.”

“Well...yeah.”

“You also scared the hell out of him when you
went blank.”

“Went blank?” I asked. Then I remembered how
numb I’d felt after my meltdown. “Never mind, I figured out what
you mean. I think I was going into shock.”

“That’s what I told him. Told him what signs
to look for, but he refused to go near you so I ended up repeating
it all to your friend Brian.”

“Yeah, I think I kicked off the whole
freaked-out thing with my own meltdown,” I admitted. I drained my
cup but didn’t throw it away. I needed something to occupy my
hands.

“He told me about that, too. But I think he
saw it in a whole different light.”

I looked up from the design I was etching on
the cup with my thumbnail. “What do you mean?”

“Let me ask you a couple of questions first,
and then I’ll explain. That okay with you?” When I nodded, he
forged ahead. “When you woke up in middle of the night and realized
I was here, what happened?”

I gave him a look that said I thought he was
nuts.

“I know I was there, Elizabeth, but I want to
hear it from your point of view.”

“You were petting my hair like my mom used to
do when I was little. You told me to go back to sleep, and that
you’d answer my questions when I woke up. And you did that
emotional-projection thing to help me stay calm so I could
sleep.”

“Now I want you to tell me about what
happened between you and London when you got back to your hotel
last night.”

I blushed and went back to staring at my
cup.

Ashe laid his work-roughened hand on my arm.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. Sex happens. Sometimes even to us
contrary old bastards.”

I laughed, the sound loud in the still room.
I glanced over at London, who didn’t even stir. I laid my hand over
Ashe’s on my arm and answered his question. “One second I was
standing there, watching London fight with the room key and trying
not to think too much about everything that had happened with
Julia, and the next second he touched my hand, and I suddenly
wanted him so much I could hardly see straight.”

“Could you feel him projecting, the way you
felt my magic?”

I thought about it for a minute. Had I? No, I
hadn’t. “I didn’t feel anything, but that doesn’t mean....”

“Doesn’t it?” Ashe asked, cutting me off.
“Can you not tell when his emotions are bleeding all over you?”

I remembered the wet-blanket feeling from the
night before. “Well, yeah. Sometimes.”