Call Out (5 page)

"No." Not even a little bit.

London touched my hand, and I jumped. I made
the mistake of turning to look at him and saw the runway rushing
past outside the window. I closed my eyes again, only to open them
a moment later in surprise as London took my hand in his. He smiled
at me and gave my hand a little squeeze. Last night, I had offered
him this small comfort while he told his story. Now he offered it
back to me. I took it.

Soon enough we were safely in the air. The
pilot gave the all-clear, telling us it was safe to move about the
cabin and turn on electronic devices, and I shifted down out of
panic mode. London let go of my hand, and I felt a pang of
disappointment that I wanted to kick myself for. I dug out my iPod
and my headphones, just as London was doing. Headphones on and
mellow playlist chosen, I settled back against the seat and tried
to pretend I was on a bus.

A moment later, I was back to wanting to kick
myself, this time for the little thrill that went through me when
London took my hand again. I can be such a girl sometimes.
Chapter Five

For some people, music is just noise,
pleasant sound to fill up the silence or drown out what they don't
want to hear. To me, it's much more than that. Music can energize
me, soothe me, motivate me. Make me laugh, make me cry, make me see
things in a new way. It can make me think or quiet my mind.

Right now, I needed to disengage my brain for
a while. Even in sleep, Dylan hadn't been far from my thoughts. The
details of my dream hadn't stayed with me, but the overall sense of
danger and loss had. I couldn't stop wondering where she was, how
she was, and what the hell was going on. There were no answers to
my questions - not yet - and I needed a little quiet time in my
head.

Closing my eyes, I let the music wash over
me. The songs didn't drown my worries, but they did manage to mute
them. I floated on a sea of mellow rock for a while. Then the track
changed again, and I recognized the song as one of DPS's. And
something clicked in my brain.

I paused my iPod and tugged the headphones
down to hang around my neck. Beside me, London looked like he might
be sleeping. He hadn't gotten much rest the night before, so if he
was asleep, I didn't want to wake him. Then again, he was still
holding my hand, his grip tighter than it should be if he were
asleep. Either way, I needed to talk to him. He might be able to
answer one of my questions. An important one.

For a moment, I debated how to get his
attention. I opted for just leaning into him. With the armrest
between us, all I really did was press my arm against his, but it
worked. He tugged out his earbuds and looked at me, waiting to see
what I wanted.

Keeping my voice low, I asked, "When
you...did that whole thing with Dylan's dress. Did you...could you
tell if she was hurt?"

A slight frown creased his brow and turned
down the corner of his mouth. "Can we try not to talk about this
stuff in public?" he asked. "But...yeah. I meant it when I said
she's okay."

"Not hurt?"

"Not hurt."

Tears stung my eyes, and I ducked my head to
hide. London let go of my hand then so he could tip my face back
up.

"Don't fall apart on me," he said, looking
into my eyes.

"Not making any promises," I replied.

The moment stretched out, and it might have
crossed the line into romance movie cheesiness if London's stomach
hadn't chosen just then to rumble like a Harley rally. He looked a
little embarrassed, but I just grinned.

"Yeah, me, too," I said.

He gave me a tired smile. "So...Key lime pie
for breakfast?"

I laughed. "Mmm, no. Conch fritters."

It was London's turn to laugh. "For
breakfast?"

"It wouldn’t be the first time," I told him.
"Dylan and I....oh shit." Memories flooded in, and I felt like the
world's most heartless bitch. The tears that had threatened earlier
came back, spilling down my cheeks.

"She's okay," London said, brushing away my
tears with the pad of his thumb. "She's okay, and we're going to
find her."

I shook my head. He didn’t understand, and I
needed him to. Leaning in closer to him, I lowered my voice. "How
much do you know about how Brian and Dylan met?"

"Everything, I think," he said. I saw it when
he figured it out, his mouth dropping open in surprise. "The
cruise...you guys went to Key West."

"Yeah. The three of us spent a day playing
tourist together. His friend, Seth, had gotten hammered the night
before and flaked out. We ran into Brian that morning when we were
headed off the boat. He told us about Seth bailing on him, and we
invited him to come with us. I think that's when it all
started."

"That's what Brian told me. That he fell in
love with her then. There."

The tears were back. London tried to wipe
them away again, but I brushed him off, scrubbing at my face with
the back of my hand.

"I kind of keep forgetting that I'm not the
only one who cares about her," I admitted. "It was just the two of
us for a long time. I mean, there were guys, but they never stayed.
And our other friends. But...I don't know. It was
just...different."

"I think I know exactly what you mean," he
said, turning to glance up toward Brian's seat.

"You guys are like brothers," I said. Then,
"No. You are brothers, or you see yourselves that way. It isn't
about genetics."

London turned to look me in the eyes, like he
was searching for something there. Whatever it was, he must have
found it, because he nodded before snuggling back into his seat.
"Yup, brothers. It's amazing to me how many people just don't get
that."

"That you can be closer to a friend than to
your 'real' family?"

"Yup."

"I could rant for days about that," I said.
"And about all the other ideas that society tries to impose on
people. But I'll spare you."

London grinned. "I think this is where I'm
supposed to be grateful, but honestly I'd like to hear your rant.
Sometime when we’re not ass deep in alligators."

"Be careful what you wish for," I said.

"Because I might get it? I'll take my
chances." With that, he tucked his earbuds in again, leaned his
head back, and closed his eyes.

I slipped my own headphones on again and went
back to trying not to think. But now I had pleasant thoughts -
daydreams - to block out as well as my worries about Dylan.

A short time later, the captain announced our
approach to Key West International. The fasten seatbelt sign came
on, and we were asked to turn off our electronic devices. I tried
to focus on breathing, since I could no longer hide in the music.
Landing doesn’t bother me as much as takeoff, but it’s bad enough.
For some reason, I was surprised all over again when London took my
hand. I guess I just expected the nice guy act to fall away and
show me the same sort of selfish dirtbag I was used to dealing
with. But I was beginning to suspect that the nice guy thing wasn’t
an act at all.

Chapter Six

We touched down in Key West, smooth as glass,
taxied a bit, and came to a stop. I wrestled my backpack into my
lap, only to have London take it from me. The bag wasn’t heavy or
anything. I could handle it. And even just a few years ago, I would
have made sure any guy trying to carry my stuff knew that I was
woman enough to deal with things on my own. Now, I knew that if
London felt the need to play the gentleman, it wouldn’t cost me
anything to let him. I held up traffic so he could get out into the
aisle and then followed him up to the door.

I’d never been to a small airport before, so
the big portable metal staircase took me by surprise. Since we were
safely on the ground, I could afford to find it charming and
amusing. We all filed down the stairs to the tarmac and headed
toward the terminal. Brian had gone ahead, and I half-jogged to
catch up with him. He glanced at me as I drew up even with him, and
I gave him a little smile. I slid my arm around his waist, and he
drew me close against his side.

“It’s hard. Being here again,” he said.

“Yeah, it is.”

He hugged me a little tighter before letting
go so he could open the terminal door. We stepped inside, London
right behind us, not knowing where to go.

“This guy we’re meeting,” I said. “Any idea
what he looks like?”

London shook his head. “Shelley said he’d
find me.”

We decided the best place to look – or be
seen – was in the waiting area, so we followed the signs there. No
one milling around looked anything like a mage to me, but then
neither did London. I dropped down onto one of the seats and took
out my cell phone. I switched it on, hoping for a message from
Dylan. Instead I found another voicemail from my brother.

I checked the time. Alex would be at work and
with any luck I could just leave a message. Mentally crossing my
fingers, I dialed Alex’s phone and waited. Sure enough, it went to
voicemail.

“Alex, it’s me,” I said. “First of all, my
name is not ‘Lizard.’ Second, I told you not to blow up my phone.
And last but not least, I will call you back when I can actually
talk. And I swear I’ll tell you everything.”

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and
looked up to see both Brian and London watching me. Brian had one
eyebrow quirked up, like I’d done something weird. London looked
like he was trying not to laugh.

“What?”

“Lizard?” Brian asked.

“Eavesdropping bastards,” I muttered. London
did laugh then. I was beginning to really like that sound. Dammit.
I sighed. “My brother calls me that when he’s pissed at me. He’s
been doing it since he was, like...two.”

“Lizard,” London repeated.

“Call me that, and I’m not responsible for
your medical bills.”

London turned away, laughing, to look around
the terminal. He froze, and I followed his line of sight, wondering
what was wrong. All I found was a man leaning against an otherwise
vacant patch of wall. He looked right at home in the Keys, with his
blond-streaked grey ponytail, boater’s tan, and khaki cargo shorts,
and nothing about him set off any warning bells. I couldn’t figure
out London’s reaction, until the man let his gaze drift to London.
There was something in the man’s eyes that said he not only knew he
was being watched but had been waiting for London to notice him. He
pushed away from the wall and came toward us, hands in his
pockets.

“You Shelley’s stray?” he asked as soon as he
was in earshot.

“Mr. Ashe?” London asked in reply.

“No ‘Mister’,” the man said. “Just Ashe.”

“London Dahlbeck.” He held his hand out. I
half-expected Ashe to ignore the gesture, but he surprised me by
giving London’s hand a firm shake.

“Wasn’t expecting a tagalong.”

London shifted my backpack a little on his
shoulder as he turned toward Brian. “Brian Kelly,” he said.
“Dylan’s boyfriend.”

“Dylan’s your missing friend?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ashe shook hands with Brian, too.

London stepped around Brian to hold his hand
out to me. He helped me to my feet, and then introduced me as
Dylan’s best friend.

While Ashe hadn’t seemed to mind Brian’s
presence, I could tell he wasn’t happy to have me there. I wasn’t
sure why, and I couldn’t be bothered to care as long as he helped
us.

Ashe glanced around at the three of us and
shook his head. “Okay, Stretch,” he said. “Bring your entourage and
come with me.” With that he turned and walked away, not seeming to
care much if we actually followed.

It didn’t take long to make our way from the
waiting area to the nearby lot where Ashe had parked. He drove an
aging El Camino; getting more than two people in the passenger
compartment would be impossible. London tried to give me the
passenger seat, but Ashe wasn’t having it.

“Your girlfriend can ride in the back,
Stretch. We got things to discuss.”

London looked like he wanted to argue. I
figured we didn’t need that.

“It’s fine,” I told him. “I’m from Texas,
remember? Grew up riding in the back of trucks. Go on.”

I didn’t give him another chance to argue but
climbed over the tailgate and settled into a corner. Brian sat next
to me and put his arm around me. One of the first things I’d
learned about Brian back when we’d met was that he’s a very
hands-on kind of guy, though not in a sexual way. As a general
rule, I don’t like strangers hugging me, but it had never been an
issue with Brian. In fact, his hugs were pretty awesome. A lot of
guys I know do that one-arm-macho-man-hug or else stand three-feet
away and barely touch you. Brian hugs like he means it, probably
because he does.

I braced my feet against the wheel-well and
pressed up against Brian so I wouldn’t bounce around the bed of the
truck. Being this close to him for more than a few seconds, I
realized that he’d been working out since the cruise. He hadn’t
gone all Schwarzenegger or anything. You couldn’t even notice the
muscle through the loose-fitting t-shirts he’d been wearing, but I
was willing to bet he would look amazing without them.

Yes, I think my best friend’s boyfriend is
hot. I’m a good friend, but I’m not dead. Besides, Dylan likes that
we can giggle like high school girls about how sexy her man is. I
hoped we’d get the chance to do that again soon.

Brian and I didn’t try to talk as we bumped
around Key West in the back of the El Camino. We weren’t at highway
speed, but there was still enough wind and noise to make talking
not quite worth the effort. The ride didn’t take long, anyway. I’m
pretty sure you can circle the entire island in half an hour, and
we were taking a direct route from the airport to a small house on
– of all things – Elizabeth Street.

Ashe parked on the street in front of a cute
little house wedged in between two larger, multi-story houses.
Brian climbed out of the truck bed first and helped me down. The
second my feet touched the ground, Ashe stepped up and pointed at
the nearby cross-street.