Chapter 16

A rustling woke him from his light slumber. He slowly opened his eyes. The inside of the apartment was still lit only by the dreary late-afternoon light streaming in from the rainy day outside.

He rolled over to see Kelly setting a bowl and glass down on the table she'd dragged in to put next to the bed. "Oh, good, you're awake," she said. "I made you some soup. Had a devil of a time finding something to heat it with, but I've got some stocked up now."

He looked at her and said nothing, trying to come awake.

She looked at him and shifted uncomfortably. "So, um, unless you need anything else, I'll be just out in the living room." She turned to go.

"Kelly?" he said. She stopped, but did not turn to look at him. He sighed. "Are you... afraid of me?"

That did make her turn. "What?" she said.

"Are you afraid of me?" he repeated. "You know, the whole death magic thing."

"Oh." She laughed. "No, of course not." Then she caught something of the look in his eyes, and realized he was serious. "I mean, no, I'm not. And... I guess there are probably a couple of reasons why not. First of all, I'm not totally sure I believe it; and second of all, I don't think you'd hurt me anyway."

"Ah," he said. "So you trust me, but you don't trust me?"

"What?" she said, startled.

"Well, you trust me not to hurt you, but you don't trust me when I start saying freaky things about black magic?"

She smiled. "Yeah," she said, "that sounds about right."

He studied her face, and she looked away uncomfortably.

"Does it?" he said quietly.

"Does what?" she said quickly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, do you really trust me not to hurt you?" he said. "I mean... do you regret when we slept together?"

She turned her dark eyes back to him. "No," she said. "No, I don't regret that." She reached over and touched his arm. "Why?" she said softly. "Do you?"

It was his turn to look away. "I don't know," he said. "I wish Anna was back, I really do." He studied the texture of the ceiling. "I went back to the apartment, you know. It's hell not knowing. I still don't know."

"Yeah," said Kelly, studying the floor. "I understand."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know you do. I didn't mean to sound like I'm the only one touched by all this, I just --"

"It's okay," she said. "Really. It's hard on both of us." She looked as if she wanted to say something else, but then she turned and left.

He lay there for a long time, lost in thought. The soup was nearly cold again by the time he remembered about it and began to eat.

When he had finished, he lay back down, but his eyes didn't want to close. He stared at the empty half of the bed next to him, trying not to think about Anna. But the more he tried not to think about Anna, the more Kelly made her way into his thoughts; and the more he tried not to think about Kelly, the guiltier he felt about Anna.

He didn't fall asleep until well past midnight.


Despite the circles under his eyes, Daniel insisted on setting out the next morning. "I'm sick of just lying in bed," he said. "Besides, we don't know how many Guardians there are, or how much the veil was weakened when Amanda and Seamus died. I'd hate to waste time and find out later that there was something we could've done."

The drizzle had stopped shortly before sunrise, and when they gathered their gear, collected Goewyn from the empty garage that had served as her "stable", and set off, the world seemed fresh and new. The air had the fresh, clean smell of a spring rain, and the hesitant sunlight that made it through the clouds made the colors, especially of the trees and grass, seem sharper and more vivid.

Daniel looked around uneasily as Goewyn trotted through the streets. He'd seen vivid colors lately, and all too often they'd meant that something freaky was going on, magic flying around where it shouldn't, and bad things happening to the veil.

But nothing out of the ordinary happened, as long as you didn't count a horse riding down the middle of some of the busiest streets in the metro area, weaving around demolished cars on its way through the city. He started to relax as they rode, but only somewhat. Something was still making him uneasy.

"I think it's the quiet," he said to her as they rode. "I don't like it. It's not just that there's no traffic -- I expect that. But there should be animal noises out there, at least. Birds, or squirrels, or rabbits or something. Even crickets. But there aren't. There's just... nothing."

"It's kind of late in the fall," she said. "Some of those wouldn't still be around. I don't think crickets make much noise in the winter."

He snorted. "You never lived in one of the apartments we had, then. A cricket got in somehow and was living under the stairs one winter. The damn thing wouldn't shut up all night. It drove me nuts." He laughed suddenly. "I'd be up in the middle of the night, holding a shoe and stalking a damn cricket. God, that sounds funny right now."

"You should've gotten a cat," Kelly said. "When I was going to college, I stayed in a house with a friend who had cats. A cricket got in one time, and they played with it for hours."

"That apartment didn't allow cats," he said. "Believe me, I thought about it. We've thought about it since then too, but we just never got around to going and picking one out." He frowned. "You know, that's another thing I haven't seen prowling around -- cats. With all the people disappearing, you'd think we'd see a few out and about."

"I don't know," she said. "What about --"

Suddenly, Daniel raised his hand for silence. "Something's not right," he said softly, glancing around. "Something doesn't quite sound..."

Then it came again, a rustling that didn't quite seem to fit. Daniel's head snapped around to the right, just as a voice came from their left.

The voice said, "All right, guys, just cooperate and nobody has to get hurt."


"Cooperate with what?" Daniel asked, turning slowly to face the speaker. "Is this a criminal investigation or something?"

The voice laughed, and this time Daniel was able to connect the speaker with the face. Three people were standing on a corner that Goewyn had just rounded, and the one who was talking was the one in the middle, a man with a slightly muscular build and short, spiky black hair. The other two, both blonde, were casually holding rifles over their shoulders, but looking very much as if they could bring them quickly into play, should such become necessary.

"No," the figure said drily. "No, this isn't a criminal investigation." He snickered, and his guards laughed along with him. "Actually, I've got orders from my boss to bring in anyone who's out wandering around in this part of the city. And if you cooperate, there's a pretty fair chance that you'll get to keep all your limbs."

Daniel felt Kelly tense suddenly. He started to turn to look at her, and then it hit him too. The crazy guy from the mall. "I'm not going back there! I'm not going back downtown!" And Rachel's words: "The gangs haven't gotten out here to the 'burbs yet."

1911 William Street, Daniel thought. A few blocks south of Leavenworth, Kelly said. Right in the fucking middle of downtown, and I never even thought about it. Some hero I am.

Daniel looked at the men's rifles. The thought crossed his mind that, with no operative transportation channels and in a city rife with looting, ammunition might be hard to come by. It might even be a black-market commodity.

"Now," said the leader, "let's start by having you get off that horse, shall we?"

Daniel looked down at Goewyn, who had picked up on her riders' tension and stamped one hoof nervously. If he were an expert rider, he might be able to charge her directly at the men, and trample them if necessary.

He turned in the saddle to look at Kelly. The look in her eyes showed that she was disgusted with herself for not remembering the same things.

But she nodded at him and slipped down off the horse.

He sat very still for a handful of seconds that lasted a lot longer. Rachel's words echoed in his head. "I'll tell you, they won't stop at raping you. That's if you're one of the lucky ones. You're pretty -- you might last a little longer than some of the other ones."

His gaze fell on the sword, but even before the thought had entered his mind, he knew that a sword, especially in the hands of someone as inexperienced as he, would not be a match for a gun. A dead hero wasn't about to do anybody any good.

Easy for you to say, he thought to himself. Swallowing hard, he swung his leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground.


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