Worlds Apart Page 9

  More precisely, he was leaning on the axe, breathing hard as he glared at the woodpile. He turned to watch Tina park her car and climb out.

  “I can find a teenager to do that for you,” she said as she walked toward him. Her footsteps were muffled by his wheezing.

  He let the axe drop and sat on the chopping block. “Chop… my own… damn… wood.”

  Tina pulled out her portable oxygen kit and slipped the mask over his head. He pushed it into place, taking a deep breath when she turned the flow on. They stayed that way for a few minutes, before he nodded. She reduced the flow. “Leave it on for now. Let's go inside, shall we?”

  She walked next to him, but made no effort to assist. He pulled himself up the three stairs to the porch, then shuffled into the house, settling into his favorite chair. Tina pulled the other chair over and set about checking his vital signs. When she was done, she let him remove the mask.

  “How's the pain?”

  “Painful. But nothing I can't handle.” His rested his head against the back of the chair, his blue eyes searching her face in puzzled regard. “You look different.”

  “I do?” Tina shrugged, reaching into her kit for a syringe and test tube for blood. “Things have been hectic in town. You heard about the illness, didn't you?”

  He looked guilty and she smiled a bit in reassurance. “Don't think you should have been helping. I would not have wanted you in the clinic.”

  He shook his head. “Damn shame about it all. It never should have happened, Doc. That's all I can say. It never should have happened.”

  She wrapped the rubber tube around his arm and began searching for a vein. He watched her with narrowed eyes, then snapped his fingers. “Why, Doc! You're pregnant, ain't ya?”

  “What?” She jerked her head up to stare at him. “Just barely. How the hell did you know?”

  He waggled his fingers in front of her. “It's just easy to see. The way you look.”

  Her eyebrows disappeared behind her bangs. “I'll have to study that, Mr. Ruth. Find out how you do it.”

  He waved the comment away. “Can't explain it. It just is.”

  He kept his eyes on her as she took his blood. She felt the tension in his arm, heard the fingers of his other hand tapping the arm of the chair. His nervous state was unusual. To distract him, she continued her interview, trying to get a sense of the cancer's progress.

  As she listened to his heart, he suddenly grabbed her arm. She jerked away in alarm, looking him over for signs of distress. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

  He was staring at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He lifted a finger to point at her, but he didn't seem capable of speech.

  Her mind raced through possible causes of his malaise—stroke, heart attack, aphasia—and all the emergency treatment she should begin administering, but for some reason she couldn't move. His eyes held her still, eyes that were not focused on any internal distress, but on her.

  Eyes filled with a terrifying mix of wonder and revulsion. “Who got you pregnant, Doc?”

  She swallowed, this time afraid for herself. “Wh… why?” She stood and moved a few steps away from him, but couldn’t seem to move any farther. “That's not really any of your business, Mr. Ruth.”

  His hand snatched out and grabbed her arm. It was a powerful grip, despite his age and illness. “Say it is my business, Doc. I need to know if you understand what you've gotten into. I need to know who got you pregnant. And I need to know where he is right now.”

  Tina jerked her arm away from him, but once again, she couldn’t seem to move away. “This is ridiculous,” she said. “But if you must know, he was just a... a guy I met. A one-night stand, all right? That's the only time I saw him. I don't know where he is now.”

  “His name?”

  Tina found she was breathing hard. She couldn't look away from Ruth's hard blue glare. When she didn't answer, he leaned forward. His voice made her shiver. “What is his name?”

  “Clive Winslow.” She spat the name between gritted teeth, and grabbed her kit, tossing equipment back into it. She didn't quite notice her sudden freedom to move, nor the abrupt lessening of threat from Ruth. “And that's the last time I want to say that name,” she shouted. “I don't know why it was so goddamn important, but now you know. I hope you're happy.”

  He began to chuckle. This brought the wheezing back and Tina hesitated at the door, turning back to him. His chuckle degenerated into a coughing fit. She dropped her things back onto the floor and dug out the O2 kit again.

  “I'll leave this here for you,” she said. “It's only good for about thirty minutes, but I'll bring up a tank right away. You need to keep oxygen with you all the time, do you understand?”

  He put the mask on, nodding, but gestured wildly at her to stay. She waited until he got his breath.

  He removed the mask. “I know Clive Winslow.”

  For a moment, Tina felt like she'd been socked in the gut. She placed the small tank in his hands. “That's nice. I guess he was here to see you. He didn't tell me what his business was.” She met his eyes without flinching. “I don't want him to know, Mr. Ruth. You have to promise you won't tell him.”

  He lifted a finger, moving it back and forth. “You don't know what you've gotten into, do you?”

  She stood. “I know I'm having a baby. I can handle this on my own. That's all I've gotten into.”

  “No, it's not.” He dropped his hand back to the chair and regarded her with solemn eyes. He seemed to relent. “I don't know him well, Doc. But I think he's an all right fellow.”

  “Promise me you won't tell him.”

  Ruth's lips tightened. “There are things you need to know, Doc. You have no idea how amazing this is. If you don't want Winslow to know, then somebody else needs to tell you what the deal is.”

  She shook her head. “There is no deal, Mr. Ruth. I'll take care of this baby myself.” She turned to the door. “I'll be back with the oxygen tank. And I'll find someone to chop your wood. You stay inside and rest.”

  She was relieved when he let her go.

  Chapter 15

  Clive straightened from his lean against Sheriff Nancy's locked door in Poentreville. The sheriff herself had just turned the corner two blocks away, her brisk walk covering the ground in long steps. Her long coat flapped behind her, as if unable to keep up. She'd spotted him, but no greeting creased her face as she approached. He didn't move away from the door.

  She stopped in front of him. “Mr. Winslow.” Neutral voice.

  He tipped his head. “Sheriff.”

  “Something I can do for you?”

  “I'm in town. Checking in, as required.”

  She waved him aside and unlocked the door. “Magger's friends have disappeared. I sent that along in a report to your superior.”

  He followed her inside, waiting by her desk as she snapped a finger to start a blaze in the hearth. She turned to face him, her hands pushing into the pockets of her coat. “What's your business this time?”

  “Same case,” he said. “Your portal's the site of a major breach, Sheriff. That means you have citizens involved in it. I want to talk to them.”

  “Do you have names?”

  He shook his head. “You'll have to help me here, Sheriff. Let's talk about your troublemakers. Tell me about illegal activities you have to deal with. Who works for whom?” He pulled out the visitor's chair and straddled it, gazing up at her dismayed expression. “I want to know all about Poentreville and the people who keep you busy.”

  Her lips tightened as she returned his stare. He could see her considering her options, nodding when she realized she didn't have any. She slipped off her coat and threw it on the rack. “We'll need coffee,” she said.

  ~~

  The sun had moved enough to send bright rays through the jail's upper windows. Clive blinked as the light stabbed his eyes, blurring the documents shimmering above the sheriff’s desk. He pushed his coffee away and sat back in his chair. His stomach
growled as he frowned up at the sheriff.

  “Interesting cast of characters in your little village, Sheriff,”

  “We're fairly isolated, with just one domestic portal,” she said. “The forest is wild. It's the kind of environment that attracts risk-takers. Some folks maybe step too far out of line in their chosen ventures, but most of these people are good ones.”

  Clive grunted, his gaze shifting back to the documents. “You have a lot of trappers.”

  “You know there's an enclave in the area, Mr. Winslow,” she said. Clive heard the admonishment in her tone and his frown deepened. “Some werewolves make a game of it, staying outside and daring the trappers to catch them. Sure, the trappers are in it for the money, but I appreciate their protection.”

  Clive glared at her. “And some of those werewolves are innocent people who couldn't get to the enclave on time. Some of them are women and children, or newly afflicted. They don't stand a chance.”

  “That doesn't matter, Mr. Winslow. A rogue werewolf is a danger to everyone, and you know it. If they don't get themselves locked away before transformation, they have to be eliminated before they hurt someone. It doesn't matter who they are in human form. And this has nothing to do with your investigation.”

  “It does when it's a werewolf crossing the portal into the Flatlands.”

  “You're looking for a werewolf?” The sheriff shook her head. “You're the only were who has been around lately, I assure you.”

  “You may think so, but there's no doubt a werewolf went through that portal and returned. Possibly more than once. But the fact that he's a werewolf is less important than the fact that he's a criminal.” Clive pointed an angry finger at the shimmering document. “And he's working with people in your town. Magger was one. Two others have disappeared, three if you count the nymph I talked to. Who knows them? Who else does business with them?”

  Nancy snorted. “With the nymph? About half the men in town at one time or another. Magger and his crew are hired thugs mostly.” She leaned past Clive and tapped the desk twice. The document went away and was replaced by a small hologram of a goblin whose jowly visage scowled at Clive as if he could see him.

  “That's Nottum Grimman,” Nancy said. “He's not a pleasant person to deal with, but if you want information, he's the one to go to.”

  “Where do I find him?”

  “He has an office on Bolger Way, behind the tavern. But the last I heard, he's not in town.”

  Clive sighed. “So where is he?”

  Nancy shrugged. “He's got a cabin in the forest. I can give you general directions, but hardly anyone knows exactly where it is. Maybe we can find a pixie to ask.”

  A pixie, Clive thought. Just what I need.

  ~~

  Damien whistled a Kaarmaneshian tune as he used his foot to tease open the door of Tina's office. She glanced up from her computer with a dazed expression. He let the tune fade into a whistle of amazement at the mess on her desk. “I didn't know there was that much paper in the world,” he said.

  She blinked, as if seeing the papers for the first time. “It's at least Oregon's share,” she said. Then she sniffed. “What do I smell? Did you bring…?”

  “Food.” He entered and turned to place his burden on the credenza, brushing aside another pile of paper to make room. “I left Sharon's on her desk. She was helping Mrs. Blysdale into her car when I got here.”

  Tina inhaled a deep breath and pushed away from her desk. “Food. You're an angel of mercy.”

  Damien’s lips twitched in amusement. “Can't let the town's most beautiful doctor go hungry.” He pulled out two sandwiches, handing one to her. “I have an obvious ulterior motive. I can sit here and eat with you.”

  She bit into the sandwich without moving back to her desk, while he claimed the visitor's chair and set a salad on top of her papers. He grinned back at her, making a show of checking her out.

  “Hmpf,” she said, returning to her seat and ignoring his flirting. “You've certainly made yourself useful since you showed up around here. I hope you know we appreciate it.”

  “No point skulking in my room all day.” He lifted his sandwich, piled with half a pound of sliced, roasted lamb. “You people are in a spot of trouble, and I may as well help. I'm not doing all that much.”

  “You'd be surprised. Running errands and doing handy work makes a big difference. We need our infrastructure to keep functioning or we won't be able to treat the sick.”

  He studied his dill pickle with distaste, then placed it on her sandwich paper. “I hate these things. It's all yours.”

  He held up a finger and when she looked at him, he cast a small holding spell to keep her attention. She returned his stare, her chewing slowing. He touched her hand, a soft stroke down one finger. “You're busy these days, but things will calm down eventually.” He kept his voice soft and alluring. “I'm thinking of sticking around a while. You wouldn't mind, would you?”

  She swallowed, her hand twitching closer to his reach. He continued his stroking, watching as her pupils dilated under the force of his spell. “Of course I wouldn't mind,” she said. “It would be nice to have you stay.”

  “We could get to know each other better,” he said.

  “Yes, I'd like that,” she said, then blinked, breaking the spell, and looking down at her sandwich. He lifted his hand from hers and sipped his coffee, holding his frustration in check. He'd been trying for several days to bewitch her, but she always broke away. He'd never met a human with that ability, but he was confident he could break her down soon.

  “Actually,” she said, “you shouldn't stick around on my account. If that's why you want to stay—not that I'm not grateful for your help these days—but I'm not...,” She flipped a hand, brushing him away. “Available.”

  He caught her gaze again. “Now, I've asked around, Tina.” Her pupils widened again as she slipped back into his spell. “Folks say you aren't involved with anyone.”

  “No,” she agreed, not looking away. “But I'm pregnant. You won't be interested in me for long.”

  “Who says so?” He resumed stroking her hand. “I already know you're pregnant. It's not a problem.”

  He felt a shock go through her and she pulled away. “How do you know that? You're the second person who's told me that without any way of knowing it.”

  His shrug was honest. “The whole town knows it, Tina. Even if you've only told one or two people, the CDC people had to know, and they have no compunctions about gossiping.”

  “Oh, shit. I don't want people worrying about me right now.”

  “It's out of your hands.” He smiled, trying to draw her back in. “Everyone wants to help you, and so do I.”

  She wasn't buying. “You just want sex.”

  His smile widened, and he covered her hand with his in a gentle squeeze. “Of course I want sex. Why pretend otherwise? But I'm interested in a lot more than that.” She was caught again, this time gripping his hand as she stared at him. He increased his effort to hold onto her, taking the risk that she'd feel his Working, and would be suspicious of him. He had to take the chance. She was too slippery. But he didn't want her afraid of him. Not yet, anyway.

  “Let's just take it a day a time, okay? I'll stick around Green Roads. Get a job here. We'll be friends. But you know I'd like to be more, whenever you're ready.” Flame roared inside him as he gazed at her, but he stamped it down, refusing to let it interfere with his spell. Later. Once he'd learned how she'd conceived a werewolf's spawn, and stayed alive through a full moon. Once he'd figured out how he could use it.

  Then he could ravage her for days. Taste her terror, along with her blood.

  Later.

  He leaned toward her, the strength of his spell swirling around them. She turned her head, her lips close to his. “Now tell me,” he whispered, “who else knew you were pregnant without being told?”

  Chapter 16

  Kasia dove behind a trash can, the breeze from the energy beam rufflin
g her hair as she beat it by an inch. The ground beside her exploded into spouts of gravel. She peeked above the can, glaring into the corner of the alley.

  “You do know there are no points for style, don't you?” she asked. “You don't get promoted faster if you kill the boss.”

  Her partner swung to sit at the bottom of a fire escape, his wand dangling from loose fingers. Riff Freeder's grin held no hint of remorse, but it did highlight the dimple in his chin. “Forget to charge your shield, Captain?”

  Kasia once again wished she wasn't his superior officer, but she ignored the wish and folded her arms. “Didn't consider you enough of a threat, pipsqueak.”

  His grin widened. “Told you I was going to practice.”

  “So you did. Think you're ready for the field?”

  “There's only so much to learn in practice alleys. With full moon approaching, you know you could use the help.”

  “I heard from Clive this morning,” she said. “He's still searching the wilderness around Poentreville. He plans on using the northwest enclave so he won't have to come back here for the Change.”

  She jerked her head toward the building behind her, and led Riff through the doorway. The empty hallway spilled into a busy thoroughfare and Kasia ducked through the scurrying crowd, continuing her conversation without checking to make sure Riff was keeping up.

  “I'm thinking of sending you to help, unless he reports that it's a dead end.”

  Riff's reply was interrupted as a passing clerk spotted Kasia and waved. “Yo, Captain! Give a shout to Anjili over in Research. She's been trying to find you.”

  Kasia waved a hand in acknowledgment, turned toward her office and crooked a finger to have Riff follow. “That will be about the ward Clive found in the Flatland forest. Let's see what's up.” She tapped her desk twice. “Research—Sensa Anjili.”

  A blue shimmer flipped open like a book hanging in midair. Moments later, the form of a female Elder projected into the shimmer. Kasia bowed her head in respectful acknowledgment of the thin, white hair and wrinkled skin, but Anjili ignored the deference and got right to the point.