Battle Scars (10 page)

A hurt look came over the middle-aged face. “No.” He looked as if he was about to spit on the ground. “I don’t work for the Board.”

“Oh.” A chill ran up my aching spine as I sat up straighter, considering my options. It was hard to resist glancing toward the door.

He held up a meaty hand. “Don’t hurt yourself. I’m here to talk. Nothing else.”

“So let’s talk.”

“Eddie Longstrand.” He didn’t get out of the chair to offer his hand. “I’m here on behalf of the Middleston family.”

I frowned. “I’ve been replaced?”

“I like to think of it as supplemented.” He got to his feet, standing almost as tall as Bran. “You wouldn’t even know about me if that idiot hadn’t slammed you.” He shook his head. “I’d hate to think what would have happened if you’d been really hurt. Wrath of Hammersmythe and all that. As it is he’s going to have a shitload of trouble if and when she catches his ass.”

I pushed myself farther up the bed. “Which idiot?”

“The guy who hit you, Nathan McCallister.” Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets. “He works for the Chandlers. We’re sort of...competitors. We do stuff for the families.” He tapped his chest. “Jake’s my cousin, twice-removed.”

Felis enforcers.

I tamped down a twinge of panic. I’d never had a good encounter with an enforcer.

“What do you want?” I looked at the IV line. I could pull it out and use the pole as a weapon.

I could also fart and fly if I tried really hard.

“I’d like to offer you an alliance.” Eddie pressed his lips together into a tight thin line before continuing. “We’re after the same thing—the girl.”

“Lisa. Her name is Lisa.”

Eddie eyed me. “The girl. Jake asked me to tag along, keep watch on where you went and did.”

I read between the lines in a burst of belated wisdom.

He pulled out a small notepad and pencil. “You’re in no condition to make a big decision right now, I know that. I’m not going to take advantage of a wounded family member to pressure you. I’m going to give you my number. When you’re ready to talk, call.” The pencil stub scratched across the slip of paper. “Or just wave me in through the front door. I’ll be around.”

The piece of paper fell on the starched white sheet and he was gone, slipping out the door like a damned sumo ninja.

Bran came back in a few minutes later. “Okay, we’ve got the paperwork processing to get you out of here. Doc’s on his way to sign off on the discharge. He’s not happy but I told him I’d keep you in bed—” His voice trailed off. “What’s wrong?”

“Just take me home.” I pointed at the note, still sitting on the edge of the bed. “And put that someplace safe. I’ll need it later.”

* * *

Within the hour I was home and in bed, wearing an old nightshirt and tucked in with the stained bedspread up around my shoulders despite my protestations. Bran was downstairs making tea while Jazz padded around my covered feet and trilled her annoyance at my taking back the big pillow before nightfall.

I pushed down the blanket as Bran appeared, balancing a tray.

“Too warm for this.” I kicked the bedspread to the bottom of the bed, creating a mountain range for Jazz, who immediately spread herself out to claim as much ground as possible.

“Tea, toast. Lightly buttered and if you feel sick say something.” Bran put the tray on the floor and passed me the mug. “Doctor said for you to take it easy. You get any bad headaches, nausea or disorientation and he wants you right back in Emergency.”

“Bah.” I sipped the tea and sighed. “Heaven.”

He crawled in beside me, carrying his own cup. “So what’s with the phone number?”

“What number?” I reached down for a slice of toast, delaying the inevitable. My stomach rumbled.

“The phone number I picked up at the hospital.” He watched me rip off small bites of toast and chew them until they were mush. “It wasn’t lying there on the bed when I left you.”

“It seems that I have acquired followers.” I chose my words carefully knowing Bran’s temper. “The visitor informed me that I got bodyslammed by a Felis enforcer by the name of Nathan McCallister, who works for the Chandlers.”

Bran clenched his teeth, his jaw taut. “What the fuck for?”

“Because it seems I need a babysitter. Or to be precise, two.” I took another mouthful of tea, studying Bran’s face.

He drew in a deep breath, his jaw tightening to the point that I heard his back teeth grinding.

“Again, what the fuck for?” He spat the words out.

I reached down and took another piece of toast. “The two families may be feuding with each other but they’ve got the same idea—use me to hunt down the kids and then they’ll take them whether I agree or not.” I nibbled on the lukewarm slice. “Obviously they don’t have a lot of faith in me convincing the lovebirds to go home. So I find them and the enforcers grab them.”

Jazz trundled over to pick at a crumb on the sheets.

“So what was this all about?” He waved his index finger in a circle. “Trying to kill you was supposed to be an introduction?”

I shook my head. “I’m willing to bet McCallister saw me go after Chandler and wanted to make sure I didn’t reach the kid before he did. Get me out of the way before I could interfere with his ‘removal.’” I touched the back of my neck and winced, finding nothing but hard, tense muscles. “It worked.”

Bran put his mug down and moved closer, pushing my hand away. His fingers began to knead the sensitive skin and break down the tight knots. “Do you think he got Evan?”

“Since I didn’t get a call from Jess or Mary Chandler calling me off I’d say no.” I sighed as the knots began to unwind. “Eddie’s on the opposite side, he’s working for the Middlestons. Guess I didn’t impress Jake with my sincerity.”

“So they’re using you like a bloodhound?” The touches became lighter, more gentle.

“Makes sense in a sad, perverted way.” I twisted to one side to give him greater access. “Neither side wants to call a hunt and bring attention to their kids running away with each other. Neither side’s familiar with Toronto. Their friends and family don’t have the knowledge to roam the streets. It’d be like setting a cat loose in a mousetrap factory—they’d end up making so much noise and commotion that either the kids would split town, making it harder to find them or worse, calling attention to themselves through their efforts.”

“Threatening to expose the Felis,” Bran said.

I nodded, shifting to allow him greater access. “Enough brawling in the streets and threatening will bring in the police and we know where that could go.” I tugged my nightshirt up and off, shivering as my damp skin hit the air. “Why not let me do all the hunting and then swoop in at the end to grab the kids? I’ll get paid either way. They’re figuring I’m all about the money and when they tell me to stop, I’ll stop.” I tossed the shirt on the floor, trying hard not to obsess over the fresh bruises. I didn’t bounce well.

Bran smiled. “I suspect you disagree with that assessment.”

“Tells me they didn’t talk to Jess a whole lot before deciding to go down this trail.” I finished off the toast and reached for my tea. “Those kids deserve the right to choose what to do with their lives outside of this family crap. They might decide to go back but it shouldn’t be a forced decision. They’re almost adults, after all.” I sighed, feeling the heaviness in my arms and legs.

“So what are we going to do about it?” His eyes dragged over my nakedness. “Because I have some ideas.”

I finished off the tea and placed the cup on the table before leaning back into his arms. “First, I rest. Then we dump our trackers and find the kids.” My eyes wandered over to the digital clock. “Holy...is it really after five in the afternoon?”

The heated chuckle in my ear sent tremors down my spine. “Yep. You did spend quite a bit of time in the hospital. And don’t forget you’re supposed to be resting.” His hands rested on my hips, tugging me closer.

“We have to go find those kids.” I felt like I was made of jelly. Melting jelly.

“We’ll go out when it’s dark,” Bran whispered. “You need to give yourself a chance to recover. The kids will still be out there and we’ll find them easier at night—they tend to settle down after busking for the evening crowd and stop moving around so much.” His fingers danced down my back, bumping over the scars. “Now lie back and let me take care of you.”

His teeth nipped the back of my neck, just enough to make me gasp.

“I’m supposed to be resting.” It was a weak protest. “I’m not supposed to get over-excited or something like that.”

“That’s okay,” Bran murmured. “Just lie back and let me do all the work.”

And he did.

Chapter Six

The water in the shower was lukewarm. Bran shook his head as he stepped in behind me and placed his hands on my waist. I banged on the shower head and cursed as the temperature failed to increase.

Bran ducked over my shoulder, letting the water soak his hair. “Not too bad, but when winter comes—”

“I’ll worry about that later.” I reached for the soap, trying to shake the lethargy out of my bones. “I’ll ask Jess if we’ve got any plumbing connections. Might be able to barter something for a new heater. We’ll need it in a few months.”

His hands slicked over my soapy breasts. “I don’t mind making our own heat for a bit.”

“That’s fine when it’s warm outside. Wait until there’s frost on the windows and you’ll be wanting your hot water.” I winced as he touched my hip. “Ouch.”

“That’s going to take a bit of time to go away. Hell of a bruise.” He ran his hand along my left arm, stroking the new scar. “At least this healed over.”

I shivered and not just from the water temperature. The slash had been the result of an errant bullet fired by Bran’s mother in a fit of anger over our interference in her master plan to kidnap a baby and call him her own. The external scars might have healed but I didn’t know how well Bran’s internal ones were.

Bran leaned past me and twisted the hot water tap full open. “Let’s get finished here and see if we can find those two kids before they get into more trouble than we can handle.

* * *

Within the hour I’d extracted my Jeep from the tiny parking spot behind the house and we were on the way to Don Heights—Bran’s suggested first stop on trying to pry the kids out of the underworld.

“I’ve never been there before.” I resisted leaning on the horn as a pair of drunks staggered through the red light in front of us. “Saw pictures in the paper. Didn’t they just renovate it?”

“New playground and all the trimmings. Great place for the kids but at night it goes to the wild side. It’s a beautiful park, been there for decades. Plenty of old growth trees that survived everything being built around them,” Bran said as we raced along the emptying streets. It was well past eleven and I was invigorated by the cool night air.

The good loving a few hours earlier hadn’t hurt either.

“It’s not too far from the city core.” I zipped around a slow-moving convertible, the driver and passenger more involved in each other than maintaining a decent speed limit. “How many kids go there?”

“Depends on the night. A lot of them go to the Point if they’ve got extra cash and want to party.” Bran shifted in the seat beside me, tugging at the knee of his jeans.

“I figured that out.” I pulled up beside a late-night streetcar, the long red torpedo packed with travelers. “And they go to the Heights to sleep?”

“If they can make it. It’s a sort of neutral zone—the gangs don’t recruit there and they don’t allow drugs or booze.” Bran looked at the red light holding us in place. “Mutual respect. Makes it a safe haven for everyone.”

“Until they step off and then it’s open game.” I stomped on the gas pedal the second the light changed, jumping ahead of the slow lumbering streetcar.

Bran shrugged. “It’s a balancing act for everyone. Détente that keeps everyone going one more day.” His attention turned to the dark streets ahead of us. “Sleeping in trees.”

“I remember that.” I didn’t need to mention Angie. “What’s that all about?”

“It’s a way of keeping safe. If you’re in a tree your stuff can’t be stolen or pawed through.”

I risked a sideways glance. “I thought you said Don Heights was neutral ground.”

Bran gave me a sad smile. “For gangs and vices. There’s always going to be someone wanting something you’ve got. Easiest way to keep everything safe is to take it above ground.”

I noted a street sign and made a right turn. “We’ll park nearby and walk in.”

Bran studied my rear-view mirror. “Any signs of your adoring fans?”

“If they’re good I won’t see them.” I’d been watching since we left the house. “These two are good.”

“So are the kids we’re looking for.” He pointed at the curb. “Overnight parking available there.”

I slid into the empty space. It wasn’t hard; the nearest cars were a half block away. “It can’t be this easy to get a spot.”

“Prime area for theft. These kids aren’t usually looking for joyrides but I can’t promise they won’t consider it,” Bran said as he hopped out. “How’s your insurance on this thing?”

“Good enough. I hope.” I tucked the keys into my coat pocket and moved up beside him. The night air was cool, enough to warrant wearing the duster.

I also viewed it as possible camouflage. These two enforcers were good but now I knew they were there.

My side ached. I couldn’t beat them in a fight so I’d have to use my wits.

I could still be outmatched.

A breeze drifted over us. I instinctively raised my face and sniffed, trying to pick up what I could.

Freshly-mowed grass. Turned-over dirt. A scattering of flowers, their sweetness almost intoxicating.

Cigarettes. Sweat. Sex.

Maybe a trace of Felis. I wriggled my nose.

“Anything good?” Bran asked. He’d come to understand my Felis senses could be a blessing and a curse.

“Not sure. There’s so much going on. Best way to find out is to do it the old-fashioned way.” I waved him onward. “Let’s visit fantasyland.”

We walked along the sidewalk beside shuttered businesses until we hit a chain of willow trees, their long draping branches brushing the ground. The glossy black lacquered chain-link fence stood no more than a foot high, more of a suggestion at a barrier than an actual impediment.

The entrance started with an opening in the baby fence and a small iron plaque set in the cement announcing we could enter Don Heights here, a park dedicated to the memory of James Hilton the Third.

Whoever that was. I wondered if anyone had considered attaching a small history book to these granite blocks to inform the public who they were supposed to thank. It’d be nice to know why Mr. Hilton was worth having a whole park named after him.

The willow trees parted to show a handful of paved paths wandering in and out of small clusters of bushes with tall, lanky trees scattered throughout the football field-sized park. We followed the path to the center of the park where a small fountain sat, spewing water out the top of a thin spout to fall in a faux rain into the bottom. No statue of a little boy peeing or a horse spouting water out of his mouth—the sculptor had gone simple and plain, probably hoping to reduce the amount of graffiti and defacement public statues tended to attract.

I could smell the soap and detergent.

Bran nodded before I could speak. “Good hygiene.” He chuckled. “Kind of hard to go ask for cash when no one can stand being within a mile of you. Wear clean underwear and wash behind your ears like your momma said.”

“Good idea.” I spotted a rustling in the bushes to our left.

I didn’t react.

We weren’t going to get anywhere charging around like wild dogs at every twitch and flutter of leaves. I doubted it was either of the Felis enforcers, they wouldn’t be so obvious.

Wise hunters don’t charge at the first sign. They watch and wait and learn what they can.

Bran sat down on the brim of the fountain and yawned.

I rolled my eyes. “Not my fault. I suggested a nap.”

He laughed. “Not my fault. You’re irresistible.”

I joined him, squirming on the cool concrete edge. “Now what?” I studied the bushes and trees. “Wait for the kids to issue an invitation?”

“Maybe.” Bran turned and studied me. “You feeling okay? Not dizzy, shaky or anything?”

The concern in his voice was both wonderful and annoying. I wasn’t a frail little kit running home to Mom the first time I skinned my knee.

On the other hand, we could at any second be in the middle of a major brawl.

I drew in a deep breath, enjoying the smells of the scaled-down wilderness. It wasn’t a full forest but it was definitely a draw for any Felis in the area. “I’m good.”

Not great but good. I wasn’t going to push it.

Bran looked around, trying to orient himself. “It’s basically the same as it was a few years ago but a bit different.” He chuckled. “Now I feel like an old man.”

“Given the way you were moving a few hours ago I can testify that you are definitely not an old man.” I put my hand on the small of my back and stretched with a magnified sigh. “I might like it when you get older and slower.”

“I thought you liked it fast.” He gave a sassy wink.

I felt my cheeks burn and looked at the trees. They didn’t manage to hide the skyline but did a fine job of obscuring it. If I squinted really hard I could almost imagine being back on the farm or some other forest, away from the scents and sounds of the city.

Bran took my hand and squeezed it. “You like it here.” It wasn’t a question.

“I do.” Another deep breath brought back memories of the farm and the nearby forest. My ankle gave off phantom aches, reminding me of my first hunt.

“We should take a vacation.” Another squeeze. “Maybe up to Algonquin Park? Go do a little hiking and camping?”

“You want to go out into the wilderness with me?” I said in a low tone.

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “If you’d like to. We could even go for a run.” A pause, long enough to tickle my nerves. “On one of the trails. I could manage a light jog, I think.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “What brought this on? You know I haven’t heard from Trace. He’s given up on me.”

Trace Bryson hadn’t entered into my thoughts for a good long time. The Felis farmer had taken my rejection well and kept to his part of the bargain, leaving us alone after Bran proved himself worthy of me, in the eyes of the Felis.

It’d been my bad judgment going on a run with Trace that had prompted Brandon and I to re-evaluate our relationship.

I didn’t think it was a far stretch to say Angie’s re-appearance had brought this back to the surface.

“I just think it’d be a good idea, that’s all.” His grip on my hand tightened. “I’m willing to try to put up a tent and throw sleeping bags on the ground if it’d make you happy.”

Tears blurred my vision. “You make me happy. You don’t have to do anything, just be...you.”

He leaned in for a kiss, sloppy and heartfelt. “I try. And the offer stands if you want to get out of the city and kick your heels up, run wild for a bit.” Bran licked his lips. “But I’ll pass on eating raw meat if you catch anything. Got to put my foot down and say we cook it.”

The chuckle caught in my throat. “I’ll settle for a rare steak at the nearest restaurant instead and a late-night double feature of bad science-fiction movies curled up beside you in bed.” I squeezed his hand back. “I’m getting too old for running. I like where I am right now.”

Bran looked away, clearing his throat. He pointed at a tree off from the others, the thick trunk signaling the many years the oak tree had managed to survive. “That’s the couples tree.”

“What?”

“It’s full of branches thick enough to put a tarp between, create a sort of hammock for two people to snuggle in and be safe for a few hours. Not a whole lot of privacy and I sure wouldn’t recommend wild animal sex that high above the ground but I’d put money on your two lovebirds climbing up there at some point.”

I tried to sound casual. “And how would you know about this tree?”

His jaw tightened. “I watched the kids go up there. DJ, for example. They’d scurry up there like they were born to climb trees. Curl up like kittens all tangled ’round each other until sunrise.”

I didn’t say anything.

He kissed the back of my hand and released it. “It kills me sometimes, thinking about what they could have been. What they should have been.”

“It was their decision,” I whispered. “You can’t save everyone.”

“No.” He cocked his head to the side and smiled. “But I can sure try.”

I looked at the tree. Thick, ancient trunk more than a foot in diameter. The old man of the park, the guardian watching over the willows, the maples and the bushes.

“I’m going to head over there, get up on a branch and wait. If the kids show up, great. If not I’ll have a nice view of the park.” I stood up and brushed off the back of my coat. “I don’t think they’ll just wander over to check us out if we keep sitting here.”

“Since I have the climbing skills of an elephant I’ll pass on that and hang out, do a walk along the paths.” Bran dipped his hand in the slow running water. “Maybe see if any of the old crew might still be around. After seeing Angie—”

I flinched inside at the sadness in his voice. I might not have had his experience in dealing with street kids but five years was a lifetime and it’d be a miracle for anyone in his original article to still be around.

I hesitated just long enough to tweak his attention back to me.

“Go.” He slapped my butt. “I’ll be fine down here. Be careful and if you feel sick or dizzy sing out and I’ll be over there in a second.”

I strolled toward the tree. The thick bushes on each side were perfect for an ambush. It was a great place to be if you didn’t want to be noticed.

I sniffed the air, taking in the deep earthy smells. So different from the usual city scents clogging up my mind.

It took me a few tries to get up the tree and I could have sworn I heard a guffaw or two from Bran but I finally got up onto the first branch. From there it was easy to climb higher and higher, the dense leaves hiding me from anyone casually walking by.

Bran gave me a wave and strolled off.

I stretched out on a long large branch, letting my duster hang down and partially camouflage me. My ears were buzzing and I was pushing myself by being so active after being clocked by the Chandler enforcer.

Still, there were worse ways of spending some time at night.

And better ones. My hand drifted to my left shoulder and dug under the black T-shirt to caress the newest love bite Bran had given me.

I pressed my face against the rough bark, inhaling the rich smells. It was easy to forget I was in the middle of a city and imagine I was back on the farm enjoying a lazy night out under the full moon.