Out of Nowhere (The Immortal Vagabond Healer Book 1) (25 page)

That sounded bad. I limped over to the machine and she clicked the mouse.

‘Hi Sean, It’s Monique
.
’

Crap. I’d never really paid enough attention to her voice, but now that I did, I realized she sounded like she should be charging me by the minute.

‘I just wanted to make sure you’re OK. You took off so suddenly the other night. Call me when you can. Hope everything’s alright. Hugs.’

Thanks, Nique
, I thought.

‘She sounds pretty,’ Sarah commented. ‘Is she pretty?’

I knew there was no right answer. I gave the rightest one I could think of, with the added bonus that it was the truth. ‘Not as pretty as you.’

She tossed her head and her eyes flashed dangerously. ‘Dammit, Sean!’ she said, throwing her hands up in frustration. ‘How the hell am I supposed to know what to think? I like you. I really like you. You’re funny and thoughtful and I’m ragingly attracted to you, but the surprises are coming a little too thick.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said sincerely. ‘I’m not trying to deceive you. I really like you. The last thing I want to do is screw this up.’

‘I really want to believe that,’ she shook her head. ‘I do. It’s just that I think to myself, finally, after all the jerks, all the posers, all the guys who just get theirs then roll over and fall asleep, I finally meet a guy who’s actually
read books
. Who can have an intelligent conversation, and cook and make me laugh and make love to me so my legs don’t stop shaking for two days, and I’m walking on air. Then I find out the great guy I’m so excited about is a fugitive with magical powers who’s being chased by knife-wielding, teleporting drug dealers, and spends twenty four hours a week in a truck with a girl with a phone sex voice and a stripper name... so, yeah, I’m a little fucking upset.’

She paused for a moment, breathing heavily. ‘Why did you have to run off so suddenly on Monique the other night?’ she asked with a trace of venom.

‘That was the night I invited you to go for drinks with some of the gang from work. I wanted to show you off. I took off early after we found out that a girl from admitting at the hospital got beat up. I realized that she had given me the info on Doors. The fact that you were digging for info for me on line made me worry that you might be in danger. I ran out suddenly and never explained leaving because I was so horrified at the thought of someone hurting you.’

She stood silent for a few heartbeats, then sniffed. ‘Oh, shit.’ Her lip began to tremble. ‘I’m sorry.’ Her body started to shake with sobs. ‘I didn’t know.’

I limped over to her, put my arms around her shaking shoulders and pulled her close.

‘It’s alright,’ I said softly. ‘It’s all my fault. I had no idea how bad this would get.’

She shuddered with sobs for a while, muttering, ‘It’s just too much. I’m sorry, but it’s too much.’

My own eyes welled with tears. I just held her and rocked her while my heart sank at the thought of losing her. The cynical part of my brain tried to make the point that this is what came of honesty, but that was only half of it. She had gotten beaten up before I’d opened up. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the start. I’m sorry you were ever in danger. You mean the world to me, and I will move mountains to keep you safe and stay by you.’

‘You mean that?’ she asked at length, when she had cried it out.

‘I do. I just want to be with you and keep you safe.’

‘And you’re not sleeping with any tramps from the ambulance?’

‘Not a one. Nique is my partner, and a good friend. We depend on one another, and we’re close, but I promise you, there is absolutely nothing sexual. And there never was.’

‘You really want to be here with a boring old professor and not run off with the French paramedic with the bimbo voice?’

‘You’re hardly boring, my sweet. If I’d met more professors like you, I’d have stuck around and earned a few degrees. All I want is to hold you and cook for you and make you laugh and all the rest.’

‘You’re not forgetting the part about making my legs shake, right?’ she mumbled into my shoulder.

‘I’m not forgetting that part.’

‘Because that’s a very important part.’

‘It’s one of my favorites,’ I assured her.

‘So you want to spend your life with me?’ She pulled her head back to look up at me.

‘I do.’

‘Your freakish, unnatural, immortal life?’ She smiled. It was a small smile, but just then it was like the sun breaking through the clouds.

‘Every bit of it. I just want to not grow old with you.’

‘I’m gonna hold you to that,’ she warned.

‘So long as you hold me to this,’ I replied, giving her a squeeze.

‘Oh, double entendres,’ she said. ‘Be still my heart.’

She kissed me then, lightly at first, then with an increasing intensity, a passion with an underlying desperation. She clearly didn’t want to let go, and in view of her earlier concerns, she probably needed reassurance that she turned me on.

There are times, I reflected, when you need to man up and prove a point, injured or not.

I returned her kiss, running my good hand through her hair, and wrapped my other arm around her waist, squeezing her with my forearm and stroking the small of her back with just my fingertips. Fortunately, I still had the brace on my wrist.

I maintained the embrace as I steered her toward the bedroom, which allowed me to lean on her a bit to spare my ankle, and to pass off my wincing and gasps of pain as animal passion.

Only slightly distracted by my injuries, I did my best to reassure her that she held the prized position of object of my lust. That was one thing I didn’t have to fake, at least.

Afterwards, I held her close for a long time, and not just for her. With the warmth of her soft curves tight against me, I could forget the pain, the gnawing fear, the bafflement of not knowing my next move. I was, if only for a moment, happy and safe and... home.

Chapter 26

SARAH FELL ASLEEP PRETTY QUICKLY, but the throbbing in my wrist and the cramping of my ribs with every breath, as well as the racing of my thoughts, kept me awake. I eventually gave up, slid out from the covers and made my way to the living room.

I lurched to the liquor cabinet, poured a stiff measure and sat for a while, trying to figure my current situation.

Fuck
, I summed up. That seemed to do it.

I was outnumbered, outgunned, out-resourced in every meaningful way. Doors and his minions knew more about me than I did, and if they had done a lousy job of tracking me down so far, their luck had to change sooner or later. Even if they didn’t know exactly which door to kick in to find me right at the moment, they knew enough about my job and my contacts that it was only a matter of time.

Hell, after my little visit, they might just start kicking in any door with the vaguest connection to me and work from there.

I was hiding out with a broken wrist, a sprained ankle, and no plan at all. They had an organization of heavily armed, if unimaginative, thugs, at least some of whom could walk through walls.

I had friends who were all I could hope for on an ambulance call, and a beautiful blonde who had, admittedly, helped me plan a moderately successful burglary. But they were hardly a team of killers, and just knowing me put them in danger. Doors and his thugs were willing to hurt people to find me. It was only a matter of time before they got around to my partners.

Maybe the best thing for everyone would be if I disappeared.

No. Doors and his men would still go after Sarah and Nique and Pete and all the rest, even if I didn’t tell anything he could use. They were his best leads, and they’d suffer.

Shit, shit,
shit
.

Fighting was unrealistic, running was no good and I doubted I could talk my way out of this one. I felt paralyzed.

For one brief, frightening moment, I very uncharacteristically considered walking into Doors’ office and going out in a blaze of glory, like a short-handed Butch and Sundance, just to spare my friends. I hope that was just the drink talking.

I heard Sarah walking around the bedroom. I decided if she needed me badly enough, she’d find me.

She did. She came up behind me and put her arms around my neck. ‘Thinking?’

‘Making an effort,’ I replied. ‘I’ve gotten as close as “drinking”, which at least rhymes.’

‘I may have an idea,’ she breathed, kissing me on the side of my neck.

‘While that seems like a good idea, I was hoping for a solution to our current life-threatening problem.’

‘Conrad,’ she muttered in my ear.

‘It’s Sean, my sweet,’ I replied. ‘I expected it to take longer for you to start calling me by the wrong name.’

‘
Joseph
Conrad,’ she elaborated. ‘Ever read any of his stuff?’

‘Just
Heart of Darkness
.’

‘He wrote a short story you might like,’ she smiled. ‘About a duel between two of Napoleon’s officers. It’s called
The Duel
, originally enough. Take a look and see if it gives you any ideas.’

‘I’ll keep an eye out for it.’

‘Or,’ she handed me some pages, ‘you could read this copy I just printed off the Net.’

OK,
I reflected,
maybe we have an entry in the column against dating English professors.

‘Pirating intellectual property?’ I asked with a grin. ‘Shocking lapse in professional ethics.’

‘Eh,’ she shrugged. ‘It’s not like Conrad needs the dough. You look that over and see if you think that’s something that might work. I’m going to do some more digging through our friends’ files.’

As she left, I read through what she had printed. I didn’t expect great things. I had served with a lot of Napoleon’s officers and, as a group, they weren’t known for subtlety. Brave and dumb got one further than clever in those days, which is one reason I tried to stay off on my own as much as possible.

It turned out I was wrong. Conrad came up with a solution that could just be twisted to my situation. I’d need some more leverage, but maybe there was more in the files Sarah had. I chuckled, heaved myself out of my chair and made my way to the other room. Sarah was still at the computer, sifting through the stolen files for details.

‘So,’ she said, turning at my approach, ‘you think that might work?’

‘In theory, it’s brilliant,’ I replied. ‘In practice, I just have to beat this guy in a fair fight, crippled though I am.’

‘You still have a few moves in you,’ she smirked. ‘And I’ve seen you fight. You’re scary.’

‘I just project the abject terror I’m feeling,’ I explained. ‘But you’ve probably come up with the solution we were looking for.’

‘I do my best.’

I had a thought. ‘Hey, is there anything in those files about his fencing? I saw a photo of him in his gear and some medals.’

She handed me another printed sheet, ‘
Voila
.’

‘You even know I’d rather read hard copy than a screen,’ I marvelled. ‘How have I survived this long without you?’

‘Well, most old guys like hard copy.’ She grinned. ‘But I’m surprised by how
much
I’m having to pick up the slack on the whole thinking half of the game.’

‘That’s because you have a PhD and I just have lots of low, animal cunning.’ I replied. ‘Honestly, I think I’m just starting to lean on you because you’re that much smarter than I am.’ I started to look over the pages, ‘Too bad we didn’t have you during the Russian campaign.’ Not that Napoleon would have listened. Or even Ney. Travis? Not a chance. MacArthur? Unlikely. Vandegrift would have. It occurred to me that a defining trait of leaders who got us into an unwinnable mess was the inability to listen.

I spent the ensuing day reading and resting. Healing.

Bob came back late in the afternoon and we had a pleasant meal, unmarred by me saying anything stupid. I made the trip upstairs with only minor difficulty.

Things were looking brighter.

Chapter 27

A BRIGHT LIGHT IN THE DRIVEWAY woke me in the dead of the night. I looked out and didn’t see Bob’s truck.

I shook Sarah awake.

‘Get dressed and ready to move,’ I whispered. ‘Somebody’s here.’

She nodded and reached for her clothes without question.

That gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling that I might have chosen well. I winced as I laced up my ankle brace and my wrist splint, then dragged on some pants, a thick, dark green sweater and my shoes. I dug out my .45 and tucked it in my waistband, then fumbled in the drawer and found Bob’s Browning. I quickly loaded a magazine and chambered a round.

We eased downstairs and out into the kitchen. Like most people who live in the woods, Bob seldom locked his doors, but the bright motion activated security lights were on outside, spilling a pool of illumination through the windows onto the pine planks of the kitchen floor.