Bone Walker (6 page)

Jake pushed Carson behind him, and never mind that his partner was significantly larger than he was. Once he'd done that, Jake's human form melted away in a blur of color and light, until he stood before the other man in fox shape. He was huge for a fox, almost wolf-sized, and he stood with white hackles raised and white teeth bared, snarling.

Christopher covered me, both physically and magically. Unlike Carson, though, I was equipped to help. I seized Christopher's hand and threw him a current of my own young magic, bolstered not only by the blood-born link between us, but also by the simple fact that I was a resident of Seattle. As far as the Warder magic was concerned, I was a sublimely powerful source of strength.

The thing cut a wild swath through my living room, shattering the blown-glass vase atop one of my stereo speakers and the picture of my Aunt Aggie and me on the wall. The steadfast wall of Christopher's power sent it veering off on another tangent. Jake's shining-furred form was enough of a threat to make it veer again—straight to Jude. Millicent dove at her, but not in time. The smoky, glowing shape reached my friend first. It caught her directly between the eyes and immediately vanished on impact.

As I let out a shriek, as both the Warders dove to her side, Jude's eyes went round. She lifted a hand to her head.

And then, without warning or a single word, she collapsed.

We allowed ourselves one, maybe two seconds of shocked reaction.
Then Jake moved, blurring so quickly back up to human shape that it seemed he was a fox one moment and human again the next. He threw himself down to his knees at Jude's side and was checking her over even before he hit the floor.

Millicent took Jude's other side, kneeling as well, far quicker than I'd ever have expected of a woman in her eighties. Her power was still high and her expression grim as she blanketed my fallen friend with it—searching, I guessed, for some sign of the thing that'd just disappeared into her.

“What just happened?” I wailed.

“She's breathing,” Jake reported. “Pulse is strong.”

Ignoring us both, Millicent planted both her palms on Jude's chest. Her weathered face screwed up into a grimace of profound effort, and her entire body braced as though she were fighting to lift a burden far larger than herself up off the floor. Christopher leaped to join her, not touching either her or Jude, though he didn't need to. His magic was still united with the older Warder's, and as one, they homed that unified energy in on Jude's sprawled form.

“Goddamned thing got away from me,” Millicent barked. “Where the hell did you go, you little bastard? Get out of her!”

It would have been wiser to let the Warders and Jake handle the situation, but I couldn't stand by without trying to help. I pushed past Christopher, and as I seized Jude's nearest hand, I reached out with my power to try to find the ghostly intruder myself.

“Girl, what in God's name do you think you're doing?”

“I can take it, Millie! Jude can't!”

My voice broke, but I didn't care. This was just the cherry on top of the sundae of suck that had started the minute Christopher and I had had to leave the concert. Bad enough that had happened, worse that it'd been all for the Unseelie who'd caused us so much trouble before.

But now, Jude threatened?

Not happening. Not if I could help it.

I joined my magic to that of the Warders, and between us, we dove headlong into the life energy that was Jude Lawrence, looking for any trace of the invader. Visually there was nothing to see, just the subliminal haze that was power in a fully lit room, and Jude lying unconscious before us all. Magically, I could feel exactly what Jake had described. Her heart still beat without faltering. Her blood still flowed, full of vital health. But her nerves were overloaded, firing off with far too many impulses for one person's body to contain, and that was the only physical sign I could find that anything was wrong with her at all. The sense of hollowness I'd felt from Elessir—and the cold hunger of the thing when it'd reared up out of him and turned its head to me—was nowhere to be found.

Then her heart rate practically doubled, revved up by the combined rush of my power, Christopher's, and Millicent's, and Jake snapped out in urgent tones, “Stop it, all of you! You're too much for her!”

Millie retreated instantly, whipping her hands and her magic back at the same time. Christopher, not nearly as practiced as she, pulled back with less grace. I didn't back off at all until Carson grabbed my shoulders and pulled me backwards, not hard, but with an insistence that would not be denied. “You heard Jake, kiddo. Give her some space. Let her breathe.”

“What's wrong with her?” I shouted. “Didn't you see it? Didn't you see it get her?”

“I saw it.” Which of course was no surprise—Carson was the partner of a
kitsune
, after all, and had been seeing strange things while I'd still worn my hair in pigtails—but I needed the reminder nonetheless.

“Millie, what in God's name was it?” Christopher asked.

Slowly, with reluctance, the aura of magic in the room began to ebb. Millicent rolled back onto her heels and then hauled herself to her feet, stiffly enough that it actually showed her age. With a stab of extra guilt I included her in my overall worry. She looked mortally offended, but she also looked worn out, not to mention
old
. What had she just done in my bedroom, and how much had it taken out of her? She drew in a deep breath and then huffed it out again.

“Damned if I know, boy. I haven't felt anything like it in all my days. Best I could tell is that it felt like it might have been Sidhe—once.”

What it was didn't seem nearly as vital to me as finding it and yanking it out of Jude, if it was still inside her. I opened my mouth to say so. But then Jude stirred, just as Jake was trying to lever her up off the floor. Every one of us snapped our eyes back to her.

“Jesus,” she mumbled. “What… what just happened?”

“
Chica
, how are you feeling?” I pulled forward from Carson's grasp and forced myself not to crowd her.

“A little dizzy. Did I fall down?”

“You did,” Jake informed her, in that firmly earnest tone he always used when he was in EMT mode. “Do you feel anything else wrong? Do you remember the date? What you were doing?”

“It's Saturday… October…” She trailed off on the actual date, but that was close enough for Jake and me alike. “I'm… I'm on Kendis' floor.”

“Do you know what you were doing just now?” Jake pressed.

Jude opened her mouth, closed it, and then finally shook her head, color draining from her face. “Last thing I remember, Millie, Christopher and Ken were all going in her room.”

Stricken, I glanced round at the others. Carson and Christopher looked ill at ease, but they were watching Jake and Millicent for cues—and it was Millicent who finally proclaimed, patting Jude's dark hair, “It's okay, honey, you might have just clonked your head a bit. I don't think she should be driving anywhere, Jake, do you?”

“Absolutely not. Carson, help me get her to the couch.”

My housemates helped Jude upright slowly, in stages. I arranged the cushions and pillows so the boys could lay her down as comfortably as possible, and then I edged back out of the way. “What're we going to do, Millie?” I murmured sidelong to her, nodding in trepidation back towards my bedroom door. “I mean, about…?”

“He's asleep. Fainted right after—” Millicent caught herself, scowled all over again, and shrugged. “Well, after. We'll deal with him, but not right now.” More loudly, she appended, “Jake, is she okay or what?”

“I'm fine,” Jude warbled.

Jake met Millie's eyes, and I needed no words to read the look that passed between them—or to guess that my housemate couldn't answer the question she was really asking, not while Jude could hear. “As far as I can tell she's all right, no worse than if she'd just gotten up too fast,” he said cautiously. “I'd like to keep an eye on her though.”

“But I need to go home—”

“No.” I stepped back to the couch. “No. Please, babe. Rest here tonight. We'll all feel better if you do.”

“She can have our hide-a-bed,” Carson offered. “Since, ah, Kendis may be needing her couch.”

Jude's brow crinkled. “Why can't she…
oh
.” She glanced towards my bedroom, recollection sparking in her eyes, which gave me a modicum of relief. “Right. Can I at least wash my face and stuff?”

“I have a big T-shirt you can sleep in,” I said, turning to the hallway and then pausing again to ask Millie, “Um. Can I?” Translation: was it safe to set foot into my own bedroom?

“It should be okay, girlie. But don't linger.”

Gratefully I bobbed my head at her and crept back down the hall. Christopher came after me, and I took his hand, consoled by his presence. No telltale power met us at my bedroom door. Everything seemed at peace, and Fort had even retreated ahead of us into the room in his kitty bid to escape the excitement in the living room. He stood watch on the bed now, fur less puffed and tail less agitated, though his gaze was no less baleful as he stared at Elessir's unmoving form.

The Unseelie was indeed asleep, more peacefully than before. He still looked like reconstituted hell, with eyes so ringed by shadow they seemed practically bruised, yet his face had lost a certain subtle strain and more color had stolen into his cheeks.

“He looks a little better,” I murmured.

“If that thing's gotten out of him, that's probably why.”

Despite his ominous tone I couldn't argue with Christopher, since I was right there with him on that particular train of thought. As I entered the room, worry churned in my belly at the notion of Jude looking similarly stricken. The Sidhe on my bed didn't stir, not even when I reached my dresser and yanked open a drawer to fetch a couple of oversized T-shirts for Jude and me. Everything in the drawer was richly, brightly hued, even garments I'd bought years ago, and smelled of lavender and roses—I hadn't had to do a single load of laundry since the brownies had moved in and started repairing everything I owned. Right then, the smell gave me no consolation. I set my jaw and blinked rapidly, trying to clear my sight, but moisture prickled anyway at my eyes.

Christopher stopped me at the door, once more grasping my shoulders. “She may be okay,” he said, very softly. “We'll take care of it, you and Millie and I.” Then his gaze dropped to the shirts I held, and to my surprise, a hint of red darkened his cheeks.

“What?”

“I'm just thinking, lass… I haven't seen what you sleep in before now.”

It was true. Whether it was because he was a Warder, from Newfoundland, or simply just
Christopher
I wasn't quite sure, but for a young man of our day and age, he was very old-school in his relationship with me. He'd spent many of his waking hours with me in the last two months, sure—but none of his sleeping ones, not since those first few nights after we'd met. Whenever the hour had grown too late, he'd always headed back to his little boarding house room in the U-district despite my dropping hints that he was more than welcome to warm my bed any time he wanted. In fact, I'd planned on dropping another one of those hints after the concert.

“Well, looks like you get to see what I sleep in tonight, big guy. Not that it's much different than what you usually see me in.” I plucked at one of the shirts, a tie-dyed thing two sizes too big for me, which I'd picked up from the local farmers' market. “And, ah… we'll need to figure out where you'll sleep too.”

Christopher brightened for the first time since we'd bailed on the show, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That couch of yours has served us well enough before,” he rumbled. Then he sobered. “But I'd best not sleep yet. Millie's tired. One of us should be awake in case something else happens.”

His meaningful look in the direction of my bed signified his opinion on the likely source of any further trouble well enough. I had to admit he had a point. “Can you handle staying awake awhile?” My worry, not content with the targets it had already had this evening, whirled right back around to latch on to him.

“The city can sustain me for a little while if need be.” Christopher lifted a hand to my cheek. “But you should sleep if you can. It's getting late.”

“I'd rather stay up with you.”

A broader smile warmed Christopher's face at that, and he leaned in to brush a kiss along my brow and lips. “Then keep me company, Kenna-lass,” he whispered, “and play me sweet airs on your fiddle.”

It would have taken much more than that to bring us back to the giddy cheer of only a few hours ago. That lilting rasp, though, did much to soothe my agitation. I hugged him close and breathed in his scent, sharp and alive, still laced with the adrenaline of the show and everything else that had come after. I felt his heart beating at the core of him, a steady, ceaseless rhythm that even now picked up a bit at our embrace. And his magic, the rich and living magic that bound him to the city in which we lived—that bound him to
me
—wrapped around me with a warmth as palpable as his arms.

I couldn't have asked for better comfort. Hoping to return it in kind, I pulled his head down and kissed him for several long moments; then, regretfully, I pulled back and looked up into his eyes. “I will,” I promised. “Come on. The others are waiting.”

There wasn't much to do after that, all told. I turned off the light in my bedroom and almost pulled the door shut, but changed my mind as I realized that we'd need to be able to hear if Elessir awoke. One small sympathetic part of me wondered too if it would disturb him to waken alone in the dark.

Jude kept a game face on, so I couldn't really tell if she was feeling off at all. She hugged me in thanks for the extra T-shirt and the spare toothbrush I brought her and then followed Jake and Carson into their half of the house to claim their hide-a-bed. Millicent tagged along, drawling as they went, “I'll share the bed with the girlie. I daresay those two deserve a few moments to themselves.” She jabbed a finger towards Christopher, though, and added, “Boy, you wake me up at the first sign of trouble if I ain't already coming.”