Sentinel: A Light Mage Wars Novella (The Light Mage Wars) (8 page)

"
Longer than that. I let them, but I need to make my own way now. So you stand down. Got me?"

"
Yeah." Grudgingly, he added, "I get it, Shrimp. But you call me if he puts a toe out of line."

"
I promise." But only if she didn't manage to stomp any intrusive toes on her own. Of course she had qualms, but Rick had been so supportive, so helpful. What was the harm in enjoying his company for a while?

"
I gotta go," Will said. "We have third-graders coming into the archives this morning, and I need another couple of jolts of caffeine to keep up with them."

"
Good luck with that."

"
Thanks. And remember, you can always call me."

They disconnected.
Caro gently laid her hand on the silk she was weaving. The varied blues of the abstract ocean pattern didn't draw her in the way they would've moments before.

Will
had been overprotective ever since Griff vanished, but he had a point. She'd been with other decent, appealing guys who'd turned out to have agendas. She would have to be sure where she stood with Rick, not let things move too quickly, like she had before.

Li
ve and learn
was all well and good, but it wasn't much help unless you acted on what you learned
.

#

The deputies were filtering back into the clearing. One, a slender woman, stopped near Rick and Jason. She faced the woods, but her brown eyes flicked toward them, then away.

Rick
and Jason exchanged a glance. Idly shooting, Jason meandered toward the medical helo. Rick crossed his arms and watched Jason. Now they would see whether she wanted to talk to one of them.

After a m
oment, she strolled toward Rick. He thought she would walk past him, but she paused. "Thanks for what you did out there, stepping in to save Roberts. It took guts. None of us thought a reporter would risk his ass for a reeve."

Rick
nodded his appreciation. "It was the right thing to do." But her words didn't explain the uncertainty lurking in the depths of her eyes.

She pulled off her helmet, revealing sh
ort, sweat-matted, brown hair. Running a hand through it, she glanced uneasily at him. "Go grab us a bottle of water each, would you?"

He complied.
When he returned, she was sitting under a tree. "Open it for me. If anyone asks, you're hitting on me."

"
Okay." He opened the bottle and handed it to her, hunkering down beside her at a polite distance. "Why am I picking this very unromantic moment to hit on you?"

She took a deep breath and blew it out, then
gulped a big swallow of water. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she said, "When I reported this three years ago, nobody cared. It still bothers me, though."

Three years ago?
As in, when Griffin Dare went rogue?
"I'm listening."

"
What you did out there makes me think maybe I can trust you. That you'll maybe act on this at some point. You quote me, though, and I'll hunt you down." She shot him a flirty look through her eyelashes and took another gulp.

Rick grinned for
the benefit of any onlookers. "We're off the record officially. I won't even mention you. Wouldn't, even if I knew your name."

Flashing a twinkly smile at him, she quietly said,
"I was on the last raid Griffin Dare led. I was hurt, half out of it, when I overheard him and Corin Jacobs talking by the medical helo door."

Corin Jacobs had been Dare
's close friend and chief deputy, then his replacement as shire reeve, and finally his victim. "Go on," Rick said softly. He sipped water, watching her.

Despite
her smile, she looked haunted. "I don't think they meant anyone to hear, but they were rocked. We all were."

"
Because of the casualties," he said softly. The losses that day had been staggering.

She flicked
him a glance in confirmation. "I'd never seen Dare look rattled, but that day, he was in shock."

Rick waited, sipping water and watching the
deputy reeves straggle back into the clearing.

"
Here's the thing," she continued, her smile a painful contrast to her grim report. "They were saying how no one but the two of them and the Council knew the destination of that strike force. Yet the nest had more than twice as many ghouls as it should've."

"
I read the report," he told her. The smile on his face felt vile when they discussed such a tragedy. And wasn't it interesting that there were more ghouls than expected present today, too?

"
They were sure we'd been betrayed," she murmured. "Then they walked away. The doors were shut, the helos started up, and I couldn't hear anything else."

Thoughtfully, he said,
"The official version is that Dare betrayed you all and killed Milt Althor, the Chief Councilor, to cover his tracks."

She shook her head.
"Nobody who fought beside him buys that, not really. Not that there are many of us left." With a grimace, she added, "He just wouldn't. Besides, smart as he was, if he'd betrayed us, there would've been nothing to point to it."

There actually
had been
nothing to point to such a thing, not until Dare had blown Althor away. But she'd given Rick something to think about.

"
Why are you telling me this?" Rick smiled and winked at her to maintain the illusion of flirting before he took a sip of his water.

"
Dare saved my life once," she said, pushing to her feet. "Let's just call it payback. And now we'll call this you striking out."

As the exhausted deputy walked toward a helo, Ri
ck considered what she'd said. He'd thought this trip was a bust, but she'd given him an important tip. If she was telling the truth, many of Dare's surviving deputies didn't buy the party line.

What if Griffin Dare had been right about Althor?

That wouldn't excuse the way he'd handled things, the people who'd died as a result, but still...what if Dare had been right and all the official accounts were wrong?

Chapter
Eight

I should never have agreed to this
. The thought kept running through Caro's head as Rick drove toward the roadhouse the night after her demonstration. Her stomach was in knots, and her breath seemed to hitch somewhere behind her breastbone. A club in the city was bad enough, but a roadhouse...didn't that imply rowdy people? Bad music?

Or were her horizons really too narrow, as Jerald had claimed
? Being an ass in general didn't make him always wrong. Besides, she liked Rick, and she wanted to share the things he enjoyed.

"
This'll be fine, Sunshine." Rick's hand covered hers in her lap. He let her feel his sincerity. "If it isn't, we're out of here. I promise."

"
You probably think I'm a weenie," she blurted.

"
No way." When he stroked his thumb across the back of her hand, awareness of him zinged through her, raising bubbles of desire deep in her belly.

He added,
"One thing I've learned from being around you just this little while is the importance of organization. You know how to get to the coffee shop and back. How to move around the gallery. But you use your cane for that. If you couldn't, how would you know where you were?"

"
You do understand." The surprise and pleasure of that welled up in her throat and made her smile.

"
Don't sound so shocked." His cheerful tone implied he was grinning. So did the light, teasing vibe she sensed through his touch.

He
linked their fingers and raised her hand to his lips. The kiss he pressed on the back of it shot heat up her arm. Caro's fingers tightened on Rick's.

"
We'll have a great evening." His voice had the husky shading that heated her blood. He squeezed her hand as he put it back in her lap. When he released her, he let his fingertips slide over her palm.

Caro bit her lip to stop a gasp.
Her nipples contracted, tingling, and she swallowed hard.

It would be
so easy to let things go too far with him. She had to get hold of herself, find her equilibrium. Her caution.

The car turned right.
Gravel crunched under the wheels. Rick made a couple of other turns and cut the engine.

"
Here we are," he said. "I recommend the chicken stew. It's amazing."

"
Sounds good." At least she managed a relaxed tone, no small feat when desire still sizzled in her blood. She fumbled for the door handle.

"
Sit tight. I'll get it." Rick opened his door, letting in a whiff of cool night air.

Muffled music also rode the breeze, fainter once he s
hut his door. Caro couldn't hear the melody, or even the bass line, clearly. Maybe it wouldn't be loud enough to bother her inside.

He opened her door.
"You probably already figured out from the sounds that we have a gravel parking lot."

In the magic, she caught his outline standing to the side so she could leave the car on her own.
Caro unfolded her cane and stood. Finding Rick's elbow had become easy. Maybe too easy.

"
Unpainted, wood shingle walls and a tin roof, red," he added, leading her onto a concrete walkway. "And we're at the door. I'll get it."

A hinge squeaked
. Hot air and a driving beat rolled over Caro's senses. At least the air wasn't smoky. It smelled of fried chicken and hot bread, homey scents. Fiddles wove around and through the drums and guitar in a country rock beat.

"
We're going to our right," Rick told her, raising his voice a little, "along the line of booths on this wall and the next, to the last one. One left turn on the way."

"
Got it." She nodded.

They made it to the booth without a problem.
As they sat, footsteps and a cheerful swirl of Mundane life energy approached.

"
Evenin', y'all," said a woman's cigarette-roughened voice. "Rick, it's been too long since we seen you."

"
It sure has. DeAnne, this is Caroline."

Caro extended her right hand.
"Hi."

"
Good to meet you." A slim, work-roughened hand grasped hers for a quick, firm shake.

Caro caught the woman
's friendly curiosity as DeAnne asked, "Can I start you folks off with somethin' from the bar?"

"
Caro?" Rick courteously deferred to her.

"
What do you have on tap?"

DeAnne replied,
"The usual big names and a nice local ale name of Screamer."

Caro grinned.
"You gotta love something with a name like that. I'll have a Screamer."

"
Two," Rick said.

DeAnne told them she
'd be right back and hurried away.

"
What does she look like?" Caro asked.

"
Thin, five three and fifty-something with puffy blond hair, a light, perpetual tan, and brown eyes." He paused. "Is that enough, or do I need more detail?"

"
No, that gives me an image. Thanks."

Rick took Caro
's hand on the tabletop. Her heart kicked, and she took a slow, deep breath to steady it.

"
So we're good," he said. "Since you ordered something."

"
So far." She should slide her hand free, but it felt so good in his. The desire humming between them in the contact added another enticement.

So did the music.
It had become jaunty. Fun.

"
Here we are, folks," DeAnne announced. Two glasses clunked lightly on the table. "Y'all ready to order?"

"
I hear the chicken stew is amazing," Caro said.

"
My mama's recipe." Pride echoed in DeAnne's words.

"
I'll have that, please," Caro requested.

Rick added,
"For two. With a side of the jalapeño cornbread."

"
You got it."

Rick thanked
DeAnne. As she walked away, her footsteps, along with her energetic presence, faded.

Something slid
across the tabletop as Rick said, "Your beer's at two o'clock, Sunshine."

"
Thanks, Dudley."

Rick sighed heavily.
"I looked up that cartoon. The guy's kind of a joke."

"
But sweet. And honorable."

"
I guess." Although he grumbled the words, they carried a faint undertone of satisfaction. "I meant to tell you I tried giving Max Grant an ally, like you suggested. That seems to be working. She's his sister, but he doesn't know it."

"
His sister helped him?" Was that a reference to herself and Griff, or was she just way too wary anymore?

"
She did. The relationship is still evolving. But now let's drink to your success. The editor at
Georgia Arts Monthly
loved the piece. The teaser on their website already has several hundred hits."

"
Really? That's...amazing." Her grin stretched so widely that her face hurt.

"
It's deserved. So let's drink to it."

Caro lifted her glass.
"And to the man who made it happen."

"
It was my pleasure." Rick clinked his glass to hers.

Caro
sipped her ale. "It's good. Light and crisp with a bit of apple in there."

"
Here I had you pegged for a white wine drinker," he teased.

"
I am. Also red wine, blush wines, and all sorts of other things."

Bringing up a touchy subject might spoil this light, fun mood, but she
'd been wondering about him in odd moments. Maybe their current, easy rapport would encourage him to open up.

"
What is it?" he asked. "You're frowning like your ale went bad all of a sudden."

"
It's not that." Caro ran her hand down the cool glass. "Rick, will you tell me about life in Birmingham?"

"
There's not much to tell," he said uneasily.

Maybe she shouldn
't have started this. Having opened the subject, however, she would see it through. "You know so much more about me than I do about you. I'd like to know how it was for you, growing up, and what gave you this burning need to fight injustice."

Rick said nothing
, and he'd shut down his emotions. She caught no sense of his feelings, no hint of his mood. Her magic couldn't give her the precise outline of his body, but she would bet it was tense.

At last, he leaned forward.
"My dad drank himself to death when I was twelve. We moved from Chicago to Birmingham, Alabama, to live with my uncle. My mom's brother. Who never let us forget what a big favor he'd done us."

"
I'm so sorry." Caro extended her hand, palm up. He took it and lifted it briefly to his lips. This time the
zing
made her heart skip a beat.

He lowered their joined hands to the table
. "Thanks, but a lot of people have it worse. Mom and Jenny, my sister, and I had a roof over our heads, food, all the necessities."

"
It's just the two of you and your mom?"

"
Yeah. Jenny and I are a team, y'know?"

Was that a lure or just an offhand remark?
Caro said nothing.

After a moment,
he continued, "Anyway, we both got jobs as soon as we were old enough. With work study, scholarships, and loans, we managed to swing college."

"
Where?"

"
Me at Alabama-Birmingham, Jenny at Auburn." His voice rang with pride as he added, "Even though she got a full ride, she worked. Graduated with honors. She's a promotions manager for an office supply chain now."

"
That's great. I admire people who can juggle so much and still do well."

No wonder he continued to freelance despite his last book hit
ting the
USA Today
extended list. He'd had too much experience with hard times to trust the good ones.

Was he like that about relationships
, too? Not that she had any room to talk. Besides, this wasn't really a relationship, no matter how tantalizing the light caress of his thumb over her fingers felt. This was a flirtation. Light. Short term.

Yeah, keep
telling yourself that.

His silence had a brooding quality
. She could wait, though. Her father said waiting was an effective tactic because most people felt a need to fill a conversational void.

"
Mom wasn't the same after Dad died," Rick admitted. "She still isn't. We moved in with my uncle because she thought I might do better with a man around. Quote, unquote. Not her fault it didn't work out that way."

"
You didn't get along with your uncle?" Caro asked.

"
No."

She let the answer hang, but he didn
't seem inclined to add anything. What he'd said was enough, anyway, for her to know his childhood had been much tougher than hers, blindness or no blindness.

After several moments, she asked,
"So what spurred this dislike of injustice?"

"
Besides Mom working two jobs and putting Dad's survivor benefits into the family pot, then Jenny and me chipping in, and that never satisfying my uncle?"

The words carried a bitter tinge
. Caro's heart twisted. Sometimes old wounds were the worst.

"
I'd really like to know what happened," she said gently.

"
You might as well," Rick muttered. "My dad found out someone he worked with, a mage who had a lot of Great Lakes Area Collegium connections, was dabbling in dark magic. He went to the shire reeve about it. Too bad Dad didn't know the reeve and this asshole were golfing buddies. They turned it around on Dad, blamed him for exaggerating. Hinted that maybe he'd done the dabbling."

"
Oh, Rick. I'm so sorry."

He
twined his fingers through hers. "Dad couldn't deal. He started drinking, then drank more. And more. And then...Well."

"
I guess the charges never went as far as putting this dark mage to the test? The auras around the examination chair would've supported your father."

"
They said he didn't have enough proof. Not that they bothered to look for any. The investigation was a sham."

"
You were twelve, and you remember all that?"

"
Yeah." He blew out a harsh breath. "So now you know the basics."