Spellcast (Maggie Graham Series) by Barbara Ashford

Author:Barbara Ashford [Ashford, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2011-05-02T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

STRONG WOMAN NUMBER

LEE INSISTED I SPEND THE NIGHT WITH THEM. I was too tired to argue.

Hal drove my car back to the hotel, while I rode with Lee in his pickup. Other than asking me if I was all right, we made the drive in silence.

That was easier to deal with than Hal’s nervous stream of conversation. While I threw a few clothes into my carryall, he apologized for the length of their shower and their failure to check messages as soon as they emerged, voiced his concern for Helen, and described their anxious drive to the theatre.

“When we saw the door hanging off its hinges … and Rowan shaking you … and your scared little face …”

“I wasn’t scared.”

Then. But now I was shaking.

“Lee’s got this protective thing. And you do not want to fuck with him when it clicks on. He gets quiet. Scary quiet. And when he got scary quiet tonight, I was sure he and Rowan were going to kill each other. I’m awful in those situations. I just stand there like a deer in the headlights. But you! My God. You were like … Bette Davis. Or Susan Hayward. Or—is that all you’re taking?”

“It’s only one night, Hal.”

When I followed them into their small bungalow a few miles out of town, I almost smiled. The simple but elegant furnishings of the living room reflected Lee’s tastes. The mink stole draped atop one of the bookcases clearly reflected Hal’s—as did the curio cabinet crammed with personal photographs, candles, small vases of dried flowers, music boxes, two silver goblets, and assorted figurines of naked male gods.

I excused myself to take a shower, explaining that I wanted to get out of my damp clothes. The dampness that bothered me most was the one in my panties. I didn’t need that little memento of the evening.

Yet in spite of my Olympic orgasm, I was more troubled by the Vulcan mind meld that had preceded it and Rowan’s Spock-like coldness afterward. The roller coaster of emotions had left me numb, but whenever I recalled that awful flood of memories, I started shaking again. Anger might have provided a safe refuge, but it required too much energy.

So did the effort to keep up a good front for the boys. Hal plied me with food and wine and more nervous conversation. Lee just watched me. It was hard to say which was more unnerving. After a half hour, I pleaded exhaustion and escaped into the spare room. I’d just crawled into bed when I heard a soft knock at the door.

Stifling a groan, I called out, “Come in.”

Lee walked in, one hand covering the mouthpiece of his portable phone. “It’s Reinhard. For you.”

I shrank deeper into the bedding.

“Just let him know you’re okay.”

Reluctantly, I accepted the phone. Lee walked out, closing the door behind him.

“Reinhard? How’s Helen?”

“Stable. She’s sleeping now.”

“Are they going to operate or …?”

“Her cardiologist wants to see how she responds to the medication first. What happened with Rowan?”

“Nothing.”

Silence. Then: “I’ll be there in half an hour.

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