Page 69 of Curses & Keys
An hour later, the door opens again, but this time, Gatlin walks through, lips compressed and brow furrowed.
“How is he?” he asks, dropping into a nearby chair.
“Should be awake soon,” I assure him. “How did it go?”
A muscle tics in his jaw. “Later.” He glances at the window. “I tried to get rid of the guard, but the asshole told me he only listens to the council.” His eyes drift from the guard to Jamison, silently telling me we need to move him soon.
“Hmm,” I reply, agreeing with him. “I haven’t found them yet. I’ve got several programs running, but nothing has popped.”
Jamison opens his eyes. “Phaedra and Hawthorne?”
His hand reaches out, and he pushes the button to raise the bed so he can sit up.
“Nothing,” I tell him, watching as the guard angles his head closer to the window. “They’ve disappeared.” I lean in close. “We need to get out of here. How are you feeling?”
He grimaces. “Like a damn bomb exploded in front of me. Everything hurts.” He glances from me to Gatlin. “But you’re right. What’s the plan?”
Gatlin raises an eyebrow. “Can you stand?”
Jamison’s face fills with determination. “Let’s see, shall we?” He shoves the covers back and slowly swivels his legs off the bed until they’re dangling against the side.
I reach out to help, but he pushes my hand away. Sliding his feet down to the floor, he takes a deep breath and tries to stand, but his legs crumble with the slightest weight. Thankfully, I’m there to catch him and get him back in bed.
He exhales. “Fuck. Got any other ideas?”
I exchange a glance with Gatlin. “I’ve got a few ideas. Stay with him. I’ll be back in a minute.” Leaving the room, I walk past the guard without acknowledging him. Down the hall, I ask the nurse for a wheelchair. She points to the supply closet in the hall. I grab one, remove my glasses, and head back to the room.
As I near the door, the guard stops me. “He can’t leave.”
I raise my head and stare into his eyes. “We’re going to leave with Jamison, and you’re not going to stop us. In fact, you’re going to continue to see us every time you look in the room. You will not raise an alarm or call anyone. Now, tell me, when is the next guard relieving you?”
His eyes are fixed on mine. “At midnight.”
Five hours. “Ten minutes before midnight, you will go to the restroom on the first floor. At twelve ten, you will return to your post. Got it.”
He nods. “Yes, sir.”
I pat him on the back and put my glasses back on. “Good job.” Wheeling the chair into the room, I position it by the bed. “Let’s go.”
Gatlin gathers Jamison’s things while I help him into the chair.
“I’ll go first and scout for any other guards. If we get separated, my truck is on the third floor of the parking garage. Here are the keys.” He opens the door and signals “all clear.”
Once we leave, he strides ahead to make sure the path is clear. It takes us about fifteen minutes to get to the truck. Jamison gets in the back and lies down across the seat, clothes bunched up to cushion his head. Gatlin and I jump into the front.
“Where to?” he asks, turning on the vehicle.
“Three,” I tell him.
Years ago, Jamison set up ten safe houses under shell companies. Even then, he didn’t trust the council to always have our backs, and he wanted to be sure we had a few boltholes in case things went bad or we had to hide a suspect. Once we reach “three,” we a portal to access “four.”
Carrying Jamison into the living room, I prop him up on the couch. Sweat beads on his stark white face. The brackets around his eyes and mouth deepen with every movement.
With a deep sigh, he eases into the cushions. “Status.”
“Nothing on Hawthorne or Phaedra,” I begin, sitting across from him and opening my laptop. I go on to update them both on my theory about the two groups and their affiliations with the vampires and mages.
Jamison asks to see the footage of the condo, and once he sees the wavering cameras and the brown dress shoes, he agrees with my assessment. “Which means my father’s involved in this mess.” He rubs a hand down his face.
