Page 71 of Lion's Share
Sidney let out a breath. “No kidding. I’m just glad we got them to back off…for now, anyway.”
Ben slipped his arm around her shoulders, and some of the tension that had knotted his neck and shoulders over the past few minutes finally began to leave his body. The immediate threat was over, but he knew Sidney was right — this was just the beginning. Dr. Rosenthal definitely didn’t seem like the type to give up easily.
For now, though, they appeared to be safe.
“Come on,” Sidney said, taking his hand. “Let’s go back to my place. I think we could both use some sleep, but I don’t want to impinge on the Hendersons’ hospitality any longer. I doubt they were expecting to have a bunch of federal agents invade their property.”
No, probably not. In silence, they went inside the casita and gathered up their few belongings, then closed the door behind them. And although he wasn’t really looking forward to the long walk back to Sidney’s place, he knew they’d both sleep better there.
As they headed toward the trail that would lead them back to Sidney’s house, Ben caught a glimpse of lights in the main farmhouse windows. The Hendersons had wisely stayed inside during the confrontation, but he was sure they’d have questions in the morning.
Questions he and Sidney would have to answer very carefully.
But for now, it was good enough to know they might have a little peace.
Ahead of them, the forest settled into its ancient silence, keeping its secrets safe for another night.
Chapter Twenty-One
The coffee in my mug had gone cold a half hour ago, but I kept holding onto it anyway, grateful for something solid to anchor me to the real world. Almost eight hours had passed since our confrontation with Dr. Rosenthal at the Henderson farm, and I still felt like I was inching my way across ground that tilted and tipped beneath me.
Not in a physical way, not exactly, although the exhaustion from using my abilities so intensively the night before had taken its toll, and all the walking hadn’t helped, either. No, this unsteadiness seemed deeper than that, as though my heart and my brain…and maybe my soul…hadn’t quite caught up with everything I’d done.
Ben emerged from the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee, then settled beside me on the couch. “Agent Morse called while you were in the shower,” he said as he handed me the steaming mug. “She told me that Dr. Rosenthal’s superiors have officially classified the Silver Hollow investigation as ‘geological anomalies with no ongoing security implications.’”
I took a sip of the coffee, letting its warmth ground me. Maybe all I’d needed was a second jolt of caffeine. Smiling, I said, “That sounds like bureaucratic-speak for ‘we’re sweeping this whole thing under the rug.’”
“Probably. But it also means they’re leaving us alone, at least for now.” Ben studied my face with those steady hazel eyes of his. He looked more rested than I felt, but maybe that was because I’d insisted on him sleeping in the guest room upstairs rather than keeping watch on the couch. Somehow, I’d known we hadn’t risked any attacks by shadow stalkers last night, as if my display of power in front of Sonya Rosenthal had been enough to scare even them off.
When he spoke again, his voice was very quiet.
“Did you mean what you said to Dr. Rosenthal?”
I’d said a whole lot of things last night, but I thought I could guess what was bothering him right now. I supposed it was possible I could tell simply by looking into his mind, and yet I knew I would never do such a thing without his express permission.
Besides, although my telepathic gift had come to my rescue the night before, it still wasn’t the most reliable thing in the world.
“Of course not,” I replied. “You know I would never send out the equivalent of a massive EMP, not when it has the potential to hurt so many people. But Sonya Rosenthal doesn’t know that.”
Something in his expression seemed to lighten. “That’s what I thought. It was a pretty effective threat, though.”
A threat that had worked…once. If I went toe to toe with Rosenthal again, things might turn out very differently.
Before I could respond to his comment, a familiar presence touched the edge of my consciousness — not intrusive, like the unwanted telepathic flashes I’d been experiencing, but warm and welcoming.
I’d been getting better at recognizing when the griffin was nearby.
“He wants to talk,” I said, and set down my coffee.
Looking resigned, Ben got up from the sofa. “I hope he’s not too deep in the woods.”
I paused for a moment, trying to pinpoint the griffin’s location. The ping I’d gotten from the beautiful creature was stronger than I’d expected, but I thought there was a reasonable explanation for that.
“No, he isn’t far,” I said. “But obviously, he can’t land in my backyard. You know the neighbors would talk.”
My remark earned me a chuckle, as I’d hoped it would, and the two of us headed over to the coat rack in the entry so we could pull on a couple of windbreakers. It might have been the middle of July, but a slight drizzle was falling nonetheless, and I doubted we’d see the sun today.
As I’d told Ben, we didn’t have too far to go. The griffin had landed in a small clearing about fifty yards from the edge of the forest, but still enough off any of the beaten paths that there wasn’t too much chance of someone stumbling across him. As we approached, though, I could see that something was different about the lion-eagle. His usually gleaming golden-brown feathers seemed dimmer, and there was a weariness in his movements I hadn’t seen before.
