Wedging his shoulder beneath mine, he got me standing upright then traded his grip for my waist.
“How are you over this so fast?” I wobbled. “How is that fair?”
“I have fae blood,” he reminded me. “I also spent a great deal of time in Faerie. I acclimated.”
“I’m calling Bishop.” I located my phone. “We need to get eyes on this portal until it goes bye-bye.”
Despite switching my cell off under Remy’s glare after the first portal, it proved as dead as a frakking doornail.
“I don’t suppose you have yours?” I put away my phone. “I seem to have lobotomized mine.”
“No.” Midas touched his back pocket on reflex. “I left it with the supplies in Buckhead.”
Tipping my head back, I glared at the overcast sky. “Where’s a payphone when you need one?”
Genuine shock reverberated through him. “You remember payphones?”
“No.” Slanting him a glance, I laughed at the look on his face. “I remember movies with payphones.”
Shaking his head, a smile on his lips, he scanned the area. “We can’t leave the portal unguarded.”
“The best I can do is set a circle around it.” I had that much juice left, but that was about it. “It will keep humans from wandering in, but it won’t stop anything that comes through the portal from getting out.”
“That will have to do.”
“It’s better than nothing,” I agreed. “Ambrose, can we rig an alarm to tell us if the circle is breached?”
The shadow stroked his chin then stuck out one hand while pointing at his palm.
“It’s not like the city is in peril.” I reached in my pocket, located the chocolates, and tossed him three. All the while I reminded myself maintaining balance with him was a good thing. “Let’s take a moment to indulge your sweet tooth.”
After gulping them down, he motioned me to follow him with what remained of my supplies.
“Wait here,” I told Midas, trusting him to alert us to any oncoming danger. “This won’t take us long.”
With careful instruction from Ambrose, and a boost from his stored energy, we erected a circle that kept the most vulnerable from getting too close. We embedded triggers as well, to inform us the second a sentient being pinged against our protective measures.
Natisha wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot. We couldn’t afford to think or to act otherwise.
Anyone willing to sacrifice her children for vengeance wasn’t going to get squeamish on us now.
The brutal reminder forced me to recall what else we had left behind us in the archive.
Goddess, please let Remy find her way home.
“You’re getting better at this.” Midas’s praise came tinged with concern. “That was fast.”
“It’s small magic, and we’re still flush enough to make it work without drawing on ourselves for power.”
The reassurance was meant to comfort him, but I got the impression it unsettled him.
That made two of us.
Dependence on Ambrose held the potential for addiction, and I wasn’t great at resisting temptation.
Obviously.
Midas swept his gaze around the empty park. “Where do we go?”
“Do you know anyone who lives near here who can lend us their cell?” I got gooseflesh thinking about leaving the portal unsupervised, but we didn’t have all night to babysit it, and we had no means of contacting our allies. With no runners, walkers, or late-night strollers, we couldn’t borrow one either. “The Clairmonts are nearby, but I would rather not try my luck there.”
Ayla was an ally, but she would have her hands full coordinating with her people in the field. She would do in a pinch, but I’d prefer a more private environment for the calls I had to make. Odds were good she recorded her calls, and I didn’t want to give anything about HQ away.
In my heart, I believed the OPA would be on top of things, even without my hand to guide them.
But my head reminded me to take nothing for granted until I touched base with my team.
Please let them be okay. Please let them be okay. Please let them be okay.
“There.” Midas pointed out a gas station. “Can you make it?”
Brain still wobbling, a bit like Jell-O fresh from a mold, I squinted at it. “You know the cashier?”
Patience almost, almost, masked his amusement. “They sell burner phones.”
“Oh.” I forced my legs to get with the program. “I didn’t consider a prepaid cell.”
“I’ll buy you a Coke and a chocolate bar too. Sugar will help.”
In my experience, sugar always helped, or it at least made the problem taste better.
“You’re the expert.” I rubbed my tender stomach. “I wonder how long we were gone?”
I wasn’t hungry, exactly, but I was forever snackish. I couldn’t base the passage of time off that.
“We’ll check our receipt.” He caught my look. “That way we don’t stumble in asking what day or time it is and draw unwanted attention.”
“I saw that movie.” I leaned into him. “Lots of those movies, actually.”
“How else do you think I learned how to avoid the classic blunders?”
Heart doubling in size at The Princess Bride reference, I was about to kiss him senseless when a lone siren called out to the empty streets, its voice choked off in seconds, leaving my libido cold.
Midas pressed a kiss to my temple then hurried inside while I stood vigil in the silence.
The bench outside was dirty, but I didn’t care. I sat while Midas shopped for us. He returned minutes later, dropped a box in my lap, and twisted off the cap of a Coke bottle for me before passing it over. I took a long drink, handed it back, then tore open the package to find a phone encased in thick plastic.
“I hate how they seal these things. It’s a ten-dollar cell, not the latest iPhone.” I twisted and picked at it. “You need a wrecking ball to open them.”
“Or this.” Midas transformed one fingertip to a claw and sliced out a square. “Better?”
“Much.” I yanked it out and waited for it to power on. “Well? What does the receipt say? How long were we gone?”
“Four hours.” He flashed it at me. “We spent eight or ten in the archive, easy.”
“At least the difference worked in our favor.” That was an unexpected blessing. “You mentioned chocolate?”
“I have KitKats or Hershey bars.”
“The Hersheys are plain? No almonds or crackle?”
“Plain dark chocolate.”
“The things I do for this city.” I took the hunk of chocolate, tore the wrapper, and bit down. “Mmm.”
“Yes.” Midas had bought a jerky and a water for himself. “I can tell you’re suffering.”
Noticing him pocket the rejected option, I asked, “You don’t want the KitKat?”
“I’m saving it for you for later.”
“You don’t trust me to hold my own spare candy bar?”
“No.” He gave me a flat look. “I don’t.”
“That’s fair.” The phone screen flashed and then held steady. “Here we go.”