But we were over two thousand miles away. A “couple of hours” wasn’t going to put us appreciably closer.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Pike said as the warden led us down a hall holding light office chatter and the scent of printer ink. “No. It isn’t prudent at the moment.” Pike’s eyes found mine again. “Too many people around,” he said, and the warden perked up, worry showing at the corners of his eyes. “Of course. Talk to you when it’s done.”
“Do I need to remind you to stay out of San Francisco?” the warden said, and I shook my head. “Good. Here we are,” he added loudly, slowing at a frosted-glass door and punching a code into the panel beside it. The door buzzed a harsh warning, and he opened it, waiting for me to go in first. “The staff knows you’re here,” he said as I went in to find the expected blah-colored corporate sofa, white laminate table, crumb-laced counter with a water-stained stainless steel sink holding half-rinsed coffee cups. It even had the notice-stuffed board. Two doors led off it, one said men, the other women. Showers, presumably, and I felt ten times more filthy.
“Rachel, one of the guards, Mandy, is about your size,” the warden said, adding, “She has a pair of running sweats if you change your mind about the shower. I’d call a boat for you, but it won’t get here any earlier than the usual midnight run. Vending machine is there. Quarters are on the way. Good?”
I turned at Pike’s sigh to see him gingerly settling himself at the table. “Yes, thanks,” I said. The sooner he left, the sooner I could call Trent.
“Oh, and I’d appreciate it if you stayed here.” He smiled, but it wasn’t nice this time. “No fraternizing. Pike, someone from med will come up when your tray is ready. Lasagna okay?” he said, and I shuddered.
Pike looked from me to the warden, clearly noticing my abhorrence of Alcatraz cuisine. “Thanks. And coffee?” he asked. “Lots of it?”
The warden nodded. “You got it,” he said, then left, tugging the door shut behind him.
There was a click of a lock, but it didn’t seem so bad when there were almost a thousand people in cells within shouting distance, all of them being slowly neutered of their magic abilities through their breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
“Huh.” Pike winced as he carefully shifted position. “It would have been easier for me to go to medical than bring medical to me.”
“They don’t want you to see what they do down there,” I said, and his gaze flicked to mine, suddenly interested. “What did you mean by ‘when it’s done’?” I prompted. “Were you talking about killing me?”
A wide smile came over his face, showing me a slip of tooth. “I’ve revised my estimate. You could last one minute against me. Maybe more. But you’d be hurting at the end.”
Not so small a bite, eh? I thought. “Thanks for not telling Constance where we are,” I said, hand on the ladies’ room door, and he shrugged.
“It wouldn’t have made a difference.”
But it did. She would have taken advantage of it, threatening Zack when I was too far away to do anything.
Eyes down, he rubbed his wrists, now free of charmed silver. “You’re still two thousand miles from Cincy. Maybe you should stay here on the West Coast. You lost.”
“Have I?” I didn’t move, still trying to figure out where I stood with him. He’d put his back to mine in the yard, but that had been self-preservation.
“Funny,” Pike said, eyes closing as he let his head drop into his cupped hands. “I haven’t felt this safe since I was seven and living with my aunt.” He chuckled, in a memory he wouldn’t share with me. “That woman was one tough bitch. I miss her.”
I pushed the door to the women’s showers open. The scent of shampoo was strong, and somewhere water dripped. “I know how you feel. The best sleep I ever had was when I was trapped in the ever-after with a demon who wanted to make me his live-in slave.”
Pike’s head came up. “Seriously?”
I searched his expression, breathed the air, and decided that he wouldn’t try to kill me surrounded by the coven’s personal guard. “The I.S. assassins couldn’t reach me there,” I said. “Al had this weird idea that I was too important to spoil with frivolous bedroom play.” I hesitated as my hurt rushed back. “Excuse me. I need to make a call.”
Pike waved a dismissive hand, and I practically bolted into the bathroom.
“Hello?” I called loudly to confirm I was alone, and when no one answered, I peered under the stall doors and into shower cubicles to make sure. Knowing firsthand how well a vampire could hear, I turned on one of the showers. Steam rose, and seeing it there, bright and inviting, I decided I could chance looking like an orange if it meant I’d be clean.
I scrolled through my phone for Trent, hesitating before hitting the connect button when I caught sight of myself in the long mirror.
“Good God,” I whispered, appalled when the dripping monstrosity did the same. My hair was in stringy ringlets, the dried salt blue at the ends from the copper sulfate. My skirt looked as if kindergartners had finger-painted the sky on it, and my tights were torn. How long until that wears out? I wondered, gazing at the blue in my cuticles.
But it was better than Nash’s blood, and, sighing, I turned my back on the mirror and hit connect. A feeling of failure rose up, and my grip tightened on the cold plastic. I didn’t want to be rescued. I didn’t need to be rescued. I had a boat coming at midnight, and from there, I could jump a plane back to Cincy. Or at least Dayton. I had this.
But I needed to hear his voice and tell him I was alive.
The phone’s ringing cut off, and I heard a muffled “It’s Rachel,” then, louder, “Rachel? Are you okay? My ring went black.”
Eyes closed, I slumped against the counter. The heavy warmth from the shower was creeping up my legs, and I held an arm around myself, refusing to let the tears come. I could hear his love for me, and it hit me hard. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, then cleared my throat, forcing a smile though he couldn’t see it. “Some idiot took the ring off me. I just got it back.” I looked at it, still black on my finger, then made a fist.
“Thank the Goddess,” he said around a soft breath. “Are you okay? What happened?”
I turned to the mirror, shocked again at my state. “I’m fine . . .” My voice rose at the end, and I put a fist to my mouth, eyes closing.
“You don’t sound fine. What happened?”
Don’t you dare start crying, I thought, trying to push the headache away. “I’m fine. I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you I was okay, but they took my phone, too.”