Too late, I realized how rude my statement might have come across.
“I didn’t mean that,” I backtracked, hoping my face wasn’t glowing. “I mean, you’re pretty high up around here, it seems. Carter’s always talking to you for this and that. I guess I just figured—”
“A head computer geek wouldn’t know how to check cameras?”
“Uhh…”
I’d only been making a passing remark. I hadn’t meant to be offensive.
Today must be my lucky day to offend everyone, I thought sourly.
James wasn’t actually offended. I knew it a second later when he chuckled. “Lighten up, Ellie. I’m kidding you. Is your inability to take a joke due to the whole homeschooled thing?”
If I hadn’t been blushing before, my face felt on fire now.
“No!”
Again, James laughed. “Kidding. Don’t know how you survive Carter if you’re that easily rattled by a joke, though.”
“I’ve pretty much learned to ignore almost everything he says,” I mumbled, “especially if it’s at all shocking or outrageous. I’ve figured out he doesn’t mean it.”
Usually.
“Sounds like a good plan with him. Guy’s a real cynic, to say the least. Is it true you don’t let him cuss in front of you?”
I raised an eyebrow at the abrupt topic switch. “I’m not sure I could make or keep Carter from doing anything,” I said dryly, “and how did you hear about that?”
He ignored the question, responding instead with one of his own. “Well, does he cuss in front of you?”
“Uhh…not all that often,” I admitted.
“Why not?”
“Why not? Because…because I asked him not to. I guess.”
“Asked, or told?”
I searched my brain to bring up the scrap of memory.
“Told, technically.”
“Ah ha. So you don’t let him cuss in front of you. And he goes along with it. I was right.”
He looked triumphant.
“Right about what?”
Smirking, James stuck his hands in his pockets. “He likes you.”
Remembering how viciously Carter had recently sent me away, I couldn’t help sputtering a laugh. “Uh, no. He doesn’t. I can promise you that.”
“Eh, you don’t know Carter as well as I do. He doesn’t bend over backwards for anyone except Sean and Ciara. That guy definitely likes you.”
Annoyed, I rolled my eyes. “Look, I hate to burst your bubble, but—”
Whatever I was going to say was interrupted by the roar of the approaching four wheeler, a nice, brand new one, by the looks of it. A middle-aged man with copper skin and greying hair was driving. He wore jeans and a simple long-sleeve work shirt that had his name embroidered across the front. He parked the vehicle and climbed off, leaving it running.
“Javier, thanks, my man,” James said, leading me off the porch and over to the quad. “Javier, meet Ellie. She’s Carter’s wife.”
“Miss Ellie,” he nodded, ducking his head, smiling almost shyly.
“Nice to meet you, Javier,” I said, holding out my hand for him to shake. I didn’t bother correcting James in front of Javier, but once we were on the quad, with him driving and me behind him, I leaned against James’ back to say loudly, “You don’t have to introduce me as Carter’s wife. I’m not going to stay that way.”
James half turned his head, enough for me to see his grin.
“I know. But everyone around here has heard the story. Everyone wants to know what type of girl saved Jackson Costas and married an ass like Carter.”
I sank back into my seat with an, “I doubt anyone really cares.”
“You’d be surprised,” James called back, turning the vehicle to dodge another set of flowering trees and bushes. “Anyway, don’t let Javier’s bashful act fool you. Guy’s a freaking beast.”
“What kind of beast?”
He sure hadn’t looked like one. He’d looked like a nice, simple kind of man. But if I’d learned one thing lately is was that some people were definitely not what they appeared.
“He’s called a Maricoxi,” James hollered over the roar of the engine. “I’ve only seen him in action once. Kind of like the South American ape-man, or our own Bigfoot. When he went into action…” James paused, shaking his head. Steered us around some massive native boulders, worked artfully into the landscape. “Brutal,” he finished. “Glad he’s on our side.”
I shuddered, remembering my own personal brush with a Bigfoot. What had once seemed a harmless or even amusing legend, spinning ridiculous reality TV shows, wasn’t so harmless, amusing, or ridiculous anymore. Those kinds of beasts could tear somebody apart, limb from limb. I was guessing James had probably seen no telling how many different kinds of shifters in his day. For him to say that about Javier, he must be ferocious.
We lapsed into silence, since it was hard to talk because of the four wheeler anyway. I clung to the metal rack on either side of my hips, unwilling to lean forward and grab a strange man around the waist. Maybe if it had been Carter, and we hadn’t been fighting, it would’ve been different. Then again, the idea of leaning up against Carter’s broad back and wrapping my arms around his waist was either too appealing or too embarrassing for me contemplate. Or maybe it was embarrassing because, on some level, it was appealing. Never mind that here I was on his bad side, again.
I released a discouraged sigh, feeling every bump and jolt of the quad like a slap to the backside. Thankfully, the drive only lasted a few minutes. Soon enough, we were back in some secluded corner of the compound, far away from the main house, outbuildings, and front grounds. Not far away, I could see a structure which, after shutting off the engine, James told me was both a guard shack and a place to store weapons and tools.
Following James’ example, I climbed off the vehicle. Whereas he went straight over to a couple of workers who were already there, messing with wires from a box set in the high wall, I kind of sauntered around, checking out the place, admiring the beauty of the Costas compound and wondering how many people lived here, how many had come from across the country or around the world, like Carter, because of the refuge Sean Costas offered, and how many were beholden to him. If they were, what did he demand from them? Loyalty? Obedience? A share in his less than law-abiding enterprises? If I accepted his offer of free medical school, would I be in the same boat as them?
It was a lot to ponder, and I wasn’t paying any particular attention to what was going on with James and the other men until I heard James swear aloud and say, frustrated, “I don’t think this was a glitch. I’m a gremlin: I know glitches in electronics and machinery. This was sabotage.”
My ears perked up.
Gremlin? Really? But weren’t they supposed to be experts at wreaking havoc with machinery and electronics? Maybe that explained why James was at the top of his field. He was a gremlin shapeshifter, but used his gremlin abilities in reverse, as it were. Interesting.
I stole a little closer to the trio, edging in on their conversation.
“You think?” asked one of the workers, wearing jeans and a work shirt just like Javier’s. Also like Javier, his name, Weldon, was embroidered on his shirt. He had gnarled hands and leathery skin; looked to be about sixty.