I tried to remember how I’d gotten to this room, but nothing came at first.
I remembered the black car, the glass in the windows darker than that on a limousine. The engine was almost silent, though we’d raced across the black freeways at more than twice the legal limit.
And I remembered Archie on the seat next to me, rather than up front with Jessamine. I remembered realizing suddenly that he was there as my bodyguard, that the front seat was apparently not close enough. It should have made the danger seem more real, but it all felt a million miles away. The danger I was in personally wasn’t the danger I was worried about.
I made Archie keep up a strange stream-of-consciousness future watch all night long. There weren’t any details so small they didn’t interest me. He’d told me turn by turn how Edythe, Carine, and Eleanor would be moving through the forest, and though I didn’t know any of the landmarks he referenced, I’d been riveted by every word. And then he would go back and describe the same sequence differently, as some decision remapped the future. This happened over and over again, and it was impossible to follow, but I didn’t care. As long as the future never put Edythe and Joss in the same place, I’d been able to keep breathing.
Sometimes he would switch to Earnest for me. Earnest and Royal were in my truck, heading east. Which meant the red-haired man was still on their trail.
Archie’d had a more difficult time seeing Charlie. “Humans are harder than vampires,” he told me. And I’d remembered that Edythe had said something to me about that once. It had seemed like years ago, when it had been only days. I remembered being disoriented by the way I couldn’t make sense of the time.
I remembered the sun coming up over a low peak somewhere in California. The light had stung my eyes, but I’d tried not to close them. When I did, the images that flashed behind my lids like still slides were too much. I’d rather my eyes burn than see them again. Charlie’s broken expression… Edythe’s bared teeth… Royal’s furious glare… the red eyes of the tracker staring at me… the dead look in Edythe’s eyes when she’d turned away from me…
I kept my eyes open, and the sun moved across the sky.
I remembered my head feeling heavy and light at the same time as we raced through a shallow mountain pass and the sun, behind us now, reflected off the tiled rooftops of my hometown. I hadn’t had enough emotion left to be surprised that we’d made a three-day journey in one. I’d stared blankly at the city laid out in front of us, realizing slowly that it was supposed to mean something to me. The scrubby creosote, the palm trees, the green golf course amoebas, the turquoise splotches of swimming pools—these were supposed to be familiar. I was supposed to feel like I was home.
The shadows of the streetlights had slanted across the freeway with lines that were sharper than I remembered. So little darkness. There was no place to hide in these shadows.
“Which way to the airport?” Jessamine had asked—the first time she’d spoken since we’d gotten in the car.
“Stay on the I-ten,” I’d answered automatically. “We’ll pass right by it.”
It had taken me a few seconds more to process the implications of her question. My brain was foggy with exhaustion.
“Are we flying somewhere?” I’d asked Archie. I couldn’t think of the plan. This didn’t sound right, though.
“No, but it’s better to be close, just in case.”
I remembered starting the loop around Sky Harbor International… but not ending it. That must have been when my brain had finally crashed.
Though, now that I’d chased the memories down, I did have a vague impression of leaving the car—the sun behind the horizon, my arm draped over Archie’s shoulder, his arm dragging me along as I stumbled through the warm, dry shadows.
I had no memory of this room.
I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. The red numbers claimed it was three o’clock, but there was no way to tell if that meant a.m. or p.m. No light showed around the edges of the thick curtains, but the room was bright with the light from the lamps.
I rose stiffly and staggered to the window, pulling back the drapes.
It was dark outside. Three in the morning, then. The room looked out on a deserted section of the freeway and the new long-term parking garage for the airport. It made me feel better—by a very small amount—to be able to pinpoint time and place.
I looked down. I was still wearing Earnest’s shirt and too-short pants. I looked around the room and was glad when I saw my duffel bag on top of the low dresser.
A light tap on the door made me jump.
“Can I come in?” Archie asked.
I took a deep breath. “Sure.”
He walked in and looked me over. “You look like you could sleep longer.”
I shook my head.
He darted silently to the window and pulled the curtains shut.
“We’ll need to stay inside,” he told me.
“Okay.” My voice was hoarse; it cracked.
“Thirsty?” he asked.
I shrugged. “I’m okay. How about you?”
He smiled. “Nothing unmanageable. I ordered some food for you—it’s in the front room. Edythe reminded me that you have to eat a lot more frequently than we do.”
I was instantly more alert. “She called?”
“No.” He watched my face fall. “It was before we left. She gave me lots of instructions. Come eat something.”