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"Finally," Paige said, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
That relief didn't last long. The first report was certainly positive--Hope was alive. She was being held under a doctor's care. Group members were milling about. There was no sign that the summoning was imminent.
But we had hours to wait until Jaz arrived, and while it was good to have an inside view, it was nerve-racking, too. Every time my mother or father came back to report that something was happening, we were certain Giles was preparing to summon Lucifer. Then it would turn out to just be lunchtime, and we'd grumble and pace and settle back into watching and waiting.
Lucas was off with Paige, endlessly plotting and managing
. If word came that the summoning was beginning before Jaz arrived, he needed a backup plan. I'm sure he had several. No one asked what they were. No one really wanted to know. They almost certainly didn't end with Hope's survival.
Finally we got word that the jet was about to land at the regional airport. Adam, Clay and I took off for the landing strip and arrived just as the jet touched down. We stood in the airfield waiting for the door to open.
"Remember that scene in The Silence of the Lambs?" Adam said. "Where they bring Hannibal Lecter off the plane in a straitjacket and mask? Kinda feels like that."
"Except Lecter had to kill his guards and wear their faces to impersonate them. With Jaz, we don't have to worry about the face-ripping part."
"He's just a psycho with one special power," Clay said. "It means you need to keep an eye on him. Doesn't mean he's any tougher to kill than anyone else."
"Is that what you're going to do when this is over?" I said. "Kill him before he goes back to headquarters?"
"Only if he tries to get away. You don't think he'll do that, do you?"
I smiled. "Of course he won't."
The door of the plane opened. Two guards came off first and walked stone-faced down the ramp, then took up positions flanking it. Jaz appeared.
Twenty-nine years old. Black curls. Long-lashed green eyes. Cast Jasper Haig in a movie and he wouldn't be the killer. He'd be the hot nice guy, the sweet friend that the heroine finally noticed once she got over her infatuation with the hot jerk guy. Which is probably the movie that ran in Jaz's head every time he thought of Hope.
He wasn't wearing a straitjacket. Or a mask. He wasn't even shuffling out, chains rattling in his wake. It took a second to realize that thin cables ran between his feet and his hands. Modern technology. It really lacks drama.
There was, however, one nice touch that would play well cinematically. The werewolf at his shoulder, prodding him along.
"Shit," Clay said, fumbling for his cell phone and checking for a missed message. "Something must have happened to Karl."
Before we could answer, he loped off to meet Elena. We jogged behind him.
"Is Karl--?" I began.
"Karl's fine." By her tone, it almost sounded as if she wished otherwise.
"Fine?" I said. "But he was at death's door this morning."
"Oh, he still is. Apparently that doesn't matter."
Before I could ask what she meant, she greeted Clay with a quick hand squeeze and a tired smile. He murmured something I didn't catch, and she nodded.
"Quite the welcoming committee," Jaz said. His grin lit on Clay. "Clayton Danvers. This is an honor."
"Want me to take this trash off your hands, darling?" Clay said.
"Please."
Clay took Jaz by the shoulder.
"Good," Jaz said as Clay led him away. "Your mate? Nice lady, I'm sure, but not very talkative. I'm hoping you're the chatty one, because I have a lot to ask-- Oww."
I shook my head and walked over to Elena.
"We didn't know you were coming," I said.
