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Cars streaming into the park--which is a thoroughfare to downtown Vancouver--began slowing to watch us. For three days now we'd been moving through Vancouver and Galiano with only some thought to remaining hidden. Now, having seen our obituaries, I began to wonder if it was only blind luck that no one had yet recognized us from a newspaper article. The way we'd died--escaping a forest fire only to perish ironically in the helicopter taking us to safety--might have made us newsworthy. Slipping through the city, we'd probably go unnoticed. But standing by a busy road, helping a "drunk" friend after being kicked from a cab? We were calling too much attention to ourselves.
"Get him in the woods," I said, motioning to the forest that flanked the road.
As we did that, Corey had recovered enough to dry-swallow the pill and walk on his own.
"At least I didn't actually puke this time," he said. "That's a bonus." He winced and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Sit down," I said. "We're early and it's only a short walk."
He seemed ready to argue, then took another step and looked like he was going to throw up. He made a face and lowered himself onto a tree stump. We said nothing, just waited.
After a moment, he waved to head out. We did, but Daniel and I kept shooting glances at Corey. The St. Clouds
had been keeping his headaches under control. They knew what was going on. We didn't. We couldn't. No one could, not even other supernaturals, because there was no one like Corey out there. If we never went back to the St. Clouds, never had contact with them again, how could we help--
We'd figure it out. We had to.
SEVEN
AS WE NEARED THE aquarium, Corey stopped suddenly.
"It's a trap," he said.
"What?"
"I--" He took a deep breath. "I think it's a trap. I mean, are we sure this chick is who she says she is? All we know is that someone emailed us."
"Using an address you just set up and we only gave to Mitchell's daughter," I said.
"What's wrong?" Daniel said.
Corey shook his head. "Nothing. I just . . . I think we should reconsider." He glanced toward the aquarium. "I think we need to be really, really sure that the person showing up is a woman. We should scout first."
Which made absolute sense. Except that Corey was never the guy advising caution; he was the one we had to caution.
"It's not a woman waiting for us, is it?" Daniel said.
"I don't know. I'm just saying--"
"No, you're not."
Daniel instinctively took on his persuasive tone, then seemed to catch himself. He cleared his throat. Earlier we'd talked about this, how he didn't want to use his powers on us. Now, without thinking, he was doing it and he looked abashed, but I wasn't sure he had a reason to. It was a skill as much as a talent. Something he'd always done, except with me. Maybe because he knew I was too damned stubborn to be persuaded of anything.
He cleared his throat again. "You're not 'just saying,' Corey. You saw who's waiting for us. You had a vision with the headache."
"What?" Corey said. "Um, no. You're confusing me with Maya. She gets the visions."
"This is different," Daniel said. "You see images of things that don't make any sense. Like Maya with Rafe when we thought he was dead. You saw him with Maya in her backyard. Exactly the way they looked when we found them, right?"
Corey glanced at me.
"I didn't tell him." I said. "You know I wouldn't do that."
"I overheard," Daniel said. "You're never as quiet as you think you are, Corey. It didn't make sense at the time, but after, I started wondering. Then when we were in that van, you knew it was Maya rescuing us before she got the door open."
He was right. Both about Rafe and the van. I just hadn't made the connection.
"What did you see?" Daniel asked before Corey could deny it.
