Page 46 of Scout’s Honor

“Holy shit!” Dallas cried, pacing and slamming his fist into his palm. “If there’s a switch in New Orleans who can hand out everwefts, that switch might know things ‘The Cause’ doesn’t, like why I can see Bonhi glow and no one else can, and why charmed people look blurry to me. Maybe if we find her, we could even convince her to join ‘The Cause.’” He swung around and looked at Bonhi, trying to figure out how to get her to go to New Orleans with him. “Maybe she could convince you that you really are magical.”

Bonhi met his eyes and gave him one short nod. “I’m in,” she said. “That is, if you want me to go with you to New Orleans.”

Dallas grinned at her, then looked at Aven.

Aven nodded and looked at Dakota. She nodded, too, hands on hips. “I like it,” Dakota said.

“Good plan,” Aven said. “You go to the airport now, and I’ll tell Jameson once you’re in the air.” He pulled out his phone. “I can get you a hotel room, paid for by ‘The Cause.’” He pointed at Bonhi. “One room only, right? For safety?” She grinned shyly then nodded.

Bonhi touched Dallas on the chest, saying, “I have to be back the day after tomorrow for court.”

Dallas took her hand and nodded, pulling her to his car. “That’s plenty of time. Let’s get you packed. I’ll buy a change of clothes on the way to the airport.”

They reached the car and Dallas opened Bonhi’s door, noticing something in the backseat—a small duffel bag. His duffel bag.

Dallas looked back over his shoulder. The house was still gone.

“Thanks,” he whispered, moving to the back seat and zipping the bag open.

Inside were several changes of clothes, with boots and toiletry bag, and right on top was the cuff that Warrior Woman had given him.

Aven waved to get his attention. “How many beds?”

Dallas looked at Bonhi.

Bonhi took the phone from Aven and stalked off where they couldn’t hear her, then came back grinning and handing the phone to Aven.

“We don’t get to know?” Aven said, sounding hurt.

“I bet it’s one,” Dakota called in a singsong voice.

Bonhi caught Dallas’ eye. He smiled at her.

The mischievous look in her eye could mean anything.

24—Get a Room

Bonhi was strapped into her airplane seat, thinking about opening up her laptop once they got to altitude and trying to get some work done. Dallas slept beside her, a travel pillow around his neck, his head against the window. He’d conked out as soon as they’d sat down.

They taxied down the runway and lifted off. Bonhi held Dallas’ hand, but he didn’t stir at the pressure. His head bounced on the window, causing little snores to come out of him and she tried to reposition him as best she could. Things got better once they leveled out. She was able to drop his seat back and wedge his head against the wall in an almost comfortable-looking position.

She held his hand while she thought about everything that had happened. Dallas believed in her being a magical witch so strongly, she almost believed herself. And when she’d seen him struggling out there in that empty field surrounded by all the sunflowers, she’d decided to put her own life on hold and do anything she could to help him.

She was falling in love, and she wasn’t even fighting it. She sighed and studied Dallas’ sleeping face, wondering how things were going to work between them. Would they find evidence in New Orleans that she could do magic? And then what? Would she not be a lawyer anymore? Bonhi shook her head. She loved what she did, and she couldn’t imagine anything making her want to give that up. But she wanted Dallas, too.

She kissed Dallas’ hand and put it on his lap, then pulled out her laptop. The four-hour flight was the perfect time to make sure all her loose ends were wrapped up and she could take a day or two off.

She messaged with her private investigator, who was back to work. She needed him to get pictures of the cabin. She told him how to get to it, exactly where the deed was, and what kind of pictures she needed. He said he would handle it first thing that morning and have pictures to her by that afternoon. Pleased, Bonhi checked her list of active cases and tasks and settled down to clear some out.

Several hours later, they landed at the Louis Armstrong Airport. Dallas woke when the wheels touched down. He stretched and smiled at her, saying, “Good nap.”

Deplaning went smoothly, and so did getting their bags.

They stepped out of the airport and Bonhi experienced New Orleans’ air for the first time. The humidity hit her first, like she’d been slapped in the face with a hot, wet towel that smelled vaguely of river water and exhaust.

Dallas held her elbow, then pulled her to a stop. He leaned over and kissed her on the busy airport curb, people walking around them in streams. Bonhi was shocked but she liked it, too. She slid one hand into his hair.

Someone jostled them. “Get a room,” the guy said.