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“What did he say to that? Uh-huh.” Pause. “Yep. Sure.” Pause. “Seriously? And Varian?” Pause. “Nothing? You’re sure?” Pause. “Goddammit. There’s no way he was acting independently from him. I don’t have that many enemies.”
I snorted, drawing Loki’s attention from the contemplation of the two raccoons currently chattering back and forth animatedly to me.
He smiled when he saw me, allowing his eyes to travel from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.
I’d taken another shower, and then slipped into the only warm thing I’d had on hand, a pair of sweat pants that had been in Loki’s bag, socks that were about five sizes too big, and the long sleeved Henley he’d been wearing when he’d been shot last night.
It’d been a good thing that he had the sleeves rolled up at the time, or it’d been stained with his blood, and subsequently thrown in the trash.
It gave me comfort, though, because it smelled like him.
“Yeah,” he said into his phone, but kept his eyes on me. “I’ll be ready to head out as soon as the boy wonder twins and Cleo get here.”
He paused, listening to what whoever was on the phone had to say, and then said, “10-4. I’ll check in once I get there, mom... I mean Trance.”
He smiled at whatever scathing retort Trance had replied with, and hung up the phone.
Pushing the thin phone into his pocket, he walked towards me. “Nice clothes.”
I smiled slightly. “I don’t have anything else.”
At least nothing else I was willing to wear. My clothes from last night were stained with motor oil and dirt from the parking lot of Halligans and Handcuffs. I wasn’t willing to wear them, which meant it was the sweats or nothing.
Wearing nothing wasn’t really a possibility, either, since it was around forty degrees out.
“I have Cleo bringing you some clothes,” he said just as he reached me.
His fingers ran through my tangled hair, trying to separate the tangles. “I have a brush in my go bag. Do you want it?”
“What’s a go bag?” I asked with a raised brow.
“It’s a bag that’s ready in case of an emergency. It has some protein bars, a spare gun and a couple boxes of ammo. A comb. Some hygiene products and clothes,” he said as he worked his fingers through a particularly tangled spot.
“Sure,” I agreed. “How’s your arm?”
The small hole that went through his arm, now covered by eight tiny stitches, looked red and angry. The blue stitches stood out, making the wound look even worse.
His grimace said it all.
“Did you take any pain meds?” I asked. “How about your antibiotics?”
“I have to drive,” he replied.
I gave him a droll look. “That doesn’t mean you can’t drive if you’ve taken those. It means to use common sense.”
The sound of pipes started to vibrate through the forest, and the furry woodland creatures scurried away just in time for four bikes to pull into the driveway.
They parked beside Loki’s truck, and got off.
Silas’ beard looked even more badass today, than it had at the bar. Today, it was braided and fell to just about chest level.
And his shirt. Oh, God, his shirt was awesome. Although it was partially covered up by his leather vest, I could still make out the words.
It said, ‘With great beard, comes great responsibility.’
“I love your shirt!” I blurted.
His cool demeanor cracked, and the man gave me a devastating smile.
