Protector

Chapter 11-3

Bright morning sun peeking around the edges of the blinds told Caitlin that she’d managed to sleep the whole night through. More to the point, she hadn’t had any visions. Not even any dreams she could remember.

What she did remember was the taste of Alex’s lips, the feel of his arms around her. A thrill ran through her body, warming her, making her positively tingle with need for him.

Don’t, she told herself. You are not going there now. No way.

She made herself get out of bed, then rummaged through her suitcase for some clean underwear and a fresh pair of jeans. A hot shower might help to clear her head. At the very least, it would get the day started, and she and Alex could decide what they wanted to do next. Something that didn’t involve jumping into bed together.

Good luck with that.

After peeking down the hallway to make sure the coast was clear, she hurried into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The water came on hot almost immediately, so unlike the bathroom she’d had to share with Danica back at their cramped little apartment. The landlords swore up and down that every unit had its own water heater, but Caitlin had her doubts.

Anyway, it did feel good to shampoo her hair and get clean, not that she’d done much to exert herself the day before. When she emerged from the bathroom, she could smell the scent of coffee drifting down the hallway, and guessed that Alex was already up and dressed as well.

Sure enough, he was in the kitchen, pouring himself some coffee. “Iced tea?” he asked her.

“I’ll get it,” she said quickly. This was her second morning here, and she had no idea how long this stay might last. He certainly didn’t need to keep waiting on her hand and foot.

He didn’t argue, but cradled the mug of coffee in his hands while Caitlin fetched a glass, got some ice out of the freezer door, and then poured some tea from the jug into the glass. After she was done, she glanced out the kitchen window. It seemed to be another bright day, although the sky was speckled here and there with high, thin clouds.

“So,” she said, not quite able to meet his eyes. Goddess, she hoped this awkwardness would go away soon. How could she and Alex get anything accomplished if they kept trying to dodge what had happened between them the night before? And that had only been a kiss. What would have happened if they’d ended up in bed together?

She decided she really didn’t want to think about that now.

“So,” Alex said, and then he shot her an inquiring glance. “I assume there were no visions last night?”

“Nothing,” she replied, not bothering to keep her disgust at herself out of her voice. “Not even a bad dream. So I don’t have anything new to offer.”

He didn’t appear all that disappointed. “Well, the day is young. Let’s have some breakfast and worry about dreams and visions after our stomachs are full.”

Since there didn’t seem to be anything else to do, she went along with him on that plan, nuking another breakfast burrito, grabbing the last banana after Alex insisted she have it. They were sitting at the breakfast bar and finishing the last of their food when the doorbell rang.

“Are you expecting someone?” Caitlin asked, glancing at the clock on the microwave. Nine forty-five. A little early for visitors, but not horribly so.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Alex replied. He hopped off his stool and headed for the front door, and Caitlin did the same, praying the visitor wasn’t Marie Begonie, returned to give the wayward McAllister witch the chewing-out she should have gotten the day before.

But no, when Alex opened the door, Caitlin could see at once that the person outside wasn’t Marie. She’d never seen this man before — he looked to be in his late thirties or maybe early forties, Hispanic, not quite as tall as Alex, and definitely not as in shape. His rounded stomach was obvious even under the baggy bowling-style shirt he wore.

“Miguel?” Alex said.

Miguel. The private investigator from Mesa that Alex had mentioned the day before. What the heck was he doing here?

“Morning, Alex.” The man’s dark eyes shifted from Alex to where Caitlin stood behind him. “Caitlin.”

She started at his casual use of her name, and Miguel seemed to smile at her discomfiture.

“Luz sent me. Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Alex said, then stepped aside. Caitlin did the same, moving over so Miguel could enter the house. He went past them and on into the family room, seeming so familiar that she couldn’t help raising her eyebrows at Alex. Shrugging helplessly, he followed his cousin.

“What’s up, Miguel?”

The older man dug a piece of paper and a wad of bills out of the baggy khakis he wore, then handed the piece of paper to Caitlin. She blinked down at it in confusion when she realized it was her birth certificate.

“Where the heck did you get this?”

“Luz figured you’d like to have your I.D. back, so she contacted your parents and had them fax over a copy. Now you can take that to the motor vehicle office and get a replacement license.”

Caitlin turned the paper over in her hands. This didn’t look like a fax. It looked like her actual birth certificate, right down to the fancy blue border and the watermark shaped like the state of Arizona.

Once again, he seemed to detect her astonishment. “All right, so Luz might have cast a minor illusion spell on it so it would look right. But it’ll pass muster with the MVD. Just take care of it today, since the illusion won’t last forever.”

Since she wasn’t sure what else to do, she nodded. At the same time, he gave her the folded-up wad of money, neatly rubber-banded together so it would be easy to carry.

“And that’s five hundred dollars. Your parents wired that down as well.”

She’d been worrying about having Alex pay for everything, but Caitlin hated the thought of her parents having to send her money. They helped out a little with her school costs, but she’d been paying for her own room and board, had supplemented her McAllister clan stipend by tutoring in English part-time and picking up some hours at one of the coffeehouses in downtown Flagstaff. All right, she’d been using money from all those sources and her other side project, the one nobody, not even Roslyn and Danica, knew about.

“Thanks,” she said, realizing that she really should have called her parents yesterday sometime. Yes, her phone was gone, but she could’ve borrowed Alex’s. Well, the money would help to replace her phone and a few other necessary items, and she’d try to be as sparing as possible with the rest.

Alex spoke up for the first time. “This is all great, Miguel, but why couldn’t my mother have just brought these things over herself? Why did she have you come all the way from Mesa to do it?”

Miguel’s expression sobered abruptly. “Well, actually, she’s up in Scottsdale right now. Maya had a stroke last night.”

“What?” Alex demanded, and Caitlin went very still, a shiver of cold running across her skin, even though it was warm enough in the house. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because she had about a hundred other things to take care of?” Miguel answered, his voice seemingly unruffled, although the way his brows pulled together told Caitlin he wasn’t too thrilled with Alex’s tone. “And I’m telling you now.”

“How is she?”

“As well as can be expected. Valentina went up to assist Alba, and the two of them got her stabilized, were able to stop the bleeding in her brain. She’s very weak, though, and doesn’t seem able to speak.”

Alex let out a small, tortured sound, not even a groan, and Caitlin wished she could go to him, put her arms around him and give him a comforting hug. But since she wasn’t sure how well that would go over with Miguel, instead she stayed where she was, that same icy fear seeming to move inward, snaking its way through every vein. Foreboding…but what was its source? Was it only her worry about what would happen if Maya took a turn for the worse?

Looking uncomfortable, Miguel went on, “They’re watching her carefully. If they can’t keep her stabilized, they’re prepared to move her to a hospital. But we’re all hoping that won’t be necessary. Besides, since I was coming down here anyway to check out the neighborhood where the k********g took place, ask around a bit, I volunteered to bring these things over to Caitlin.”

“Thank you,” she said again. “I appreciate it. And I’m very sorry about Maya.”

“She’s tough. She’s survived worse than this,” Miguel remarked, somewhat cryptically.

No way was Caitlin going to ask about that comment. Not with Alex looking stricken, and somehow pale and pinched beneath the usual warm brown of his skin. He did seem to gather himself enough to say, “I’m glad you’re following up on that, Miguel. So you’ll call me if you find out anything?”

“Oh, I’ll find out something,” Miguel said. “Just a question of when. I’ll be in touch.” He looked over at Caitlin and added, “Very nice to meet you, Caitlin.”

Then he went out. His footsteps seemed to echo on the travertine floors, and then a moment later, she heard the front door shut. She looked over at Alex, who hadn’t moved.

“Are you okay?” she asked at last. “I’m really sorry — ”

“It’s all right,” he cut in. His tone was more brusque than she’d ever heard it before, but she thought she understood why. “Miguel was right — Maya is tough. And in the meantime, we’ve got stuff we need to do.”

All right, so he didn’t want to talk about it. She knew it was probably best not to push things, so she nodded. “Okay. Let’s go to the MVD and get me street-legal.”

She wished he would smile.

But he didn’t.