“Aunt Kaede?” Shasta held the door open for Jones. “Hey, you home? I found him.”
“Another aunt?” Jones asked, glancing around warily.
“She’s not really my aunt, I just call her that. And stop looking around like you expect something to jump out at you. It’s safe here.”
“Bullshit.”
“Point taken,” Shasta sighed, covering his mouth against a series of coughs that tugged at his half-healed chest. Kaede had done a quick and dirty healing job on him but it wasn’t perfect; he still tired easily and he thought if he really had to do anything strenuous his lungs might just explode. At least now he could speak. “Aunt Kaede!”
“I heard you the first time,” she said mildly, coming into the hallway from the kitchen. She’d shoved her dirt-spattered gardening gloves in the back pocket of her jeans, which themselves had fresh grass stains on the knees. “Don’t yell, you’ll hurt yourself.”
Shasta opened his mouth then shut it again, deciding it wasn’t worth the argument. “Okay. Aunt Kaede, this is Jones. He refuses to tell me his first name. Jones, this is Kaede, my surrogate aunt. Come into the living room with me, I need to lie down.” He took Kaede’s arm and led her into the living room, leaving Jones to follow along behind them like a lost puppy.
He sank down onto the couch with a relieved sigh and stretched his legs out, absently rubbing at his chest as he watched Kaede and Jones take the armchairs. Jones sat like he expected to have to launch himself out of the seat at any moment, one hand on the arm of the chair and the other resting near the gun on his hip. His eyes scanned the room restlessly, his gaze never staying in one spot for more than a few seconds.
“Relax, Mr. Jones,” Kaede said. “Nobody’s going to hurt you here.”
“I’m not worried about you hurting me,” Jones snapped. “Just tell me where Aloria is.”
“Not if you’re going to just go racing off and get yourself killed outright. Aloria isn’t someone you can go up against with guns blazing. If you don’t care about yourself, then at least think about Drae. She won’t hesitate to use him against you.”
“I know.” Jones sighed and slumped back in his chair. Watching him, Shasta thought how exhausted he looked suddenly. “I just want to get Drae and my daughter back, and go home.”
Kaede reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “You will. Just work with us, all right? We’re not doing anything tonight; I need to do some research, Shasta is practically asleep already—”
“I’m not,” Shasta mumbled. “Just resting my eyes.”
“—and you look half-dead, Mr. Jones,” Kaede finished, ignoring Shasta completely.
“It’s just Jones. Nobody calls me Mr. Jones.”
“I call him Jonesy,” Shasta volunteered.
“I think I’ll stick to Jones.” Kaede clapped her hands together and stood up. “I’ll give you a quick tour, Jones, and then you can go to bed.”
Shasta watched them walk out of the room in the direction of the kitchen then heaved himself to his feet and wandered up to the room where he usually stayed when he was over here. It had been redecorated since his last stay and he grimaced at the little yellow ducks cavorting along the border. They were carrying green umbrellas almost as big as they were, and wore bright red rubber boots on their feet. Shaking his head at Kaede’s taste, Shasta stripped down to his shorts and lay down on the bed.
He fell asleep for a while but didn’t dream, and when he woke again the house was dark and silent. He glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was just past 3:30 in the morning, but he felt wide awake now. Pushing himself to his feet, he wandered out of the room and down the hall, absently rubbing at his chest. He checked in the other spare room and saw Jones curled up on his side and fast asleep, his back to the door. Shasta watched him sleep for a moment, then went downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
He was sitting at the table in the dark, sipping at a glass of water and zoning out, when he heard the back door softly click open. He got up immediately and went to slide the butcher knife out of the knife rack on the counter, holding it before him as he padded silently on his bare feet towards the back door.
“What are you going to do with that thing?” Her voice came from behind him, from the kitchen he had just left, and knew had been empty only a few seconds before.
“Stab you?” he said, looking back over his shoulder. “Am I dreaming? I can’t tell.”
“Nope.” She sat down in his vacated chair and crossed one long leg over the other. “I figured I should actually come see you physically. I’m no dreamwalker, it’s harder for me.”
“I’m not a dreamwalker either,” he pointed out, turning back and replacing the butcher knife in the caddy. “Elle, right?”
“Smarter than you look.” She picked up his half-empty glass and drained the rest of it. “What?” she said in response to his look. “You didn’t offer me anything.”
“I guess it’s typical demoness behaviour to just take.”
“If you’re not careful the only thing I’m going to take is offense.”
“All right, sorry.” He pulled out another chair and flopped down into it. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”
“Just thought I’d visit, see how you were healing.”
“Aloria says hi.”
Elle grinned. “Oh good, she got my message then.”
“You couldn’t think of a different way to send it?”
“I didn’t get you shot, that was your own dumb fault. Ever heard of waiting for backup before going into danger?”
“I wasn’t expecting to get shot.” The look she gave him made him blush. “Okay, it was dumb.”
“See, you can learn.” Elle got up and refilled the glass with more water from the jug in the fridge. “How’s Jonesy?”
“Freaking out, Jonesy-style. He was pretty murderous but now I think he’s just tired.”
“Poor Jonesy,” Elle said, though she didn’t sound very sympathetic. “Want to do me a favour? Say no and I’ll pull your tongue out.”
“Well, if you put it that way...”
“Good. Bring Jonesy here in the morning.” She flourished a scrap of paper in one hand and held it out to him. “He’ll balk so just tell him it’ll help him get Drae back. Or get creative. Either way, get his ass there tomorrow.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” He snapped off a sharp salute but she was already gone, taking the water glass with her. “You’re explaining that to Aunt Kaede,” he told the air, then headed back up to bed.
He overslept late into the morning, and got up with the sun bright across the foot of his bed. Feeling fuzzy-headed and stiff, he stumbled into the bathroom for a shower then wandered downstairs to find Kaede and Jones eating breakfast at the kitchen table. The sight of it reminded him of his late-night visitor and he jogged back upstairs to fetch the slip of paper she’s given him. He was breathing hard when he made it downstairs again and Kaede gave him a disapproving look, pointing silently to the extra chair.
“I need to take Jones somewhere,” he said, taking the seat as ordered. “It’s to do with Drae.”
“Really,” Kaede said, setting another plate of food down in front of him. The bacon was a little burned but he tucked in eagerly, starving.
“Trust me,” he said around mouthfuls. “I feel much better, I can protect Jonesy.”
“You might want to actually ask him if he wants to go, Shasta.”
“Jonesy, you wanna go with me and have a chance of getting Drae out with a minimum of blood shed, especially mine?”
Jones eyed him suspiciously. “Go where?”
Shasta glanced at the paper. “Somewhere in the between worlds. You want this chance or not?”
Jones gave him a long, cool look and Shasta thought he was going to have to lay it all out for him about Elle’s visit—and he didn’t really blame him, his own words sounded suspicious to his ears—but after a moment Jones nodded. “As soon as you’re finished eating.”
“Yessir.” Shasta shovelled the last few forkfuls into his mouth and got to his feet. He washed his hands at the sink and dried them on his jeans, then held out one hand to Jones. “Trust me?”
“Never,” Jones said, but he took Shasta’s hand.
Shasta glanced at the paper again and took them into the between world, keeping hold of Jones’s hand. He dropped the piece of paper into the fog and drew Jones back as it exploded into a gate, throwing fog into their faces. Wiping tiny droplets out of his eyes, Shasta led Jones through the gate.
They came out into the yard backing onto a house Shasta recognized as the house he had tracked Jones to originally. It seemed like it had been years ago, though it could only have been a couple of weeks at most. Shaking his head, he tightened his grip on Jones’s hand and led the way around to the front door.
“This is Elle’s place.” Jones gave him a dirty look.
“I swear to you this was not some elaborate trick. Just a slight trick. Elle said to bring you here so she could help you find Drae.”
“I think I’ve had enough of Elle’s help for a lifetime.”
“That’s cruel,” Elle said from behind them. “Here I am cleaning up all your messes and you talk behind my back like this.”
“To be fair,” Shasta said, “you’re the one behind us.”
“You’re cute.” Elle passed them and opened the door. “Get in here.”
“No,” Jones said.
Shasta looked between them, one eyebrow slightly raised, and wondered who would break first. To his surprise Elle was the one to shut the door and step back down to the sidewalk with them.
“I can do it just as well here.” She rolled up the sleeves of her shirt and stretched out her hands until her knuckles cracked. “Give me your hand, Jones.”
Jones just raised an eyebrow at her, his expression stubbornly mulish. Rolling his eyes, Shasta raised their still-joined hands and thrust them at Elle. Elle flashed him a brilliant smile and took hold of Jones’s wrist, wrapping her fingers around it as Jones tried to pull away. A wisp of smoke curled up from beneath her hand and Jones winced, baring his teeth momentarily. Then Elle released him and let him step back, smiling in the face of his glare.
“Look, you need a little extra protection. There it is. Now, do you think you can pull your head out of your ass long enough to actually rescue Drae and your daughter?”
“And Shiki,” Shasta added.
“Shiki’s a bonus,” Elle said, her eyes still on Jones’s face. “Nod like a good boy.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Jones growled, holding the arm she’d grabbed curled protectively in against his chest.
“Good enough. Bye boys.” She waved and a few seconds later they were standing outside Kaede’s house again.
“What’d she do to you?” Shasta asked. “Does it need healing?”
Silently Jones held out his arm, showing Shasta his wrist. Branded into the delicate skin was a circle split by three horizontal lines, the two outer ones longer than the middle; a symbol of protection that Shasta had never seen outside of a few books in Shiki’s collection.
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