The Den of Shadows Quartet - Amelia Atwater-Rhodes [125]
“Any more advice you’re willing to share?” Turquoise asked, ignoring Ravyn as well as she could. She bit back a yawn, and then frowned at her watch. It was only noon. Grudgingly, she admitted to herself that even she had limits. She had been up since three in the morning, and had spent much of the time fighting Ravyn. Still, there was enough adrenaline left in her system that she had expected to be wired until next Tuesday.
Nathaniel paused. “None that’s going to mean much to you. With luck, you won’t have any trouble dealing with Jaguar. He’s probably stronger than the vampires you’ve faced before, but he’s weak compared to Jeshickah. If Jeshickah or Gabriel are there, pray you don’t run into either of them.”
Ravyn’s gaze snapped up from what had been a sleepy-looking contemplation of her chopsticks when she heard the second name.
“Something wrong?” Nathaniel inquired.
She shook her head. A frown crossed her brow briefly and Turquoise saw her stifle a yawn. As always, the yawn was contagious.
The waitress had returned with their check. By the time Nathaniel had taken the appropriate number of bills from his wallet, Turquoise was taking deep breaths in an attempt to keep awake.
One foot in front of the other, Turquoise ordered herself as she followed Nathaniel to the car. He opened the two passenger-side doors before walking around to the driver’s side. The passenger’s bucket seat sank beneath Turquoise invitingly.
Turquoise was nearly unconscious before she turned her doubling vision on Nathaniel.
You drugged us? It took two tries to form the thought coherently, and then her lips seemed too dry to say it aloud.
Sleep, Turquoise, Nathaniel returned, speaking with his mind as he started the car. It’s a long drive to Midnight, and there’s no reason for you to know the way.
But…
Sleep.
CHAPTER 4
THERE WERE THREE cartoon characters to choose from, though of course the best ones were on the square bandages and the tiny ones, the ones no one ever had a use for.
“There, all patched up,” Cathy announced. “You take care of Bert for me,” she commanded. The eight-year-old boy grinned, any pain from the scrape on his shin forgotten in the swath of Sesame Street bandages, and kissed his sister on the cheek before hopping down.
Tommy scampered off about the time that her dad descended the stairs. “That boy gets into more trouble in one afternoon …” He shook his head, still smiling. “He’s lucky to have you. Most fifteen-year-old girls have better things to do than take care of their brothers.”
Cathy shrugged. It sounded like Mr. Minate was about to launch into another of his inspirational talks.
“Honestly.” Right on cue. “Some people only care about themselves. They use things; they destroy. You’re … you’re a creator, a builder. A healer, not a user.”
Cathy shook off the words using the traditional “nod and smile” approach. Her father seemed to realize he had descended into the depths of hokey advice again, and gave her an impulsive hug. “Don’t let anyone change you, Cathy.”
The dream crumbled, and Turquoise wrenched herself away from sleep, trying to gather her bearings. You are not that innocent girl anymore. You are Turquoise Draka, a high-ranking member of Crimson, and a vampire hunter — one of the best. She pushed the memories away.
She was on a job. Memories had no place here.
She was sprawled across the passenger seat of Nathaniel’s car, with a kink in her back where someone seemed to have tied the muscles into a square knot. She rotated her shoulders, cautiously peering out the car’s window as she pushed the remnants of her dream away.
They were parked at a gas station. Through the window, she could see Nathaniel speaking to the cashier, an attractive young woman.
Flirt, Turquoise thought without bitterness, as she saw the cashier leaning forward, giving her customer an excellent view. Her hand lingered, fingers brushing over Nathaniel’s as she handed him his change.
Turquoise heard Ravyn starting to come to, as she waited for Nathaniel to get