Part 8 (1/2)

Aggie gave the car a little more gas. ”The Kreers go to church. It's Sunday. They just might be out of the house.”

Quinn made a clicking sound with his tongue. ”Won't be for long. Not unless they take a lunch out.”

Aggie glanced at the men. ”So, you guys feeling lucky? Or how about just crazy?”

”I believe crazy is part of the job,” Amiri said dryly. ”Or so I was warned.”

”Speak for yourself,” Quinn told him. ”This work is the only sane thing I've ever done.”

Which might be true for Aggie, as well, but she did not want to think too hard on it. She'd had a normal upbringing, a stable family, but none of that had ever been enough-until she found Dirk & Steele. A job she loved. An insane job, with insane risks. She would not trade it for the world.

They crossed the Sauk River and drove up a road that curled higher into the mountain, looming white and sharp above their heads-immense, cold, its stark beauty intensified by blue sky and glittering sun. Warmth; Aggie tried to feel it through the window on her face, but sunlight did not compare to Charlie.

Where are you?

Ten minutes of driving, and they pa.s.sed the Kreer's long driveway, a gravel track that curved out of sight inside the trees. Their name was painted on the mailbox. Aggie drove another minute, then pulled over on the narrow shoulder. Amiri began unb.u.t.toning his s.h.i.+rt.

Aggie and Quinn stepped out of the car, listening hard.

”I think we're clear,” she said. ”Amiri?”

The shape-s.h.i.+fter pushed open the back door on the side near the woods. He was completely naked. Golden light streamed down the long lines of his body, and Aggie watched, breathless, as fur rippled from his torso, his hard thighs. Claws burst from his fingernails.

And then Amiri was gone, and a cheetah stood in his place. The cat twitched its tail, gave them a look that was pure man, and then slipped silently into the forest. Aggie watched him leave, her vision s.h.i.+fting, and saw his future: the edge of a clearing, a small two-story white house. Different angles of the house, different variations. She did not see a car, but that meant nothing. One of the Kreers could still be at home.

”I never get tired of that,” Quinn said.

”Ditto,” Aggie said absently, as the vision cut off. She thought of Charlie. Wondered what he looked like. He said he was ugly. She doubted that. Different was never ugly. She sighed, and felt Quinn look at her.

”Aggie,” he said quietly. ”Is there anything wrong?”

”What do you mean?”

He just waited, and Aggie shook her head. ”Everything's fine.”

”I don't believe that. You're not telling me everything about this case.”

Well, at least he had waited until Amiri was gone to pin her down-for what good that did him. ”I can't talk about it, Quinn. There are... elements involved.”

”And?”

”And that's it. It's not my story to tell.”

Quinn leaned back against the car. ”It's a man.”

”What?”

”There's a man involved.”

”No.”

”Yes.”

Aggie gritted her teeth. ”Just leave it alone, okay? I haven't held anything back from you that could endanger us.”

”That's because you don't know jack s.h.i.+t. I can tell. All you've got is a situation, maybe a vision, and now an address. Someone put you up to this.”

Aggie said nothing. It was the truth, and she could not lie to Quinn. She could, however, divert-and she was prepared to do just that when warmth spread down her neck and back, a fire that flowed right down into her lower stomach. Aggie shuddered. Quinn said, ”Are you okay?”

She was more than okay. Charlie was back, and the joy and relief she felt in that made her woozy. She was becoming a total basket case, and all because of a man... gargoyle... whatever.

”I'm fine,” she said, and then, inside her head, Welcome back.

Deep inside her ear, a whisper, as Charlie said, ”I won't be for long.”

Why? Are you in trouble?

He did not answer. Aggie threw her frustration at him, all her fear and worry, and he said, ”It means a lot to me that you care.”

Then give me the truth.

”I can't.”

”Aggie,” Quinn said, more insistent this time.

”Wait,” she said, and to Charlie: I need to tell Quinn about you. This won't work if I don't.

A lot of things would not work if she could never tell her friends about him. She had enough secrets in her life.

The warmth around her body disappeared, and in its place ran a sense of longing, homesickness, a memory of heat and light and goodness wrapped tight around her soul. She missed him. She did not understand why she felt that loss so strongly, but she did not question it. The feeling was too elemental, as natural as breathing, the beat of her heart. She could not distrust something that felt as innate and instinctive as the desire to live.

And then, right in front of her, Charlie materialized: a large man-shaped body of moving shadows. No face, no defining features of any kind. Just darkness. Quinn jumped, gasping.

Thank you, Aggie thought, and touched her partner's shoulder.

”It's okay,” she said. Quinn did not relax. His fingers twitched-a futile attempt at telekinesis, maybe. She did not think anything like that could work on Charlie. Her vision s.h.i.+fted; she saw a probable immediate future of calm acceptance, even a smile or two. She breathed easier. ”Quinn, really. This is Charlie. He's the person I couldn't tell you about. He's not dangerous.”

”Depends on who you talk to,” Charlie said, and held out his shadowed hand. Quinn stared at it, and then, with a wild look at Aggie, reached out slowly to shake. He flinched when he touched Charlie, who said, ”Sorry about the grip. I don't have much of one.”

Quinn's fingers pa.s.sed through Charlie. ”But you're warm.”

”Um, yes,” he said.

”Okay.” Quinn took back his hand. ”This is weird.”

Aggie raised her brow. ”We're psychic detectives. We work with shape-s.h.i.+fters.”

”It's still weird. And hey, did you tell him about us?”

”I'm a mind reader in this form,” Charlie said. ”She didn't have to tell me.”