Blood Brothers Page 0,50

carry the water.

When they faded, he saw Quinn crouched in front of him, heard her saying his name sharply, repeatedly.

"You're back. You went somewhere. Your eyes...Your eyes go black and...deep is the only word I can think of when you go somewhere else. Where did you go, Cal?"

"She's not you."

"Okay." She'd been afraid to touch him before, afraid if she did she'd push them both into that somewhere else, or yank him back before he was done. Now she reached out to rest her hand on his knee. "I'm not who?"

"Whoever I was kissing. Started to, then it was you, but before, at first...Jesus." He clamped the heels of his hands at his temple. "Headache. Bitch of a headache."

"Lean back, close your eyes. I'll-"

"It'll pass in a minute. They always do. We're not them. It's not a reincarnation deal. It doesn't feel right. Sporadic possession maybe, which is bad enough."

"Who?"

"How the hell do I know?" His head screamed until he had to lower his head between his knees to fight off the sudden, acute nausea. "I'd draw you a damn picture if I could draw. Give me a minute."

Rising, Quinn went behind him and, kneeling, began to massage his neck, his shoulders.

"Okay, all right. Sorry. Christ. It's like having an electric drill inside my head, biting its way out through my temples. It's better. I don't know who they were. They didn't call each other by name. But best guess is Giles Dent and Ann Hawkins. They were obviously living here, and she was really, really pregnant. She was singing," he said and told her what he'd seen.

Quinn continued to rub his shoulders while she listened. "So they knew it was coming, and from what you say, he was sending her away before it did. 'Not death.' That's interesting, and something to look into. But for now, I think you've had enough of this place. And so have I."

She sat on the ground then, hissed a breath out, sucked one in. "While you were out, let's say, it came back."

"Jesus Christ." He started to spring up, but she gripped his arm.

"It's gone. Let's just sit here until we both get our legs back under us. I heard it growling, and I spun around. You were taking a trip, and I quashed my first instinct to grab you, shake you out of it, in case doing that pulled me in with you."

"And we'd both be defenseless," he said in disgust.

"And now Mr. Responsibility is beating himself up because he didn't somehow see this coming, fight off the magickal forces so he could stay in the here and now and protect the girl."

Even with the headache, he could manage a cool, steely stare. "Something like that."

"Something like that is appreciated, even if it is annoying. I had my handy Swiss Army knife, which, while it isn't up to Jim Bowie standards, does include a nice corkscrew and tweezers, both of which you never know when you may need."

"Is that spunk? Are you being spunky?"

"I'm babbling until I level out and I'm nearly there. The thing is, it just circled, making its nasty 'I'll eat you, my pretty and your big, lazy dog, too.' Rustling, growling, snarling. But it didn't show itself. Then it stopped, and you came back."

"How long?"

"I don't know. I think just a couple minutes, though it seemed longer at the time. However long, I'm so ready to get gone. I hope to hell you can walk back, Cal, because strong and resilient as I am, there's no way I can carry you piggyback."

"I can walk."

"Good, then let's get the hell out of here, and when we get to civilization, Hawkins, you're buying me a really big drink."

They gathered their packs; Cal whistled Lump awake. As they started back he wondered why he hadn't told her of the bloodstone-the three pieces he, Fox, and Gage held. The three pieces that he now knew formed the stone in the amulet Giles Dent had worn when he'd lived at the Pagan Stone.

WHILE CAL AND QUINN WERE HIKING OUT OF Hawkins Wood, Layla was taking herself out for an aimless walk around town. It was odd to just let her feet choose any direction. During her years in New York she'd always had a specific destination, always had a specific task, or several specific tasks to accomplish within a particular time frame.

Now, she'd let the morning stretch out, and had accomplished no more than reading sections of a few of the odd books