The Pagan Stone Page 0,66

no house in the country, no nine-to-five or what's for dinner, honey in me."

"And you figure that's what Cybil's looking for?"

"I don't know what she's looking for. It's not my business to know, that's the point." Uneasy, he raked his fingers through his dark hair. Then stopped, annoyed, knowing the gesture was one of his tells. "We're having sex," he continued. "We've got a mutual goal to kill this bastard and live to talk about it. That's it."

"Fine." Obligingly, Cal spread his hands. "Then what are you so worked up about?"

"I... Damned if I know," Gage admitted. "Maybe I don't want to be responsible, and linking up that way makes me responsible. They can claim equal shares all they want, but you know how it is, you know how it feels."

"Yeah, I do."

"What happened... What it did to her, how am I supposed to get that out of my head, Cal? How am I supposed to put that aside?"

"You can't, you don't. But that doesn't mean we can stop. We all know that, too."

"Maybe she gets to me." He let out a breath. "Okay, she gets to me, no maybe about it. Hardly a surprise, considering." His fingers itched to drag through his hair again, and he kept them firmly at his side. "This is all fucking intense."

"Caring about her doesn't equal house in the country and big, stupid dog, son."

"No." Gage let himself relax. "No, it doesn't. I could spell that out for her. Diplomatically this time."

"Sure, you do that. I'll bring the platter so your head has somewhere to sit after she knocks it off and hands it to you."

"Point," Gage muttered. "So we let it ride, that's all. But when we do the link-up, I want you and Fox there."

"Then we will be."

HE STILL DIDN'T LIKE IT, BUT GAGE WAS REALISTIC enough to know a lot of things needed doing he didn't like. He'd offset that by setting the time and place. His ground-and Cal 's house was the closest to his ground as any in the Hollow-and late enough in the day to have his brothers with him.

If anything went wrong, he'd have backup.

"Even considering Crazy Roscoe, I'd rather do this outside." Cybil glanced around the room, then zeroed in on Gage. "The fact is, we might need to do this later on, and in the open, so we might as well figure out how to defend ourselves if necessary."

"Fine. Hold on." Gage walked out of the room, returning moments later with his Luger.

"Don't even think about handing that to me," Fox told him.

"So grab a garden tool like last time." Gage turned to Cal.

"Okay. Shit." With considerable care, Cal took the gun.

"Safety's on."

Cybil opened her bag, took out her.22 and handed it to Quinn. Quinn flipped open the cylinder, examined the chamber, then smoothly locked it back in place. "Okay," she said while Cal stared at her.

"Well, the things you learn about the love of your life. Maybe you should take the big one."

"That's okay, cutie, you can handle it."

"Quinn's an excellent shot," Cybil commented. "So, are we ready for this?"

As they headed out the back, through the kitchen, Fox pulled two knives from the block on Cal 's counter. "Just in case," he said when he gave one to Layla.

"Just in case."

Clouds were edging in, Gage noted, but for now there was enough light and the breeze was easy. Like Cybil, he sat on the grass while their friends circled around them.

"Why don't we try to focus on a specific place?" she suggested.

"Such as?"

"Right here. Cal 's house. It's a good starting point. We can work our way out from there. Ease into it this time, and we might lessen the side effects."

"Okay." He took her hands. He looked into her eyes. This place, he thought. This grass, this wood, this glass, this dirt.

He saw it in his mind, the lay of the land, the slopes and rises, the lines of the house. Colors and shapes. As he let it form, the greens of spring, the blooms of it faded, withered, browned. White crept in until snow covered the ground, layered on the branches. It fell still, in fat, fast flakes. He felt them, cold and wet against his skin. In his hands, Cybil's hands chilled.

Smoke spiraled from the chimney, and a cardinal, a bright red splash, winged through the falling snow to land in the bird feeder.

Inside, he thought. Who was inside? Who'd built the fire, filled the feeder? Gripping Cybil's hand, he