Marked In Flesh (The Others #4) - Anne Bishop Page 0,139
with Sierra and the girls than Twyla.
“We’ll be fine, Crispin.” Twyla patted his hand. “You go about your business.”
Burke and O’Sullivan stood and said the appropriate things. Monty kissed Twyla’s cheek and whispered, “I’m glad you’re here.” Then the three men went out the back way.
“We’ll walk over to the consulate with you,” Burke said.
“What should I tell the governor?” O’Sullivan asked.
Monty glanced at the back of the Liaison’s Office. He caught the faint sound of music coming from the open windows, but Meg wasn’t playing it loud enough for him to determine if it was earth native music or popular music. He needed to talk to his mother and sister before they met Meg Corbyn and saw the scars that were now visible since she’d begun wearing summer clothes.
“You ever watch nature programs?” Burke said. “You ever see one of those anteaters with the big claws breaking open the ant hills in order to get at the ants?”
“I vaguely recall seeing something like that,” O’Sullivan replied.
Burke nodded. “Then you tell the governor that the storms heading our way are the claws of the beast that will break open our cities in order to get to the meat.”
• • •
“Can we take a walk?” Meg asked.
Simon paused, the T-shirt halfway raised. He finished pulling it off, dunked it in the water trough in the Green Complex’s open communal area, then, with a happy sigh, put it back on.
“That’s better. Sure, we can. Do you need to rub bug spray on your skin?”
If she did, he’d stay so far away she’d have to shout instead of having a very quiet talk. “No, I’ll be all right.”
“Then dunk your shirt like I did so you stay cool.”
She looked around, not sure who else was home right now. “Girls aren’t supposed to take off their tops.”
“That’s a stupid human rule,” Simon growled. “We don’t care.”
She couldn’t argue that one way or the other, and the air had become close and viciously muggy in the face of the oncoming storm. The weather forecasters couldn’t decide whether Lakeside was going to be hit by the storm coming up from the south or the one swinging over the Great Lakes from the north. They were cautiously optimistic that the rain and damaging winds from the hurricane that was leisurely pummeling the East Coast wouldn’t reach Lakeside. The hurricane hadn’t stalled; it just seemed to pause at certain cities to inflict the most damage before continuing north.
After dunking her shirt in the trough, Meg put it back on and sucked in a breath when the cool, wet fabric touched her skin.
“Isn’t that better?” Simon asked, taking her hand.
“Much better.”
They walked over to the road, then paused.
“Which way?” Simon asked.
Good question. If they headed toward the Market Square, they would pass the kitchen garden. It was dark now, so it wasn’t likely that anyone would be working there, but there was always a chance, and she didn’t want to see her human friends right now.
Meg turned in the other direction, which would take them up to the Utilities Complex if they stayed on the Courtyard’s main road.
“Are we walking so you don’t itch?” Simon asked after a minute.
Should have known he would notice. “Too much that’s new and unsettled.” She hadn’t met Lieutenant Montgomery’s mother or the other members of his family, but just their presence in the Courtyard had caused twitches and prickles and buzzes on her arms and legs. Those potential prophecies could have been caused by Agent O’Sullivan just as easily. After all, he would have more influence on whatever might happen, wouldn’t he?
In the end, she’d closed the Liaison’s Office early and gone home—and wasn’t surprised to find Nathan waiting on her porch by the time she’d put her BOW in the garage and connected it to its charger. Until Simon got home, the watch Wolf was on duty.
She wasn’t sure if it was being home, or doing some of the moves she’d learned in the Quiet Mind class, or her amusement at Nathan, in Wolf form, doing some of the moves with her, but the prickles faded. And yet the unease had lingered through the rest of the afternoon.
“Simon, what’s going to happen?”
He didn’t answer. Then: “I don’t know. A lot of things broke at the same time. A lot of the Wolfgard died. In the past, trouble boiled up in one place. One form of terra indigene or other would deal with it, the humans who caused the trouble would be gone,