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“Antiquities?” he blurts. “Andthedroll troll from the hillsaccent? Holy shit. You stunt-joking me here, mister? Is this really him?”
I’m still figuring out what to say when Arden cuts in. “Thedroll troll?”
“Well, well, well,” Jesse injects. “It is him. The incubutt, in the flesh. There’s got to be a good story behind this.”
“Theincubutt?”
I grimace, hoping it serves as a temporary mea culpa. “Bigger questions, remember?”
“He’s right, but I still want that story.” Jesse maneuvers his wheelchair in a deft left turn, placing himself in front of Arden. “In the meantime, since it seems we’re on the same team for Operation Ticking Time Bomb, the name’s Jesse North.”
“Arden Prieto.” Before they’re done shaking hands, he eyeballs me with new force. “Ticking time bomb? You mean different from the one we stopped last night?”
“Eh?” Jesse lashes me with a fresh gape. “What happened last night? And why wasn’t I invited?”
Arden rolls his eyes. “Asks the gentleman wearing a leather muumuu for a shirt?”
“And why can’t I figure out whether to punch you or salute you?”
“Focus up, gentleman. Please.”
I nearly snarl out the last of that while wheeling on them with new steel in my posture. Behind them are the stacks that will become our investigative rabbit hole, if we’re lucky and can figure out where to start.
“Focusing,” Jesse assures, locking and loading with his own game-ready regard. “Let’s get to it. Don’t leave anything out of the brief.”
I damn well don’t.
I give them every single detail I can possibly remember.
I start with Hecate and Circe’s first frantic whispers in the sala, where references to rearranged constellations were finished by strategies of war. How their composures got no better when Arden brought Veronica for a surprise visit later that day. For Jesse’s sake, just in case it means anything, I also give a fast account of our insane rescue mission at Rerek’s Malibu place.
At last, I relay the latest confrontation upon which I spied in the barn a few hours ago. I include Circe’s agitation and conflict, as well as Hecate’s eerie zeal about a grander plan in the works.
A purpose that Circe referred to as aninsane scheme.
A plot I’m no closer to fathoming, even after verbally laying it all out for these two men. But while my mouth has been busy and articulate, my spirit fights off a ballooning squall of frustration.
And desperation.
Maybe it’s because neither of them looks ready with a working theory either. Two of the smartest—and, I’ll admit, most devious—men I know, and they both look fairly ready to scratch their heads.
The best response I get is a half-cocked sigh from Jesse as he yanks out his trusty thinking toy from his chair’s side pocket.
“Well, nothing like going for one’s innergeneralistaover morninghuevos,” he mutters. “Or maybe war talk is a great caffeine substitute.”
Arden’s more demonstrative about his cluelessness. I let him have his moment to rise, pace, and slam his hands against opposing bookshelves. In honesty, I revel in it. It’s surreal but satisfying to be sharing the vexation, more so with a male protecting his own Valari treasure. That still doesn’t make him my friend, but for now, ally is good enough.
“Oh?” the incubus finally spits out. “So would that be with or without all the witchcraft fuckery in said coffee?”
“Okay, Sheriff Hellfire. We need a teeny slowdown at the hoedown here.” Jesse flicks his wrist with an economic flourish, sending the long rubber rope out to smack the elevator’s down button. And then the up. “Can you break that shit down in traceable logic for the rest of the room?”
Arden frowns. “You said Hecate referenced destiny? And readjusting coordinates because of it? The witches using their powers to do so?” As soon as I nod, he does too. “Okay. Right,” he mutters.
“What is it?” My volley isn’t so much of an order now. Far from it. “Just say it, all right? I wasn’t blowing sunshine and C-14 at Jesse. We really could be dealing with a time bomb timeline here. But we won’t know for sure until we know where to look for some clues. So, help a guy out? And maybe other people, like your betrothed’s whole family?”
He slashes up an arm as if wielding a machete.
I fall into silence as if he’s decapitated me with it.
