Marshal reached out and I shook my head, unable to look at him. The soft slap of his hand meeting his leg was loud. Bye, Rachel, he said, and I closed my eyes so I wouldnt cry when he leaned in and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek.
Bye, Marshal, I said, my voice surprisingly firm, though my chest felt like it was caving in. It wasnt Marshal, it was everything else.
Ill let myself out.
Thank you, I said softly, and I looked up as he walked away. I took a deep breath, gazing at the ceiling as I shook my hair out. It was almost dry. I wasnt looking for someone to complete me, but having someone to do stuff with would be nice. And I didnt think I could even have that anymore.
I have to get out of here, I said softly, feeling the walls close in on me. If I didnt do something, Id explode in a puff of self-absorbed pity. But not with Wayde watching me. Yes, he was right that I was vulnerable without my ley-line magic. Yes, Trent was right that I was putting those I cared about at risk by not accepting my full abilities. But I was not helpless. I had survived an I.S. death threat, banshees, Weres with guns, and political witchesall without demon magic. It wouldve been an entirely different story last night if I had been prepared and had had my splat gun. Perhaps Wayde needed to know that.
I heard the front door shut, then stuffed the last of the amulets into my bag, sliding them next to my restocked splat gun. I was so out of here. Wayde still had my keys after driving me home last night, but I could take the bus to the FIB. He kept telling me he could keep me safe, but he wasnt taking this seriously if someone hed never met had come into the church and left without Wayde checking him out. The Were needed a wake-up call, and I was frustrated enough to give it to him.
Ivy? I called out, knowing she had probably been listening to the entire conversation. Im going to take the bus to the FIB. Ive got my splat gun and phone.
There was a hesitation, then through the walls came, What about Wayde?
I think hes still sleeping, I said loudly, knowing he couldnt hear us, and not caring if he did. Id been afraid to hurt him last night. The stakes hadnt been high enough, and Id been showing restraint, not cowardice. Today it would be a different story.
Again the hesitation, followed by Call me when you get there!
I felt a surge of gratitude. Ivy knew I wasnt helpless. Feeling better, I grabbed my jacket, shuffling into it while slinging my bag over my shoulder. Phone in my pocket, I strode through the back living room to the porch door. Id spent almost an entire year taking public transportation, and I knew the schedule. If I hurried, I could catch the next bus into Cincyeasy.
Catch me if you can, big boy, I thought as I scuffed my garden shoes on and opened the back door. I owed him a little grief for last night if nothing else.
Chapter Eight
Garden shoes did not make the best getaway attire, and I was leaving little clumps of dirt as I eased the door shut behind me. Exhaling, I turned, taking in the sunny but wet garden. The trees had lost most of their leaves, but the sun was warm. All the vegetation looked tired and worn, kind of like how I felt, and I tugged my jacket closer. The soft hush of a passing car disturbed the Sunday afternoon, then silence.
Some bodyguard, I said sourly, thinking he should have been on to me by now. It wasnt as if I was trying to sneak out. I was prepared for trouble and would be fine.
The church sat on an entire city block, the graveyard taking up the lions share of it. A shoulder-high stone-and-wrought-iron wall encompassed the property, helping separate the living from the dead. A low stone wall divided the mundane witches garden from the gravestones, but I used almost every inch of the place for my plants. From where I stood on the porch, I could see over it to the homes and cars on the street behind the church. There was a bus stop, too. That was where I was headed.
Arms wrapped around myself, I stomped down the wooden steps and into the witches garden. Ivys grill was covered, and the picnic table, scarred by a past curse, was soggy from last nights rain. Rex, Jenkss cat, was sitting on the knee-high stone wall where Jenks had made his new summer bachelor home. Her tail was twitching, and figuring that her tiny master was inside the wall, I gave her a wide berth. But the stupid cat stood, her back arched and her tail crooked as she minced along the top of the wall to me, and I waved for her to stay. Rex had avoided me like the plague for our first year together, but now, when I wanted her to stay, I was her favorite toy. Figures.
Stay there, you stupid cat, I whispered, then froze when I heard Jenkss voice, faint on the still air. Its a beautiful coat, Belle, I heard him plead. Im sorry. No one has ever made me anything except my mother and my wife, and I didnt know what to say when you gave it to me. Let me see it again.
No, Belle said, her lisping voice harder to distinguish above the whispering of the leaves. I have my pride. Ill give it to my brother. Oh, thats right. You killed him.