M Sellars - Miranda

Truth is, we had both racked up more than our share of miles and souvenirs, and our journey just seemed to get longer every day. Still, my friend remained on top of his game through it all, and even at this moment his dark eyes kept vigilant watch over our surroundings. Mine, on the other hand, ignored the outside world and drifted back to my hand to once again focus on the bottled jewelry.

Since the twin of this necklace had been an integral part of some very intense blood magick on Miranda’s behalf, in my own way I suppose I was attempting to keep an equally vigilant watch out for a different kind of threat. Not only had the two pieces of jewelry connected her to my wife, the missing mate was now being used to provide her with an interim host that was allowing her to roam beyond the walls of Carswell. Her thinly veiled parting comment earlier today had confirmed that and had been just that much more evidence to support my belief that it was the key to ending this nightmare once and for all.

My only question at this point was why she had not yet employed the free host to directly contact Felicity. In my mind, it seemed that would be the logical end run, as it would definitely be a way to get around me with much less effort. In retrospect, luring me to Texas should have provided the perfect opportunity to simply have the new horse walk up to our front door and ring the bell then pounce on my wife the moment she answered. The fact that this hadn’t occurred was a relief, of course, but at the same time it was troubling. What’s more, there was also the fact that until now I hadn’t foreseen another host besides Annalise as a possibility at all. That in itself just added another entire shot of anxiety to my already overflowing cup of worry.

I kept trying to tell myself that the lack of direct contact meant that something else was stopping her. What it was, I had no idea, but if it was in fact true, and I could figure it out, maybe I could use it to my advantage. Unfortunately, I also knew that what it might really mean is that she had something else planned that I couldn’t even begin to imagine. After all, when you are dealing with an insane person, it is almost impossible to predict the next move she will make. And when you are dealing with an insane person who is also the very definition of evil, all bets are off. Yet, here I stood with my chips on the table, waiting for the wheel to spin and the ball to drop. Feeling helpless wasn’t doing my disquiet any favors.

It also made me wonder if I was just as insane as she.

“Here, Row,” Ben said to me as he gave my arm a bump once again. I heard the metal on plastic hiss of a suitcase pull handle being telescoped, followed by the click of it locking into place. Out of reflex, I looked toward the sound. It appeared that my friend had retrieved my bag while I was being held captive by my inner thoughts. Leaning it toward me, he added, “C’mon. You ready to get outta here?”

“Yeah,” I grunted in agreement, my attention anything but focused.

“You okay, white man?” he asked.

“What?”

“Are you oh-kay?” he repeated, exaggerating the enunciation on each of the three words. “You’re actin’ a little more la-la land than normal, even for you.”

“Oh…that…” I nodded, then took hold of the handle on my suitcase and followed along as he and Constance arced out and around the few passengers still waiting. “Actually it’s not that at all, believe it or not. I guess I’ve just got a lot on my mind. That and I’m worn out.”

“Yeah, I can relate.” He glanced over at me as we walked toward the exit. “That bitch really got to ya’ down there, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, I guess so…” I replied. “I just wish I knew what she’s planning.”

“Besides goin’ after Firehair, ya’ mean?”

“Yeah, but really more of the how she plans to do it, I guess.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, well you’n me both,” he replied.

“I guess I should have seen this whole thing coming. Especially given my reservations about the resolution of that last case.”

“You ain’t Superman, Row.”

I grumbled. “Yeah, well sometimes I feel like I have to be.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Been there.” He was quiet for a second then asked, “Do ya’ think you’re gonna be able ta’ end this?”

“Superman or not, I have to. I don’t have any choice.”

We continued for a moment in relative silence, save for the vibrating drone of the suitcase wheels clacking against the non-skid surface of the floor. As we approached the automatic doors at the bottom of the sloping ramp they slid open, and we exited into the terminal level of the parking garage. Compared to the dimness of the baggage claim area, the exterior lights around the entrance cast harsh, yellowish illumination down from above. I blinked several times as my eyes adjusted to the sudden glare.

“To the left, next level up,” Ben said, pointing as he guided us toward the stairwell.

The night itself was mild, with the temperature hovering somewhere in the low sixties. Cool, but not cold. A slight breeze wafted through, stirring the funk of old exhaust fumes and dirty concrete that forever permeated the structure.

As we approached the stairs, Ben asked, “So you ain’t gonna do the Twilight Zone thing anytime soon, right?”

“You mean right now?”

“Yeah. Like right here or somethin’.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I could if I wanted to, why?”

“Just checkin’,” he replied. “When you get like this I start worryin’ ‘cause it usually means you’re about ta’ fall down an’ flop around on the floor or some shit. I don’t need your sorry ass rollin’ backwards down the stairs right now.”

“It’s not always that bad,” I objected.

He gave me a one-eyed stare. “Aren’t you the guy who just bled all over the place and shit?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get your point. But that doesn’t always happen.”

“No, maybe not, but whatever does happen is always weird and kinda freaky.”

“So you’re saying I embarrass you?”

“Hell no,” he snorted. “You embarrass yourself. I’m just along for the ride.” Constance was already halfway up the stairwell, so Ben gestured and said, “After you, white man. Just in case and all, ya’know.”

I huffed out a tired snort, hefted my suitcase by the grip, and then started upward. “You know, Constance didn’t give me this much grief. Maybe I should just work with her instead of you.”

“Leave me out of it,” she called down at us from the landing. “Right now the only partner I want to work with is my pillow.”

“I won’t argue with you there,” I said. “I just want to get home myself.”

“So listen, Row,” Ben started. “On this whole…”

Before he could finish the sentence, a syncopated warble began issuing from his belt, growing louder with each beat. He grumbled and said, “Hold that thought.”

I had just stepped onto the landing next to Constance when my friend topped the stairs with his cell phone in hand. He held it up and waved the chirping device at us as he announced, “Speakin’ of home, I think McLaughlin must be gettin’ antsy…”

Flipping it open, he answered with, “Yeah, Charlee, we’re on our way. I just picked ‘em up.” As he spoke my friend dipped his head in the direction of his van, and we started walking toward it while he listened to the caller. “Do what? Awww, Jeezus. You’n Firehair are okay, right?”

Adrenalin instantly dumped into my bloodstream at the mention of Felicity, especially considering the apparent nature of his question to Detective McLauglin.

“What’s going on, Ben?” I asked, concern tightening my throat and causing my voice to rise slightly in pitch.