“About me?” I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or alarmed.

He gave a sharp snort. “Don’t sound so surprised. Replacing you’s like trying to replace David Lee Roth.”

“Hagar was better.” For a moment we stared at one another, caught in an unexpected camaraderie. “I gotta wash up,” I said abruptly. Thor slid back under his car. He didn’t come back out when I jogged through the garage a few minutes later, my hair still damp. The summer day was already heavier than the air-conditioning could defeat, and I figured I’d be back outside and dried off before anyone could comment.

Morrison caught me two halls away from the front door and gave me a scathing look. “You smell like a grease pit, Walker. I thought you were on beat.”

The fragile sense of well-being garnered in the garage evaporated and I clenched my fists, fixing my gaze on the floor. Heat prickled at the back of my eyes, and the flutter in my stomach didn’t have anything to do with magic, for once. It was just plain old-fashioned nausea, all knotted up in a ball of misery. “Lunch. On my way back out now.” I knew I sounded sullen, but that was better than bursting into tears.

Morrison stepped aside, surprising me. For a second I didn’t know what to do, stings prickling the inside of my nose, another precursor to embarrassing tears. I hunched my shoulders and flared my nostrils, trying to press the tingle away without being so obvious as to use my hands, and bulled past him.

“You all right, Walker?” There was a note of what sounded like genuine concern in Morrison’s voice, and it pushed me even farther off-balance.

“No.” I hadn’t given my mouth permission to tell the truth, and bit my lower lip hard in admonishment. “I’m fine.”

“Which is it?” He came back around me, frowning, and for a few seconds Captain Michael Morrison clearly didn’t know what to do with his hands. Even with my gaze locked on the floor I could see him reach for my chin, like he’d tilt it up so I had to meet his eyes. Then the sheer inappropriateness of that gesture hit him, even as it made me look up, the knot in my stomach giving a sick thump.

His fingers brushed my jaw because I moved, the contact making his hand drop like a dead weight. The breath in my lungs went with it, my chest beginning to ache because I didn’t seem to be able to remember how to inhale again.

“Walker.” Morrison was not a man I thought of as uncertain or unprepared, but his voice was tight and he held himself in such a way that I thought maybe he’d forgotten how to breathe, too. That began to concern me. Surely we couldn’t just stand there, not breathing at one another, all afternoon. My heart was pounding much too loudly in my ears, like it was determined to drown out whatever Morrison might say next. But he didn’t say anything, only kept watching me as if he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with me. My palms began to ache with the need to do something, but the obvious thing to do with a man in my personal space.

“Joanie!”

I drew in a sharp breath, air startlingly cool in my lungs as guilty color burned my cheeks. Morrison stepped back as if he’d been released from confinement, and Billy came lumbering around the corner with a sticky note in hand, his voice raised. “The reason the department gives you a cell phone is so you can be called on it. The hospital’s been trying to get through to you. They’ve got some paperwork you need to sign. Excuse me, Captain,” he added, perfunctorily.

Morrison grunted. “Hospital?”

“That’s what I was just trying to tell you,” I snapped, not at all fairly. Refuge in anger. Good, Jo. I watched the indecipherable thing go out of Morrison’s expression, to be replaced by far more familiar irritation. Unexpected regret lanced through the general nausea in my stomach, turning my voice even more acid. “My friend Gary had a heart attack last night. What do they want to talk tome for?” I addressed the last to Billy, who thrust the sticky note at me.

“You’re down as next of kin, I guess. Insurance wants you to sign off on his physical therapy stuff.”

I reached for the note with a hand gone so numb I couldn’t feel the paper. It stuck to Billy’s fingers as he tried to let go, and the edge sliced a thin gash in my index finger. I stared at the blood welling up, waiting for the sting of pain. “Next of kin?”

“That’s what the lady said. You and the old man didn’t get hitched, did you?”

I didn’t trust myself to look at either of them, especially Morrison. “No.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Billy wince as his joke fell flat. “Thanks for taking the message.” My voice was too hoarse. “I’ll call the hospital and see if I can get over there tonight.”

“Take half an hour if they need it right now,” Morrison said, more gracefully than I deserved after snarling at him. “Otherwise, get back to work.” That, too, sounded more like sympathy than an order, though he turned a scowl on Billy. “You, too, Holliday. I’m not running a messenger service here.”

Billy said, “Yessir,” as we both watched Morrison stomp down the hallway. Then Billy turned to me, squinting. “Did I interrupt something there?”

Sometimes it was nice to have friends who demonstrated more sensitivity than the average male was reputed to. Other times, not so much. I said, “No,” because there was no other answer I could reasonably give, and Billy didn’t look like he believed it for a minute. “Thanks for the message.”

I went out into the June sunshine to get my phone and call the hospital.

CHAPTER 13

Saturday, June 18, 10:18p.m.

“Officer Walker?” A young man’s surprised voice sounded in my ear, welcome distraction from the eye-crossing insurance paperwork I was trying to fill out. I looked up, catching a glimpse of myself in a window reflection. My hair had wilted from the cute spikes it’d dried in after my shower. A boy who looked vaguely familiar was also dimly reflected in the window, standing behind my chair. I twisted around to frown up at him.

“Garth,” he said. “Garth Johannsen. From the coven?”

“Oh!” I blinked at him, my frown getting deeper. “Hi, Garth. What’re you doing here?” I hadn’t even changed out of uniform before coming to the hospital. The nurse I’d talked to said I didn’t need to come during work, but if I could come immediately after that would be great. I’d picked up the paperwork and visited with Gary until he started dozing off, then retreated to the lobby to go through it. It was after ten now and I was sticky and uncomfortable.

“You weren’t at the meeting tonight.” He came around to sit one chair over from me, leaving an empty space between us. I was grateful on a variety of levels, the most basic of which being that I was too damned hot to want to deal with someone’s body next to mine. “We were worried,” he added.

“And so you what,” I said, “hunted me down at the hospital? How’d you do that, magic?” I set my teeth together and flopped my head against the padded plastic chair back. The kid was earnest and polite and didn’t deserve to be the victim of my sarcasm. “Sorry,” I muttered, then straightened up, convincing myself that I would be more gracious from here on out. “I forgot about the meeting.”

“You forgot?” All the injury and dismay in the whole world were conveyed in those two words. “But this isvery important.”

“Garth,” I said in what I felt was a reasonable tone, “a very close friend of mine had a heart attack last night while I was chasing down your goddamn Virissong. Forgive me if your priorities are not my priorities.” So much for courtesy.

“Oh.” Garth’s voice went all hollow. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”

Ihad meant to be a jerk, and now I felt like even more of one. Venting at Garth struck me as being on about the same level as kicking puppies. I was going to have to consider the possibility that it’d be better if I never spoke to anyone again as long as I lived. “It’s not your fault. Sorry I snarled.”