15 October, Rainier University
A soft blanket settled slowly over Sandburg's body. Silently her hands tucked it over and around him. Once he was cared for -- his glasses, and shoes removed and placed near him, collar loosened, body gently reclined back onto the sofa -- she gave in to the odd urge, leaned down, and briefly kissed his forehead.
"Oh, you sleep as hard as you work. " She whispered to the unconscious man with a soft smile. If he could see her face, he would have been surprised at the emotions there. She worked very hard to convince everyone she had none, but he was getting too close for her to ignore. If she wasn't careful she would end up hurting when it came time to leave. She couldn't let the young man become a friend. Frineds only made work harder. She frowned at herself. Maybe she should leave now rather than risk the emotional ties. It was something to think about.
She turned down the light and walked to the phone. Her fingers danced across the memorized numbers. She waited patiently as the other phone rang. Finally an answering machine answered.
"Hello. This message is for Detective Ellison. It's Fortaleza. Sandburg's here. Come by if you want him. 555-1234." Her voice was soft and tired even to her own ears. "I'll be up until midnight."
852 Prospect, Apt 307
Jim glanced around the loft as he hung up his coat, looking for a note. This was the first time in nearly a month that Blair wasn't home before eleven. Since starting to work for Fortaleza, his hours had stabilized enormously. The woman was a fanatic about keeping Blair's hours under control. Unfortunately, she couldn't control his hours researching or working at the station. If she knew how long he was spending at the library or curled up with her journals, she'd cut the young man's hours even more.
He walked over to the answering machine. The light was blinking, probably Blair's car had broke down again. He pressed the button and listened to several messages before the one he wanted began. Fortaleza's voice came on, it's accent a little thicker than normal. Even with the declared truce between them, she was as wary of him as if he were his spirit guide in the flesh.
He wasn't quite sure how to take that. It was not the first time he'd ever had someone so completely on edge. It was the first time someone he had decided was not a threat or a danger stayed edgy around him. After all, they had declared a truce, the problems should be over. If she was planning something that would risk Blair's life, he'd be able to understand her wariness. But the reports all stated firmly that Fortaleza kept her word. That meant Blair was in no danger around her. Therefore, Jim had no problem with the woman. One of these days, he mused silently, he was going to have to convince her that he wouldn't bite.
Her voice was soft, nearly a whisper. Weariness echoed in it. "Hello. This message is for Detective Ellison. It's Fortaleza. Sandburg's here. Come by if you want him. 555-1234. I'll be up until midnight."
He glanced at the clock. If he left now, he could be there with a few minutes to spare. He sighed and turned to leave.
Rainier University Apartments
Snow swirled in the parking lot as he pulled into the space next to Blair's car. He looked up at the dark building. The only lighted windows were on the second floor, marking Fortaleza's apartment. The sight of a figure pacing jerkily behind the curtain set off alarms in Jim's mind. Every description Blair gave of Fortaleza portrayed the woman as a calm and controlled bundle of energy. The figure was too big, too bulky to be his partner and he knew for a fact the woman was too shy to invite company over. In fact that was something Blair often worried about. Jim slid out of the truck, automatically checking that his weapon was in place. He turned up his hearing and headed for the snow covered walkway.
"Take it easy, man." Blair's voice was low, almost in Guide mode. His heart was racing, his breathing fast and shallow. "The artifacts aren't worth someone's life."
"Where's the dagger collection?" A rough, young voice asked.
"It's not here." There was a faint buzz under her words, almost a mechanical sound. Then he heard a soft, nearly inaudible click, but Jim couldn't place the sound. Fortaleza's accent was carefully held at bay. Her voice was louder than normal, almost as if she was trying to force their attention to stay focused on her. He heard the strain of anger under the accent. "All of the valuable artifacts are already at the museum."
"Not the daggers. Where did you put them?" the rough voice was too calm. He could hear the sound of a safety being removed.
Jim broke into a run. Racing against time to reach the apartment before things got out of control. He heard a slap and a body hit the floor.
"Leave her alone!" Blair's voice was raised and he could hear the sound of bodies moving.
"Sandburg! NO!" Fortaleza yelled, as the sound of a gunshot ripped through his sensitive ears.
Jim shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. The sound of Blair yelling and the crash of breaking glass made him look up. A slim body hurtled down at him from the second story window. For a moment, he thought it was Blair, but it was someone he didn't recognize. A long handled spear pierced through the man's shoulder, the spearhead gleamed wetly at him before it was buried in the snow-packed ground under the body. He barely paused to make sure the man was unconscious and not dead.
The Sentinel ran up the short steps and into the building, pulling out his cell phone. As he raced up the stairs, he pushed the speed dial for the precinct while drawing his pistol. He quickly and tersely explained the situation to the officer on duty, slowing as he reached the top of the stairs. He listened to the other man's reply with only one ear before grunting his agreement and hanging up the phone. Slowly, he crept down the hallway, hooking his badge to his pocket and listening to the sounds coming from the apartment.
He heard the sound of a body slamming into a wall. Then came a loud crash followed by a moan. The room went eerily silent.
"I really would suggest that you NOT do that." Fortaleza's voice was harsh, filled with an icy rage that made Jim's blood go cold. She was barely in control. He stood at the door, trying to picture what was going on behind it. "If anything happens to Sandburg, not even Tlazolteotl will want what's left of you when I'm done."
Something fell to the floor and he could hear the sound of people moving around. Jim took a deep breath, grabbed the doorknob and opened it. A rapidly moving figure came at him from the side. Instinctively he reacted, whirling and raising his pistol in one smooth movement. He froze, lifting the pistol away as AJ halted, looking at him curiously.
"Fortaleza? It's Ellison." He announced quietly, taking in the tableau. In the distance he heard approaching sirens. At his words, she nodded, the tension falling away slightly. She reached out one hand and flipped the light switch, flooding the room with light.
Blair crouched across the room, his hands pinning a man's arm in an uncomfortable hold. He looked up at his partner and grinned in relief. A red mark on his temple showed the beginning of a bruise. His rumpled clothes and the blanket lying beside the couch were testament to his interrupted nap. With a relieved grin, Jim tossed his handcuffs to the younger man.
The woman beside Jim stirred, looking over at Blair. Her relief startled Jim. She really cared for his Guide, friendship, worry, and affection reflecting briefly on her face before her expression went flat. The look she shot at the men near the window was cold, filled with a barely contained fury.
Jim moved over to where two men knelt, hands folded on their heads. Both men were pale, their eyes wide and frightened. They kept their eyes focused on the woman. He heard her approach and noticed the fear in their eyes growing as she drew closer. He turned to look at her, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead.
Fortaleza's eyes met his. Pale green eyes, flecked with silver looked at him, measuring him, trying to read him. The pupils were mere pinpricks rimmed with a solid ring of silvery gray. The force behind those eyes stabbed at him, demanding his full attention. He felt the Sentinel in him stir warily and then, inexplicably, subside. Her eyes darted away, releasing him.
He could see the spreading bruises that marred her face and throat as her tan faded. What had, in the first moments after his entrance, been golden skin was now rapidly turning pale. One slim hand rose to her cheek, wiping at the snowflakes falling through the broken glass, leaving a bloody streak.
"Where are you hurt?" Jim's voice was harsh, even to his own ears. Blair turned his attention to them, startled.
"I'm fine. It's not mine. I kept him safe for you, Detective Ellison." A slow smile spread across her face. The dazed expression that crossed her face as she spoke had him moving towards her. "If it were not for the circumstances, I would be happy to see you again."
Jim caught her as her eyes rolled back and she began to fall bonelessly. One arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her up against his chest. As soon as he grabbed her, he realized that her side was wet and that the heavy scent of blood came from her. He glanced down at the two men as they began to move restively.
"Don't even," he growled at them, balancing the woman against his side.
Blair quickly crossed the room to Jim's side. His voice was soft, worried as he reached for Fortaleza. "Let me take her, Jim."
He released her into his partner's hands, keeping an angry eye on the two men. Both looked away from the barely harnessed fury in his eyes. He looked away from them, scanning Blair as the young man wadded up the blanket and pressed into the woman's side. His Guide looked a bit rough around the edges but otherwise seemed unharmed.
"I'm glad you're okay, Chief," he murmured.
Blair looked up from Fortaleza's side and smiled at him. "Me too, Jim. Me too."
16 October, Cascade General Hospital
Jim watched as Blair paced the waiting room. The past two hours had been hard on the younger man. The nurses and doctors, although they were familiar and some were even friends, would not release any information about Fortaleza.
"Sit down, Blair." Jim grabbed Blair's arm as he paced past again. "Come on, Chief. You're exhausted and this won't help her."
"Jim, I just can't get over it. One minute I was working on the background for an artifact and the next there was a gun in my face. I don't even remember going to sleep in between." He looked up, eyes wide. "She just exploded, man. I mean, she was like, so calm, explaining to them that there were no valuable artifacts in the apartment and then, when that one pulled the gun on me, bam. She grabbed the spear in one hand and the Bowie in the other. I've never seen anything like it.
"I'd wondered about that, I mean, the spear thing. The thing just appeared one morning on the coffee table. Since then, it was always around, leaning on the table or the wall, always within reach. I never noticed her carrying it around, it just seemed to migrate to wherever she was working. And when she reached for it, I mean, I hadn't even noticed it was there." Sandburg bounced back onto his feet and began pacing again, still thinking aloud. "The moment the man threatened me, she went from conciliatory to attack. There was no pause from the one to the other."
"Chief, I hate to tell you this, but from what little I saw, her moves were professional." Jim broke into the scholar's thoughts. His eyes followed his partner's restless pacing as he mentally reviewed the woman's movements. "When I came in, she came up to me, not threatening me, but judging me. She was ready for any move I made. Even if I'd shot at her, that knife was ready to be thrown and I wouldn't have gotten away unscathed. The moment she recognized me, she backed off. She's had some really good combat training."
"Yeah, I kind of noticed that when she took out those three guys. But what does that mean?"
"I don't follow you, Chief."
"When she lost it in the apartment, it was like looking at a wild animal, one trapped and terrified. She would have done anything to get us to safety. Then when she headed towards you, I thought..."
Sandburg's correct assessment of the situation startled Jim. He hadn't realized just how much the exposure to police life had opened the younger man's eyes. First with the unease and the search for answers about Fortaleza's past and then with the judgment of the fight in the apartment. He thought hard, carefully choosing his words, trying not to startle his partner any more than necessary.
"Blair, until she recognized me as a friend, and not a threat, she was seriously considering attacking. As soon as she figured I belonged there, she lowered her guard. It's pretty obvious that she's used to trouble and used to having to fight her own battles. But knowing her past, that could mean just about anything." Jim looked up and focused his attention on the hallway. A tired looking doctor was heading their way. Both of them stood, waiting for news.
"Are you two the police officers here with the Fortaleza girl?"
"Yes, we are." He answered before his partner could start correcting the Doctor's impression.
"I'm Dr. Gillespie. She'll be fine in a day or two. She has a minor concussion, which is part of why she passed out. The bullet skimmed her side without doing any major damage, just blood loss. It took a lot of stitches, but there are no broken ribs, so the would will heal fairly quickly. You said she's been out of the country? Would you know where?" The gray-haired doctor was watching them carefully as he spoke.
"I think she just came back from South America." Blair answered him. "Why?"
"Oh, just a thought. Her blood work came back a little odd. We just want to run some more tests to clear up a few things."
"Odd?" Jim asked. "How so?"
"It's nothing, just a little off." The doctor jotted a note on the file in his hand. "Nothing to worry about. Her blood count is a bit anemic. We'll give her a few extra antibiotics just to be on the safe side until the tests come back."
"When can we see her?" Jim glanced at the doctor, wondering what was going on. The man didn't seem worried, instead he seemed pleased. Almost as if having something different come through the ER was a good thing.
"You can't. She's resting right now. We'll be keeping her overnight. If you come back tomorrow, you can question her then." He smiled ingratiatingly. "If you want, we can have security keep a watch on her room.
"She's a material witness, Doctor, not a suspect." Jim spoke quietly, but firmly. "We're her friends. We just want to check on her."
"Then, by all means, let her rest until tomorrow. It would be much better for her." That said, the doctor turned and walked away.
Jim stretched, checking the time. He smiled grimly. "Come on, Chief, if we leave now, maybe we can get some sleep before going in to the station."
"Aw, man, don't tell me we have to be there early." Sandburg groaned as he put on his coat. When Jim's hand reached for him, Blair dodged with a grin. "Ya missed, old man."
Cascade General Hospital, a private room.
AJ slowly sat up, trying to ignore the pain in her head and side. The room around her was white, white walls, white ceiling, white floor tiles, it had to be a hospital. All around her machines monitored her body, tracking her heart, her respiration, and her blood pressure. She grimaced as she noted the IV lines going into her arm. Between the medications added to her glucose drip and the concussion she received earlier that night, she could barely keep her eyes open. She looked around gingerly, noting the absence of company. Good, maybe that meant she had a chance to escape.
"And just where do you think you are going?" The voice boomed at her, making her head pound harder. The doctor's cold hand wrapped itself around her wrist, making her shudder.
"I'm leaving." She stared at the man, trying to find his name. Finally she gave up, certain it wasn't in her memory.
"What is your name?"
"Pardon? No entiendo." I don't understand. Why was he asking such ridiculous questions. She swung her legs off the bed. The hand on her wrist tightened.
"You have a concussion. Do you know your name?"
"My name is AJ Fortaleza. Who are you?" Between the concussion and her accent, the words slurred as they rolled off her lips. She looked around the room, trying to focus on its location. The Lord knew she hated hospitals. This had to be on a different floor from the ER. She remembered the attack at her apartment and abruptly she felt her brain kick into high gear. Where were Blair and his Sentinel? She faced the doctor. "Where is Sandburg? He wasn't hurt, was he? What happened after Ellison arrived?"
The doctor continued his examination of her, ignoring her questions. She wondered if they had run her records yet. Maybe she could get out before they got too far. Before too many people noticed.
"Agie? Odd name. You've been admitted to Cascade General Hospital. You have a concussion and seventeen stitches. Dr. Gillespie is pending any further treatment on the results of your blood work." He still hadn't looked at her, hadn't met her eyes. He was supposed to be her doctor. Or was he? He treated her as if she was a small child, refusing to answer her questions about her care, her condition, and her friends. But then again, she probably couldn't call them friends, associates was a better word. Friends were a whole different matter, with friends she would not have to hide so much.
"I am not staying. I want to go home." But she knew she really didn't have any such place. There never had been a home. Never would be one either. She just wanted to get to safety before the world dissolved into chaos again.
For the first time, the doctor looked at her, meeting her eyes. He was young, not much older than she was. His eyes were odd, at least for what she thought of as a doctor. There was none of the warmth that she naturally expected of a healer. She knew that there would be no recourse, he would join her enemies the moment they arrived. She had to get out of there and get out fast. They were coming, she could feel it in her bones. If she closed her eyes, she knew what she could see; flames burning high around the altars, knives pressing into skin, blood flowing on the old stones. AJ forced her mind away from the visions. The room wavered around her before solidifying again.
"No. With a concussion like yours, you were unconscious for several hours, we always keep the patient for at least a day, sometimes several days. Also, we have the anomalous blood work we got from you, we're still waiting for the test results. And then there's the wound in your side. You are not going anywhere." The man's tone was pompous and condescending. "Only your parents can sign you out. So you can just stay put for now."
"What? Who are you? I am old enough to check myself out of here. Where is Sandburg? He'll tell you." She demanded angrily.
The infuriating man patted her shoulder and advised her to rest. Adding information to her chart, he walked away, muttering about the flightiness of injured women.
She waited until he was gone, talking to the nurses at the far end of the hall. Then, very carefully she studied the monitors. It was hard, but she managed to force her eyes to focus on the fine print. One by one, she turned them off and disconnected herself from their wires. The last machine linked to her was the IV. She turned it around and looked at it, figuring out the mechanics of it and its tiny instructions. With a grimace she pushed a pair of buttons, waiting for the alarm. When it didn't go off, she smiled and began removing the IV lines.
The room wavered as she stood. The walls flowed oddly, curving together and wavering before her eyes. Finally they straightened, becoming solid again. Gritting her teeth against the nausea that standing caused, she forced herself to walk to the clothes folded on the dresser. Once her vision had cleared again, she began pulling on her clothes, preparing to escape the cold white room. Nothing was going to keep her here. Nothing and no one.
852 Prospect, Apt 307
Blair was sitting at the table, typing on his laptop when the phone rang. He jumped, startled by the shrill sound. Instinctively he grabbed at it, trying to keep from waking Jim. As he listened to the voice on the other end of the line, he saved his work, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to work any longer.
"Mr. Blair Sandburg?" The voice was not anyone he knew.
"Yes."
"This is Tina, from Cascade General. You are listed as the contact person for..." The woman's voice stumbled over the name, "Alessandre J Fortaleza?"
"What happened to AJ?" His voice rose, cracking in panic. She'd been sleeping but okay when they'd left her. It was bad enough that she'd been hurt trying to protect him, but if anything else had happened, the Dean was going to kill him. "Please, tell me that she's all right."
He could hear his Sentinel moving around up in his room. Blair knew that hearing the panic in his voice and jump in his heart rate was enough to wake Jim. Jim's voice came down the stairs ahead of him. "Sandburg?"
"We're not sure. She seems to have left the hospital. Did she go home?" Tina's voice was hesitant.
"Can you wait a minute? We need to check."
He looked up to see the pale blue eyes of his friend watching him over the railing. The other man was dialing a number on his cell phone. Their eyes stayed connected as Jim spoke to the security officer guarding Fortaleza's apartment. Thanks to the many artifacts and the broken lock, it was being watched by campus security. He read the negative response and closed his eyes. His thoughts began racing as he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, he knew he should be able to guess where she'd be. Jim thanked the officer and began to dress.
"No, she hasn't turned up there." He listened to the woman on the other end. "Yeah, we'll start looking for her. . . No, I don't want you contacting the police and putting an APB out on her, at least not yet. We'll take care of it. . . Yes, I'm sure. Thank you."
"How long has she been missing, Chief?" Jim's voice was soft, worried as he came down the stairs.
"They're not sure, maybe two hours." Blair stood and went to the balcony door. "It's snowing again and she doesn't even have a coat, man."
"Where would she go?" Jim was pulling equipment out from under the stairs, at Blair's comment about the coat he grabbed an old jacket and tossed it onto the pile. "Come on, Blair, think. Where would she run?"
"I don't know."
"You're the only person who knows her. You're the only chance she has." Blair watched as the older man laid out their survival gear. Their eyes met briefly. "Where would she go to hide, where would she feel safe?"
"I don't know of anywhere she's been since she arrived." He felt the tension in his chest as he began to think about AJ in the midst of Cascade in a snowstorm. In the past three weeks since her arrival, he'd only seen her working. She'd always politely declined to join him in anything outside of work, remaining behind at her apartment. The tension hardened into a fist of pain. He couldn't focus beyond the sudden tightness and everything began going gray.
"Breathe, Sandburg!" The roughly growled command shook him, grabbing his attention as Jim grabbed his shoulders. "That's it, breathe in and let it go. Again, breathe in and let it go. Keep it slow and steady. That's better."
A firm hand was resting against his chest, measuring each breath he took. The other was wrapped around his arm, holding him against a hard form in a half hug. Blair looked over to meet his sentinel's worried eyes. The other man smiled slightly as he realized that Blair was back in control. "We'll find her, Chief."
The younger man leaned against him gratefully. His mind was racing. "The only places she's been are her apartment, campus and . . ." He looked up, eyes brightening as he had an idea. "the museum. If she isn't at the apartment, she'll be there."
Jim nodded tersely and grabbed the bag he'd packed with emergency supplies. "Grab your coat and let's go."
When they finally caught up with Fortaleza, he planned on having a long talk with her. No one pulled a stunt like this on his watch, not when it sent his Guide off on panic attacks. Tamping down his anger as unproductive and dangerous in this weather, Jim led the way out of the loft and down to the truck.
They made the trip to the natural history museum in near silence. A trip that normally took twenty minutes had taken them well over an hour. The slow drive through the falling snow gave him too much time to think. Blair's active mind with images of disaster.
"It's not your fault, Chief." Jim's voice startled him, as they pulled up to the museum.
"How did you know what I was thinking?" He turned to meet his Sentinel's eyes.
Jim lightly cuffed his shoulder. "It's pretty obvious, Darwin. You've been silent for most of the drive here and your face is expressive enough to read. You had nothing to do with her taking off in the middle of a snowstorm."
"If I'd stayed at the hospital, she might still be there. She might still be safe."
"You are not responsible for her, she's an adult."
"But she was raised in another culture, she's not used to this place. She doesn't know about snow and city life, Jim. It's part of my job as her assistant to make sure she stays safe until she leaves." He zipped his jacket, preparing to leave the warmth of the truck.
"No, Chief. It's your job to help her with the museum show. It's not your job to baby-sit." Jim's face was grim. If Fortaleza was here, the lady was going to hear it from him. His roommate had been in a near panic since they'd heard from the hospital. No one was allowed to make his Guide feel this guilty over something he had no control over. The anxiety attack had nearly sent Jim over the edge. Fortaleza's behavior was about to get her in deep trouble with a very angry Sentinel.
The museum guard was waiting for them at the entrance. Once he'd opened the door for them, he'd taken off at a fast pace, leading down one of the dark halls. The grizzled old man moved as if he were far younger than the age his face proclaimed him to be.
"I've searched the exhibit they've been working on, Detective. No sign of the girl." The man smiled faintly. "Of course, she's a spry child and could anywhere in the place. She's the one who hung all the weapons and things from the rafters. She probably knows the place better than I do."
"What do you mean?" Blair asked, bouncing slightly as an idea began racing through him. "I thought she'd only been here the time I brought her."
"Oh, no. That girl has stayed here every weekend since she arrived. And she works here whenever you are too busy with your police buddies." The man chuckled at the look on the anthropologist's face. He loved being able to surprise people with his knowledge.
"She's been here that much?"
"Eyah. Like clockwork. She wants this exhibit to be perfect for Mr. Zel." The man grinned as he reminisced. "She tells all kinds of stories about each piece and how she or Zel got it and what it means. Every guard here knows the crazy kid."
Blair looked shocked at the information he'd just received. The idea that the young woman had been working so hard when he wasn't around bothered him. Then it occurred to him that AJ had regularly run him out of the apartment, insisting that he rest and relax, but had worked both at the apartment and the museum. In fact, she had been at the museum enough that the guards easily recognized her. The double standard was infuriating. The thoughts that crossed his mind were reflected on his face.
"Come on, Chief. Let's find her first, then you can yell at her." Jim's voice was soft as he followed the security guard.
"After all the times she chased me out, ordering me to go home." Blair's voice was grim as he contemplated the situation.
"She only has the one job. You have your classes, this project, your research, and the station." The bigger man was extending his senses, noting the information he was gathering as they entered the unfinished exhibit. He smelled dust, ancient leather, fresh cut wood and herbs, and more. The scent of the herbs caught his attention as he began categorizing them. Traces of sage, wormwood, valerian, cinnamon, cloves, mint, and several others that he could not recognize or name teased his nose. Then it hit him, he smelled ayuahuaste and yaje. As the scent of the powerful herbs filled his senses, Jim staggered back a step.
"Jim?" A warm hand rubbed his back, clearing his head.
"I'm okay." He growled.
"What is it, big guy?"
Jim ignored the question. He lengthened his stride, passing the startled guard and stepping onto a display. His hands were gentle as he picked up a carved wooden bowl. He focused on it, his eyes picking up the traces of moisture, chamomile and mint leaves. It had been used recently. A small pouch lying on the display caught his attention.
Made of pale leather, it was decorated with an entwined spiral design. It was sewn shut with bright red thread, the pattern a warning as well as seal against the contents getting out of the pouch. He focused his sense of smell on it. The pouch was filled with dried yaje. With a trembling hand he gingerly picked it up. The mere thought of the power of this drug was enough to worry him. It could easily be stronger than the Golden they ran into, and that drug nearly killed his partner. Why did she have something like this here? He pulled a plastic evidence bag from a pocket and placed the pouch in it.
"Hold this for me, Chief." He handed the sealed bag to Blair and stood, looking around. Something was eluding him, but it was too hard to focus on, too diffuse.
Blair began speaking softly, far too softly for the security guard to hear. "All right, Jim. Concentrate. Remove the extraneous scents. Layer by layer; take out everything that doesn't matter. Do you remember what AJ smells like? Remember how my jacket smelled the day I lent it to her. Try to isolate that scent."
Jim listened to his Guide. He identified scents and removed them as unimportant. Finally he was down to a few scents. His eyes widened as he labeled them. He could smell AJ, her scent was strong here. It was layered over all the displays in the unfinished exhibit. Over and around him it swirled, part of the air itself. It was covered with the fresh scent of blood and ... something else. Something that stirred memories but could not be identified and that bothered him.
"Got it." He turned away from his partner and focused on the security guard. "Is there any other way into this exhibit?"
"No, sir. Just this entrance. The other one is locked up tighter than Fort Knox."
"Well, she was here." Jim pointed to a smudge of blood on one of the closer displays. "If there is no access to water, she's probably elsewhere. Why don't you check the next level. I want to check out this area."
The older man nodded at the detective and left, happy to be of assistance. Blair fought a grin as he recognized Jim's ploy. After the man left, he quietly closed the hall doors and turned to his partner.
"Good work. Now, you have her scent locked down?" Blair's voice paused for the Sentinel's nod. "Okay, piggyback your hearing to your sense of smell. Listen for her heartbeat. There shouldn't be anyone else here. Once you have her heartbeat locked in, then you can focus on finding her location."
The deep voice kept him from zoning on the scents. He linked his hearing to the scents, focusing on the upper level of the hall, near the air vents. It took him a moment and then he heard her. The soft thump of her heart as it pushed blood through her body. He listened, hearing the irregular and rapid pace that denoted a problem. Then she whimpered, a low-pitched cry that broke off almost before she could finish it. They needed to get to her fast.
He frowned, tracing the sound and the scent. She was on the far side of the long hallway. There. He opened his eyes and followed the sound up into the rafters. He could see the opening but could not believe it. He looked again, but that was the only opening in the wall.
"I found her, Chief." The clipped tone made his Guide pause.
"And the news is?" Blair's pale face told its story. He was worried and getting more so.
"She's up there." He pointed up into the rafters, focusing on the little opening. Scaffolding went partially up to the ceiling. From there, a system of strung ropes and wires traced patterns through the air, linking the scaffolding to the open rafters and joists. This was not going to be easy, even for him. The thought of Blair trying to cross the open spaces was enough to make him pause uncertainly.
"Aw, great. This is absolutely great!" Blair's eyes went wide as he measured the height involved and the distance between the ropes. The panic in the smaller man's eyes slowly made its way to his face, hardening it. The jaw tensed, causing harsh planes to form. The look that he gave Jim was icy with despair. "Why did she have to go to ground twenty feet up? She knows how I feel about heights."
"Stay here. I'll climb up and take a look."
"No. You can't go up there without me to watch your back." The anthropologist sounded resigned.
"I'll be fine, Sandburg. You can stay here and talk me through any zones from the ground."
They slowly walked over to the scaffolding. Jim paused, removing his jacket before beginning his climb. There, smeared against one of the steel poles was a patch of dried blood. He looked at it, noting the height and the amount. Fortaleza was bleeding again. It was very possible she had ripped out her stitches just trying to climb the scaffolding.
The climb up the scaffolding was easy. The rungs and break levels had been set for someone much shorter than he was. It had probably been arranged for Fortaleza. He remembered how small she'd seemed when he'd held her earlier that night. She was easily a good three or four inches shorter than Sandburg. It only took him minutes to reach the top level. From there he looked at the oddly spaced ropes.
Fortaleza had set them up in a way that made him look twice. He studied the ropes and smiled. It looked like there was only one path in which all the ropes were anchored securely. The others were weighted with flying artifacts, stabilized high rising displays, or were rigged to be unstable. He could see the netting that would soon hold up a false forest canopy. Part of the room was already covered by the canopy. In a few days this tangle of ropes would be hidden, as would be her hiding place. Even now it was hard to find. If he hadn't been a Sentinel, he'd have never found it.
"Can you get over to her?" Blair's voice in his ear made him turn around. The younger man's knuckles were white from his grip on the railing. His face was pale and tense.
"I thought I told you to stay on the ground!"
"Yeah, you did. But a Guide stays with his Sentinel." The wry grin was lopsided. He ducked the cuff that headed his way. "Come on, man, let's get this done so we can get down."
"This time you stay put!" Ellison growled threateningly.
"Me? Cross the room on a rope? No way!"
The tight voiced reply almost reassured him. He grinned at his friend and grabbed a rope. Blair's quiet moan accompanied him away from the scaffold.
The journey was far easier than he'd expected. Between his added height and heavier weight, Jim found that the ropes were spaced almost perfectly for him. What to the woman was probably a slight reach was to him a simple hand-off. Where the ropes would have swung crazily under a lesser weight, his weight steadied them, slowed their swing.
Finally, he reached the opening in the wall. It looked like an air vent, its metal grill partially disguised by cream colored paint. He looked around, wondering how she'd first found this place. None of the ceiling joists came near the grill. He shook his head and tugged gently. The hinged grill opened quietly, releasing the scent of fresh oil.
Jim winced as he pulled himself into the vent. It was going to be a tight fit. He slid himself in the opening and noticed that after an abrupt turn, it opened into a decent tunnel. This was definitely not an air vent, even if it was connected to the air system. The stone walls suddenly opened out into a small room, no more than six feet to a side. It had no other entrance that he could see, but somehow the room displayed an airiness that was unexpected. He decided it had to be due to the painted murals on the walls and ceiling, all light colored forest scenes.
He stared, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. What was this room doing here? He scanned the room quickly. He could see the marks where heavy shelving had been removed. A soft sound made him turn his attention away from the puzzle. He would have to remember to ask Blair about it. The anthropologist would find the answer, if he didn't already know it.
Against the far wall was a huddled, shivering figure in a nest of heavy blankets. As his eyes rapidly adjusted to the room, he noticed an abundance of supplies. The room was stocked as if she expected to stay a long time. There was no way she had done this on the spur of the moment. This practically shouted that she expected trouble and planned ahead for it. He frowned as he began to get a picture that he really didn't want to see. Either she was being hunted or she knew something that she hadn't told them about. The fear and paranoia that would provoke this kind of a response was too close to bad memories of his own. He tried to shake off the feeling as he knelt beside the figure.
Fortaleza was still and pale, her skin cold and clammy to his fingertips. At his touch, her eyes flew open and she turned, looking at him in shock. The move made her inhale sharply from pain, trying to stifle her outcry. Pale silvery green eyes met his and focused on him.
"Go away, Sentinel. Go take care of your Guide and your village." Her whispered words hit him hard, brought the entire focus of his eyes on hers.
"How did you know?"
"Not the first I've met. It's obvious if you know what to look for. Besides I was told there was a Sentinel in Washington." She whispered softly, painfully. The bruises she had received stood out darkly against her pale skin. She lay passively, watching him with dull eyes.
"You worried Sandburg."
"How?"
"The hospital called him when you disappeared."
"Sorry. I didn't think they would." She turned her head away from his, shrugging further under the wool blanket.
"Come on, he's waiting for us." Some instinct kept him from grabbing her and pulling her out of her warm nest. He didn't want her to bolt. The chances that she might get out of the room were too great. She could easily end up on the floor below the tunnel, badly hurt, if he wasn't careful.
"Tell him I'm sorry and to go home."
"He won't leave without you."
When she made no attempt to move, Jim sat next to her, taking in the information her body could not hide from his senses. Either the medication from the hospital or the concussion had her eyes slightly unfocused. Her heart beat rapidly, skipping an occasional beat. Her shivers were acute, the temperature of the skin under his gently questing fingers low, well below normal. Her breathing was shallow and there was the first trace of congestion in the sound of one lung. With a sigh, he raised her to a sitting position and began unbuttoning her shirt. When she grabbed his wrist, he pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and into her hand He then slipped the shirt from her shoulders impassively. Blood stained her camisole over the thickness of her bandaged wound. Raising his eyebrow, he gestured at it. Fortaleza closed her eyes, tactically granting him permission to look. He moved her camisole out of the way. As he touched the bandage, she curled forward from the pain of his touch. The blanket slipped from her grasp, baring her back and shoulders before she could grab it.
Jim inhaled sharply at the sight. Her back was covered with old scars, the skin seamed with the marks of a whip. The tattoos that circled her upper arms before crossing her upper back and shoulders were ones he recognized from his past. She shivered, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
"Who are you?" He asked softly, not really wanting the answer. He didn't want to hear what he already knew. He didn't want her to confirm that an old debt had just been called in. The band of tattoos marked a promise, life for life, between the Walks Through People and Chopec People. During his time with the Chopec, Incacha had told him how the Walks Through People had arrived in time to help the Chopec fight off a group of drug manufacturers. In exchange for that assistance, the Chopec promised to keep an eye out for one of the Walks Through, the one they called the Hildalga. Incacha had taught Jim the tattoos that marked Hildalga's shoulders, making him promise to keep an eye on the wandering amaru if he ever met her. "You can't be... you are way too young."
"I am no one. Please, just go away. I won't bother you or your Guide." Even to a Sentinel's hearing her words were almost inaudible. She refused to look at him as she burrowed deeper into the blankets. Jim sighed. It was obvious that if he let her get away with it, she would ignore both that debt and her own illness. Unfortunately, no matter how much he would like to, he couldn't let her get away with either action.
"I'll leave if you come too. We need to get back to Sandburg soon, he's getting impatient out there." Jim kept his voice low, coaxing. Every story Sandburg had told him about her had been full of color and action. Even the few times he had met her, she had been a bundle of carefully caged energy, totally focused on her goal of defusing the tension and worries of the Sentinel. She had done a very good job of it, too, he mused. It would have been easier if she had called in the debt the Chopec owed her. Instead she had stood on her own, letting Jim make up his own mind about her. Today she was pale and quiet, the complete opposite of what he'd expected. In fact, she appeared fragile. She looked too young to be the respected anthropologist he knew her to be. He smiled grimly as he realized that he was still skirting the problem of her tribal affiliations, even in his own mind.
"Go, take him home. I'll see him in a few days, when I feel better." She murmured, her eyes meeting his, steely with determination. She forced herself to sit straight, but he could tell it was an effort. "I am just a little tired right now."
"I can't leave you here and you know it. You need to go back to the hospital. You're going into shock." Jim spoke, softly as he began to lift her up.
AJ's eyes widened and with a sudden move, she broke his hold and skittered away from him. Resting against the far wall, she stared in his direction. Her pulse was racing, her breathing was rapid. The fear in her eyes was reflected in the scent of her sweat. Her voice was suddenly harsh and broken. "No! I'm not going to any hospital. I'm fine!"
"You left blood tracks on the way here."
"I tripped. The bleeding stopped hours ago." The lie was loud to his senses, as her heart skipped at the lie.
"I smell fresh blood. You need treatment."
"No hospitals. I'd rather die first." Her words were firm and unequivocal. Jim read her heartbeat , the tension in her body and the controlled panic in her eyes. There was little room for doubt in her serious words. She would really rather die than go back.
"All right, no hospitals." Jim knew when to give in. This was not a battle for today. Not if he wanted to help her now. He might be able to overpower her, but from the look of terror on her face, it would be a hard fight. She didn't have the resources to waste on that fight, so he had to find another way to take care of her. "Look, I was a medic in the army. Let me take a look at it. If the stitches aren't torn out I can just rebandage your wound and then I'll leave you alone."
She stared at him, her green eyes measuring him, reading his intentions for a long moment. Finally, with a slow, regal nod she agreed. Jim released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Silently, he pulled the blanket away from her side and knew it was going to be bad. He stared at the blood soaked bandage. He gently ran his hand along it, dialing his sense of touch up to feel through the gauze. Even that much pressure was too much. She jerked away and he barely caught her as she nearly passed out from the pain. He bit back a curse and laid her on the nest of blankets. A moment later, he was racing through the short tunnel.
"Sandburg!" His voice echoed through the vacant hall. His partner looked over at him, startled by his abrupt appearance. He hoped his Guide would understand what he needed. "I need the medical kit and she'll need the spare coat."
Blair paled, understanding dawning on his face. He looked around and noticed that the security guard still hadn't returned. He gestured slightly, holding out his cell phone. The Sentinel thought for a moment and then shook his head. If the woman was this adamant against hospitals, they'd have to restrain her to keep her there. That idea bothered him. If she really had a reason to fear, she'd be defenseless. He couldn't do that; he'd promised not to send her to the hospital.
The younger man raced down the ladder, nearly flying down to the floor. Jim watched his partner, wondering if he'd end up taking care of two wounded people. Shaking his head, he slid back through the tunnel and into the room. He needed to get that bleeding stopped now.
Blair stood at the top of the scaffolding and took a deep breath. He really didn't want to do this, but he had a feeling it was necessary. He could always just yell for Jim, but what if he distracted him at a bad moment. The Sentinel wanted his medical kit, and that meant AJ was hurt so he didn't want to make it worse.
Having made his decision, he stripped off his coat and laid it next to the spare he had brought with the medkit. Then he tied the medical kit to his belt and reached out for a rope. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and sent a prayer out to whichever deity kept an eye out for Guides. This had to be one of the worst ideas he'd ever had. He just hoped he remembered the path Jim had taken earlier.
Jim was trying to get Fortaleza to drink some water from one of her canteens when he heard the noise. He looked up, trying to analyze the sound. He heard the soft whoosh of air as it was forcibly displaced from his Guide's lungs. It was followed by the quiet, almost inaudible, groan as a rope received his weight. The next sound was the gentle shush of his passage through the air. Throughout the whole was the rapid tattoo of his terrified heartbeat.
It only took Jim a moment to recognize the importance of those sounds. His Guide was crossing the ropes, coming to his assistance. *He was going to kill Sandburg*. What was the younger man thinking to risk himself like this. He growled to himself, causing the young woman's eyes to open.
"Shh, it's okay. I'll be right back." He gently settled her back onto her nest of blankets, trying to reassure her.
"Sandburg?" The pale woman's eyes lit up with amusement. He watched her momentarily, his emotions warring between curiosity and unease. For all of Blair's denials, he kept wondering exactly what was between them. At his nod, she smiled and closed her eyes. Her words and tone were laughing, echoing his feeling of confused bemusement exactly. "He will not let you do anything without his help? Typical Blair. Go rescue your Guide before he gets into trouble."
He grimaced and then had to chuckle. It sounded like she knew his partner fairly well. He looked up as he listened to Blair's progress. The worry reasserted itself and he turned away, sliding through the narrow entranceway. At the vent grill he paused, watching as the long-haired man caught the last rope. Maybe he should get him to audition for the next Tarzan movie, he looked like a natural if you ignored the pale face. Nah, Sandburg would not like the suggestion.
Wordlessly, he reached out his hand as Blair approached the vent. The other man's eyes met his, focusing on his face and refusing to look anywhere else. Blair's firmly controlled fear reflected strongly enough in his eyes to make Jim's stomach turn. Once again he was angry with Fortaleza for putting them through this. When she wasn't so ill he was going to have to discuss endangering Blair with her. She had given him her word and he meant to see that she kept it.
Blair's hand met his and gripped hard, the muscles in his forearms straining. With an effortless tug, the ex-Ranger pulled him into the tunnel. Although no longer crossing the gulf between the hideaway and the scaffolding, he was still shaky from fear. The gasping breaths, racing heart, and sweaty skin could all be attributed to his exertions, but not the complete collapse of his muscles.
"Easy, Chief. You made it." Jim kept his words soft, as he comforted his friend. He looked across the distance, still mildly surprised that Sandburg had crossed it on his own without any encouragement or assistance.
After a moment, he gently relieved him of the medical pack and began backing down the narrow passageway. No matter how much he wanted to remain with his partner, Jim knew he had to get back to the hidden room.
"How is she?" Blair's eyes were worried as he slowly followed the Sentinel through he tunnel.
"She tore out some of her stitches and she's shocky. " The detective's voice was harsh as it grated against the stone walls. "She refused to go back to the hospital to get them fixed."
"And you're not taking her there anyway?" The smaller man was looking at him curiously, his eyes filled with amazement. "Why? I've seen you bully Simon into taking care of himself. I won't even comment about you being my personal 'mother-hen'. So how does she get away it? The famous 'Jim Ellison blessed protector to the rescue' syndrome should be going full throttle by now. Are you saying its not?"
"She reacts to the word 'hospital' worse than you react to heights. It's a gut level reaction, pure and utter terror." Jim's voice was flat, his jaw tense. He looked away and then back, meeting the other man's eyes, his own bleak. "If she even thinks she's going back to the hospital she'll bolt..."
"And this time, we wouldn't find her." The anthropologist finished the unspoken thought quietly.
"Not before it was too late." He responded coldly, knowing it would hurt his friend if something happened to her. He lowered himself into the room, turning and heading for Fortaleza.
Behind him, he heard Blair pause before slowly whistling in amazement as he took in the view. There was a slight quaver in the sound as the full effect of the hidden room took effect. Each wall was covered in a floor to ceiling mural. Waterfalls and trees, nymphs and dryads, wildlife and whimsical animals turned the walls into a beautiful forest glade. The ceiling was painted a soft blue with a few traces of whispy clouds crossing it. The tunnel that had led into the room appeared to be a hole in one of the trees.
Although small, between the murals and muted lighting that came from partially concealed openings and vents, the room made quite an impression. After a moment, he jumped down the slight distance, still trying to accept the sight. His words were barely breathed, much less spoken, "Oh, my... I had heard rumors about a hidden room, but this is... wow!"
"Like it, Blair?" AJ's accent was a pale imitation of its normal sassy sound.
He smiled at her, crossing the room rapidly to crouch beside her. "Oh, yeah, it's nice. You're a good decorator. So, you built this when you built the musuem?"
She chuckled and grimaced. "Don' make me laugh, chibato."
Jim looked up from the medical supplies he was unpacking. Catching his partner's eye, he motioned for him to support her and gently helped her sit up. The younger man slid behind her, holding her upright, while the older man quickly striped the layered blankets off her. He then cut the bloody bandage and removed it. AJ watched impassively, only looking away when Blair gripped her hand in reassurance. When the Sentinel pulled out a vial of painkiller from his kit and began to prep the needle, she frowned and stopped him.
"No." her voice was cold.
"Look, kid." Jim's voice was hard-edged. "If you want to stay out of the hospital..."
"No drugs." She wrapped her hand around his, covering the syringe. She turned to the younger man, noting his pale face, and grimaced. "Get my medicine bag, please."
"AJ, Jim's not too keen on alternative drugs."
"Do it!" Her eyes flashed fiercely, as she glared at him. She turned back to Ellison. "Please, no drugs, they're not worth the problems they will cause. I have other things that will keep me still while you retie the stitches. Ones that won't cause the kinds of reactions modern drugs do."
Jim's jaw clenched tightly, the back teeth grinding together. With a small smile, she ran her finger along the twitching muscle. He closed his eyes, trying not to lose his temper with her. When he reopened his eyes, she smiled again and held out a small tube of ointment. He inhaled, testing the scent and relaxing. He recognized it as a mixture of painkiller and germicide that Incacha had used on him long ago. He nodded and took the vial from her fingers.
"Thank you, Enqueri." Lines of pain formed on her face as she let them slowly settle her back onto the nest of blankets. Her eyes closed in relief as the Sentinel spread the ointment on her wound.
"Jim?" Blair's voice made him look around. The younger man was watching them curiously. "You never told me that you knew her."
"I don't, Blair." He looked away to grab the suture kit. He looked back up to meet the confused eyes of his Guide. "She knows me. Her people have known the Chopec for a long time. I'd say she probably knew who I was as soon as she made the connection between my time in Peru and the Chopec."
Jim's hands moved rapidly as he cleaned the torn flesh. The only movement the young woman made was when she breathed. He probed gently, reassuring himself that the ribs were only bruised, not broken. When he was ready to place the stitches, he touched her cheek with a light finger. Her eyes sprang open and focused on his. Seeing the look on his face, she took a deep breath and set her jaw before nodding to him.
"Blair, even with this stuff, she is going to react when I put the stitches in. I need you to hold her down. Don't let her move." Jim kept his voice low, knowing that even if she heard him, she didn't need to hear his worry. He could not believe that he was doing this. As he finished preparing the suture, he glanced again at the odd-colored tattoos on her bared shoulder, reminding himself of the reason he was going against his better judgment. "Ready?"
Blair moved to kneel at AJ's head and rested his weight on her upper arms. He nodded and watched as his partner straddled her legs. Their eyes met and then Jim looked down to begin stitching the woman's wound. Blair wondered exactly what she was holding over the big man. He'd rarely seen him back down and yet he did for Fortaleza.
At the first touch of the needle, she tensed and then her body froze. Blair looked down to see her eyes fix themselves on the ceiling and then they were blank. It was almost as if she was gone, no longer there. He swallowed thickly, wondering how he was going to bring her back.
"One more stitch." Jim's voice was hard, as were his eyes. Part of him wanted to rage at the way things were going and the other part just wanted to turn back time and send the troublesome woman back to South America. He tied off the last stitch and looked up as he prepared the new bandages. "Done. Wake her up, Chief."
"I don't know how." Blair looked down at the unfocused eyes. He raised a hand to her face and stroked her cheek. He tried using his Guide voice that worked so well when Jim was zoning. "AJ. AJ, come on. Wake up."
She didn't respond. He stared at her and then realized that her skin had turned clammy and was getting cooler. He moved his hand to her chest and felt the slow moving heartbeat, measuring the shallow breaths. He slapped her cheek lightly, his own heart rate picking up. Then he felt her heart skip a beat. "Don't do this, please, AJ This is, like, so not good for my karma."
Jim taped the bandage over the new stitches and frowned. He pulled her camisole back down over the bandage before slapping her lightly on the cheek. When she stayed motionless, he shook her shoulder, putting a bit of force into the movement. As she continued lying passively, ignoring them both, he felt his temper snap. He growled low in his chest. He hadn't wanted to do this. He hadn't wanted to listen to her fears and allow her to avoid the hospital. There was no way he was going to allow her to get away with this, too.
He moved abruptly, pulling Fortaleza up against his chest. Her unfocused eyes stared at him as he began speaking in a harsh growl. Quechua words fell from his lips as he vented his fury. Her eyes finally stirred and focused on him, wrinkling in confusion before comprehension dawned.
"Enqueri?" She whispered at his vehemence. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go that far."
"DON'T DO THAT AGAIN!" The low roar echoed in the small room.
"OK, no more trances." She whispered, swallowing rapidly at his fury. Her eyes barely met his as she asked the Sentinel, "let me down now?"
Furious eyes, like pale lasers burned into her eyes. The steely grip on her shoulders was going to leave bruises. She could already feel them forming. AJ didn't try to move, she knew better. She'd heard about his anger and had been warned never to rouse it against herself. She'd read his files, she knew what he was capable of doing and she had still gotten him angry. Now she was paying the price for her error. Then he spoke again, still holding his anger barely under control. "If you ever scare Blair like that again, ever make his heart race in fear, I will make you regret it. Do you understand me, Hidalga?"
"Uh, Jim..." Blair tried to speak, but Jim's icy glare silenced him.
AJ blushed. Ellison had finally recognized her. She had hoped he would not put two and two together, but it was too late now. Like it or not she had a Sentinel keeping an eye on her again. When he realized she purposefully avoided him for the past few weeks, he would be even more unhappy. It was much easier to search Cascade without being under a Sentinel's care. Still, she did not want the Sentinel to be angry, much less angry with her. She had some serious bridge building to do. Her voice was soft, rueful. "Yes, Enqueri. I'm sorry I scared you, Blair. I'm sorry if I worried either of you."
"I promised to keep an eye on the Hidalga, if I ever met her. The Chopec owe the Walks People and we promised to watch out for you. Incacha warned me that you were very good at both getting into trouble and hiding it. You're almost as good at it as Sandburg is." The Sentinel's fingers loosened as his voice lowered. When he was certain she could sit without his assistance, he released her shoulders. He looked around for a moment and then shrugged, unbuttoning his shirt. He removed it and wrapped it around her, over the blankets she had pulled protectively to her chin. Once it was buttoned, he tugged on the blanket. "Let go and put your arms through the sleeves."
"I can do it, myself." Her protest was muffled as he dropped a sweater, donated by Blair, over her head.
"Let him do it. He's in Blessed Protector mode." The younger man watched with amusement as his partner gently manhandled her into the sweater. "It's a lot easier than trying to argue with him."
"Really? So speaks the voice of experience?" Sarcasm dripped from her soft voice. Once she was clothed, she curled back into the nest of blankets. Her words were slurred as she closed her eyes. "How long did you say you were staying?"
"You're not getting rid of us that easily. In fact, you're coming with us." Jim smiled grimly at the shocked expression on her face. He looked over at Blair who nodded in agreement and turned to start packing the few bags in the room. The big man turned back to his patient and began pushing socks onto her feet.
"Jim?" Blair stopped his packing in shock as he stared at a bottle. His voice was quiet, but it caught both of the others' attention. He picked it up and double-checked the prescription. The original label was Spanish, but it was covered with translation stickers identifying it in many languages. He opened it and peered inside at the massive quinine pills. "What are the symptoms of malaria? Does missing your medicine have side effects?"
Jim looked at the bottle and back at the wary eyed woman. He frowned. "Fever, chills, shakes, blurry vision, occasionally delirium, especially when the quinine is mixed with other drugs. That's not even taking into account the fact that the more time between onset and first dose of medication, the longer you're ill. You are even more trouble than I'd expected. How long ago did the symptoms show up? Have you taken any of this yet.?"
"Three hours ago, while I was on my way here." Reluctantly she sat up, frowning as she tried to remember if she'd taken any quinine before drifting off into sleep. She shrugged at the lack of memory and winced as her wound reminded her of the reasons to avoid that movement. Her voice was a mere whisper as she admitted, "I don't remember taking any quinine."
"Finish packing her stuff, Chief. I'll be back for you as soon as I get her down safely." The big man scooped her up into his arms and headed for the tunnel.
"Wait. There's an easier way out." She finally gave up. There was no way she was going to out argue the Sentinel. Ellison could win this one. Besides, she really didn't want the younger man to have to go through the maze again, not with his fear of heights. It was too firmly drilled into her upbringing to risk a Guide for any reason. Sentinels were rare and to be respected for their abilities. Guides were just as rare but they seemed to have an amazing ability to get into trouble which meant they were not to be enticed into more trouble. Especially when this Guide's Sentinel was already upset with her. She would argue with them another time and another place. "Press the water nymph's eye."
Blair finished stuffing things into her bags and stood. He slowly circled the room, looking at the murals until he spotted the one he was looking for. A life-sized nymph, dancing in a waterfall was staring down at him. With a grin for the picture, he reached up and tapped the nymph's eye. A low groan announced the opening door in the wall.
"Cool, secret passages and hidden rooms. Any other surprises?" He commented quietly. She ignored him as they entered the passageway.
AJ wriggled and came into contact with a source of warmth. Finally, she'd found something warm to hold onto. Instantly, she curled into the warmth, snuggling down and latching on to the heat source. As she tried to burrow herself deeper into it and away from the frigid air, hands began pushing her away. Vaguely she heard voices.
"Chief, you're going to have to hold onto her. I can't drive with her in my lap."
The voice was more annoyed than angry. It was speaking English, why on earth English? Was she with another American group? She started to drifted away again as firm hands and arms wrapped around her, pulling her up against someone else. This person was not as warm, though. She started to pull away from him but stopped, listening to the mellow murmur in her ear.
"Easy, AJ. We're almost there." One hand strayed to her forehead. "Jim, she burning up, man. Maybe we should take her to the hospital. They're better equipped to handle this kind of thing."
AJ's eyes flew open and she began fighting the arm around her waist. It refused to let go, so she resorted to dirty tricks. The feel of her head slamming into his chin was painful, doubling the pounding headache she already had. The mix of pain and dizziness nearly knocked her out. The voice retreated, moaning, but he didn't release her waist. Vaguely she heard both voices cursing and yelling as she struggled
.
She kept fighting, trying to break free. She only knew that she had to get away, nothing else mattered. The car? Truck? slid across the road as one of her failing fists hit the driver's side. She could hear her own voice, but it sounded wrong. Too far away, too unreal, too young to be her. It had to be a nightmare, but she couldn't wake up.
"No! Lemme go!" The oddly too-young voice spoke again, cracking and breaking as it did.
"Hidalga!" The first voice roared, slamming the sound into her ears. When she winced it toned down, lowering enough to be bearable. The truck, yeah, it sounded like a truck, not a car, was brought back into control. "No one's taking you to the hospital. I promise."
"Cross your heart?" She tried to focus her eyes on the speaker but couldn't. Her head pounded painfully, distracting her...
She wasn't sure she could trust the voice. She knew how gentle a voice could sound and how cruel the actions it covered. The arm around her loosened, thinking she was quiet and calm now. She slipped free. As the hands grabbed for her, she unlatched the door and dove over the person sitting there. The hands caught the overly large coat and she slipped out of it, landing in a bank of snow. Cold, oh it was so cold... she could feel her tears freezing on her cheeks. She scrambled to her feet, looking around, trying to make sense of what she could see.
Falling snow, white swirls of blowing, falling snow. She remembered snow, lots and lots of snow. Snow for building snowmen and forts and having battles with her brothers and cousins. But that was from a long time ago... how did she know it was a long time ago. WHERE WAS SHE? Snow meant she was near her home. She began to run, run away from where she'd been. But hadn't she made a promise never to go back home again? AJ stopped, confused, maybe if her head would stop pounding, she could think better. Slowly, she turned around, trying to figure out where she was. How close was she? Maybe if she was not too close to home things would be okay.
The buildings and the street were deserted. There were no people visible, only snow, snow covered streets, buildings, vehicles, and falling snow. Everything was white and shades of gray and white tinged with blue. Everything wavered and blurred alarmingly. How could this be? Where was her sight? She made out a blue pickup truck, sitting on the road, heat still rising from its hood. Its doors were hanging open as if it had been abandoned suddenly. Movement caught her eyes. The passenger was approaching her cautiously. He was young and the face was familiar. His presence was not a surprise. Or was it? Where were her brothers? Where was she? She shook her head in confusion and the motion made the world spin.
"AJ? Take it easy. You're sick and need to get out of the snow." His voice was so concerned for her. Blair! That was his name, she knew him! But why was he calling her AJ? That wasn't her name, not really. At least she didn't think it was. She couldn't remember what her new name was supposed to be. Maybe she hadn't told him her name. No, she trusted him... she thought she did. AJ... yeah, that was what her knew name was. Blair felt safe, safe enough to trust. Her instincts were usually right, but she couldn't remember whether she had really trusted him, or had just befriended him.
She was surprised by strong arms coming around her, pinning her arms to her sides. The man behind her knew her moves before she made them. Even as she tried to fight him, he forced her to stop. She turned her head to look at the man holding her. He was a grim-faced man, but not one of the ones she had learned to fear. He was angry with her. Too angry. . . Enqueri was not a good man to anger. He had held the pass for so long... all alone.
Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of the images that danced in them. No! Now was not the time for visions, not without preparation. Flames and knives slithered behind her eyelids as she shook her head, whimpering against the invasion. She bit her lip, using the pain to vanquish them, forcing herself to focus on the man holding her so tightly.
"No, Hidalga. You're not going anywhere but home." The voice was calm, holding in all the fury she could see in his expression. She lost her thread of thought as her past slammed through fever weakened barriers. She feared the controlled ones with good reason. The fear multiplied as he gently wrapped his hands around her wrists. "Blair and I are not going to hurt you. We are not the enemy."
"You'll just kill me, too. Just like they killed the others." She couldn't keep from crying. She should not have come back, she wasn't ready to die. As if for the first time, she recognized the Guide whose blue eyes were fixed on her. A Guide! Training took over, as her skewed thoughts screamed for her to protect the Guide. Maybe she could protect him, buy his safety. "Just leave Blair alone. Let him go. I'll do whatever you want, just let him go. He's innocent, I didn't tell him anything, I promise."
"Shh." The voice was gentle in her ear as it interrupted her. Her head was tucked under the man's chin in an oddly comforting embrace. The warmth he passed on to her was heavenly. His quiet murmurs in her ears slowly sank into her fevered thoughts. Suddenly, the knowledge of who he was cleared her brain. Ellison could not hurt her, not without reason. "Remember who I am, know I won't hurt you. I won't let anything happen to Blair either. It's just the fever talking. . ."
The other figure joined the embrace, lending them his warmth. The two men slid her arms over their shoulders and escorted her to the waiting blue truck. AJ let go. She was too tired to fight the deep voiced man. Too tired to argue anymore. She wanted to find a way to set Blair free. He was too nice, too bright to end up like the others. The memories of past sacrifices, ones neither she nor massive government mobilization had been able to stop, flashed through her mind. She was supposed to be doing something, but she couldn't quite remember what it was. For now, though ,she couldn't think straight, much less crooked. She leaned her head against one of the chests beside her and let that man pick her up. She felt herself dimming as the adrenaline rush faded and relaxed into his arms.
"Sandburg, if you mention the 'H' word again, I promise I'll gag you." The voice rumbled in the chest under her ear. She felt herself placed on a seat and strapped into place.
"Sorry, man. I didn't think she'd hear me or freak out like that." The mellow voice, Blair's voice, spoke again. The breathy words stirred her hair as he wrapped himself around her.
"Yeah, I figured that out on my own." Doors closed and the engine started. There was a pause before the voice continued thoughtfully. "Chief, before she passed out again, she tried to buy your safety. She thought you were in danger."
"What? What is that supposed mean?" The body around hers clung tightly, the hug strengthening.
"I don't know."
Jim pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. He closed his eyes in relief, fighting off the pain that throbbed through his temples. He'd thought the trip out to the museum had been hard. He hadn't counted on the snowstorm worsening or one of his passengers panicking and running out into it. Cascade snowstorms were rare, and one this early in the fall was unheard of, so the city was caught unprepared. That meant the roads were dangerous, even for someone with enhanced senses. They had been lucky to make it back to the loft in one piece.
He glanced over at his passengers. Blair had curled himself around Fortaleza, holding her securely against his chest and pinning her hands in his own. He blearily opened his eyes and looked around. A half-hearted smile crossed his face as he realized that they were at the loft. He began unwrapping his limbs from the still figure.
Fortaleza barely stirred as the young man slipped out from behind her. Jim reached and lightly shook her. Her eyes opened and looked at him groggily before closing again. With a sigh, he pulled her across the seat and into his arms. As she snuggled into his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her fever had disappeared again and he didn't like it. Even with the truck's heater on high, she seemed to be suffering the first stages of hypothermia. Between her wet clothes and trying to fight off the malarial attack, she didn't have much of a chance fighting off the drop in body temperature. If he thought he could make it to the hospital in this storm, he would take her there. Promise or no promise.
Night, Incacha. her whisper was soft. The Quechua words were spoken in a childlike voice. He frowned, wondering where her mind had wandered this time. The young woman was hiding a lot of things and he didn't like the conclusions that were coming to mind. For all that she seemed shy, from experience he knew that there was steel in Fortaleza. Whatever it was she saw in her delirium, it was bad enough to terrify her. Something that could terrify her into pleading for Blair's life bothered Jim. Especially since the thoughts that came to his mind were ominous when he considered the unassuming files he had gotten on her. The whole thing smelled of a cover-up, a nasty one.
Hidalga, it's Enqueri. He whispered to the wet bundle in his arms.
Hello, Enqueri. The eyes opened and looked at him, barely focusing. It's cold, like at home.
Where's home? He asked her as he followed Blair up the stairs. The other man looked up curiously at the their whispered voices.
Home is death. She closed her eyes and drifted off again. He listened to her heart rate drop and steady in sleep. Her breathing calmed as she slowly slid back into unconsciousness.
"Jim? What's wrong?" Blair's urgent voice cut through his thoughts.
He looked up at his partner and shrugged. He wasn't really sure how to explain it to him. How could he tell Blair that he wanted him to stay clear of this woman. She attracted trouble almost as fast as his friend did and he was afraid that the consequences of the two of them together would be catastrophic. And, as was par for the course, Blair considered her a friend. All of his instincts were screaming that she was hiding something. And whatever it was, was bad. He frowned down at the woman lying so innocently in his arms and strode into the loft.
Jim adjusted the water, testing it carefully. Satisfied that it was safe for treating Fortaleza's mild hypothermia, he stood and headed for the living room. As soon as Blair returned with clothes, for her they could begin the process of bringing her temperature back up to normal.
"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Blair's voice came from another room. "I mean, the way she's drifting in and out, she could drown."
"She needs to be warmed and fast, Chief. I'll hold her upright in the water until her temperature is closer to normal" Jim glanced over at the younger man as he headed for the living room. He half wished he knew more about the woman.
Incacha had told him a little about the tattooed Walks Through tribe and even less about the Hidalga. The Chopec shaman had warned him that Hidalga was one of the sagrado, the ones who literally ran the old roads through the mountains, always fighting the bad spirits that tried to destroy the old ways. Any tribe allied to the Walks Through People could call for their aid and one of their sagrado would come. If it was more than a sagrado could handle, others from the Walks Through would join them.
According to legend, the Walks Through had held off a regiment of the Conquistadores long enough for their tribesmen to scatter into the mountains, guaranteeing their people's survival with the loss of every man over the age of adulthood. To keep their people from dying off, the refugees adopted the fleeing survivors of other tribes, forged alliances with already established tribes in the area, and became known for their ability to come and go with very little trace.
When Chopec children were found on the steps of an old temple, Incacha sent out runners begging for another shaman to help him stop the evil that hid in the old walls. Instead of a shaman, the Walks Through people came. Before that they had never traded with the Chopec, they came because one of their sagrado wanted to answer Incacha's call for help. It cost them dearly to wipe out the drug manufacturers that were using the temple as a place to store their refined product. The Walks Through people only asked that the Chopec watch out for thier Hildalga, who was prone to leaping into fires without sending for help first. Incacha and the rest of the Chopec swore to watch out for the sagrado.
When Jim joined the tribe, Incacha made him promise to memorize the pattern of the Hidalga's tattoos, saying the Chopec owed that one more than they could ever repay. But he hadn't said anything about the Hidalga being so young. He understood that to the Chopec and other tribes of Peru adulthood came early, but it still threw him to think about it.
Jim shook himself, clearing his head as he noted she had moved. The blankets were still draped on the sofa, but Fortaleza was gone. He hadn't even heard her move. He looked up to see that she was curled up next to the wood stove, not quite close enough to touch it.
"What are you doing up?" He asked as he crouched next to her. She turned her head, eyes still closed as she listened to him. "I thought you were out for a while."
"Hello. Where am I?" Fortaleza asked, eyes opening and watching him. According to Incacha, Hidalga was as dangerous as she was honored by the tribe. All of the sagrado were considered dangerous, like edged weapons that must be handled carefully. Sagrado were known by their tattoos, the more they had on their arms, the more tribes they knew. The more tribes, the less likely they were to live to an old age. Fortaleza's tattoos formed bands as wide as his hands, promising as many enemies as allies. He hated getting caught between his old life and his current one, especially when it involved his time in Peru but he could feel the winds of change coming.
"Cascade." He gently used one hand to tilt her head, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Do you know who I am?"
"Detective James Ellison, Enqueri, Sentinel." She replied, shivering and trying to get closer to the fire. Jim nodded, accepting her words and her relaxation as what they truly were, a cessation of the silent battle for control between them. Maybe she wouldn't tell him everything, but once she accepted that he was a Sentinel and she was in his territory, Fortaleza was honor bound to accept his assistance, protection, and to a minor degree orders. It would make his life a lot easier.
"Come on, let's get you into the bath." He gripped her arms lightly and pulled her to her feet. He kept encouraging her softly. "That's a girl. You can do it."
She leaned on him, concentrating on moving her feet. The Sentinel wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting and guiding her to the bathroom. Once there, he sat her down and began stripping her of the borrowed coat and shirts. She stared dully at him, shivering even more as the cool air hit her skin. As he pulled her up onto her feet, her skin formed goose bumps in reaction to the chilly room. He noted her shivers and sped his movements. Fortaleza tried to help but her numb fingers only got in the way so Jim deftly pinned them in one hand. Within moments, he'd removed her wet shoes, socks and pants, leaving only her underwear and lifted her into the warm water.
Her knees promptly folded and she sank down into the tub. Fortaleza groaned as the warmth wrapped itself around her cold body. She closed her eyes with a blissful smile and began to slide under the water. Jim had to move quickly to catch her, barely keeping her from submerging completely.
"No, you don't." At the sound of his voice, Fortaleza's eyes sprang open. The pale green irises flickered with recognition before becoming unfocused again. Behind him, Jim could hear Blair's entrance. The woman's eyes focused behind him, blinking in confusion.
"Well, at least her eyes are open and trying to focus now." Blair's voice came from over his shoulder. "She still looks kind of out of it. Need a hand?"
In answer, Jim gently shifted her so the younger man could reach her. The moment Blair's fingers touched her skin, Fortaleza jumped as if scorched. Between the suddenness of the move and the fact that her skin was slick from the water, she managed to slip out of Jim's hold. Her panicked move slammed her into the tile wall.
"Shit!" Jim forced himself to freeze as Fortaleza's eyes darted from one man to the other. After a moment they closed and she sagged against the wall. Only Jim's quick move kept her going under the cooling water.
"AJ!"
At Blair's worried tone, confusion crossed Fortaleza's face. She forced her eyes open again and they met the Sentinel's. She looked completely lost, and something about the plea in her eyes made Jim shudder. One of her hands caught at his hands. She whispered, "No."
"Easy, AJ." Blair's voice only made her struggle again.
"Hidalga!" Jim kept his voice low, but the command was still there. The young woman ceased her struggles. "We have to get your temperature back up to normal. This is the only way..."
"Jim, it might be cultural," the anthropologist interrupted. With a deft finger he reached out and tapped her arm, hitting a dark colored tattoo. "I think I recognize this one. It's from a coming of age ceremony. That tribe has a lot of taboos regarding women and chastity issues. She may have accepted you, but I think I'm the problem."
"Great! Just great! She can't shower on her own right now and that's the best way to both get her warm and clean. " The Sentinel growled at them both. He stared down at the figure trying to curl away from his scrutiny. Suddenly the tattoo beside his thumb came into focus. He smiled, and from her worried glance, that startled her. "Hidalga, you bear the mark of Incacha. That makes you one of my tribe. We are related. Blair is my Guide, my tribe. "
He watched her, eyes narrowed, wishing he could read the thoughts flickering across her face. She looked down at her shoulder, staring at the tattoo his thumb was rubbing. The small symbol easily disappeared under his thumb. Finally she nodded, releasing the hard grip on his wrist.
You are my elder brother, Sentinel. You are of my tribe. Your Guide is as my family. The Quechua words were intoned solemnly, a vow that struck Jim hard. By tradition they were family, they were of the same tribe. That meant it went both ways.
You are family, little sister of the winds. Mine and my Guide's. Jim quietly intoned the response. Although the ritual had not been performed, the oath was one that both would honor. Blair's quiet exhalation brought Jim's full attention to the present. "Good. Now I want you to be still while we take care of you."
Fortaleza nodded wearily, closing her eyes. In near silent communication the two men went to work. Blair pulled the plug, letting the water escape while Jim pulled AJ up against his chest. One hand holding her in place, he used the other to untie her thick braid. Blair began adjusting the water, trying to find the perfect temperature.
"Chief? Can you hold her for a moment?" Jim whispered.
Blair moved over and quickly took the shivering form. AJ, eyes still closed, leaned against him, soaking his shirt. "How are we going to ...?" Blair trailed off as he realized that his friend was stripping off his sweater and shirt. "Um, Jim. Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, think about it, man."
Jim kicked off his shoes and undid his belt. He grinned wickedly at his friend and after removing his belt and shoes stepped into the tub.
"Keep your mind out of the gutter, Sandburg," he commented before pulling Fortaleza back into his arms. As he shut the shower curtain, he tossed more words towards the wide eyed observer. "You'd better grab some more towels, we're going to need them."
"Yes, sir. How come he gets the girl in the shower while I get to go get the towels." Blair's voice came clearly through the sound of the water flowing from the showerhead. "I might as well change into something dry while I'm at it."
Jim fought another grin as he focused his attention on getting Fortaleza under the flow of luke warm water. Holding her against his chest with one hand, he used the other to rub her skin, trying restore circulation. The faint scars that covered her stood out to his sensitive fingers. He pulled her arm out, focusing on it, eyes widening in comprehension.
At first the parrallel lines that ran from wrist to elbow made him frown. There were too many for them to be suicide attempts. The bluish tinge along each scar worried him until he realized it was not from the chill the woman had taken. Unlike the tattoos, which were easily visible marks telling who Fortaleza was, who she knew, and who knew her, the scars marked her kinship to specific people; specific shamans, specific Sentinels and Guides.
Each mark claimed her as adopted by another group, linking her to them far more closely than any blood tie. If she ever needed a place to run, a place to hide, she could go to any of those tribes and disappear so well that no one would ever find her again. If she needed help, she could call and each of those tribes would send warriors to fight at her side. If they called, she would join their battles. No wonder Incacha said she was as dangerous as she was honored. Fortaleza linked more tribes than my unit ever worked with, Jim mused as he turned up the temperature of the water. The blue line that marked his own arm as he grabbed a washcloth.
As he ran the wet cloth over Fortaleza's face, he let his eyes stray over the band of tattoos on her upper arms. Each was small, barely an inch square. On their own they were plain, no more than two muted colors. The oldest one was closest to her shoulder, A blackened square where plain black outlines that had been shaded over each other. Only his Sentinel senses allowed him to distinguish between the different inks used there. When he focused on them carefully he was able to see each outline separately; eagle, anchor, caddeus, and flag.
Jim realized that most of the others, softly hued tattoos that spoke of natural inks rather than synthetics, all seemed to fit her. Several were the tribal marks of people he knew, Incacha and the Chopec among them. Others marked tribes he had heard about or even fought against while with the Chopec. On both arms, the small tattoos were linked together by a yellow coiling border that ran between them. He noted that there were only two completely empty spaces left within the writhing yellow pattern on one arm. The other arm had none. For some reason that Jim didn't understand, the sight of those spaces raised his hackles.
He turned the water up again, adjusting it carefully as he felt AJ's core temperature go up another degree. He grabbed Blair's shampoo, deciding that since she was already wet he may as well make sure she was clean too. For all of Blair's protests that there was no spark between them, he didn't think that it was a job he needed to leave to the younger man.
Several minutes later, Blair stuck his head through the curtain. "I thought the idea was to get her warmed up, not so you could ... well, use it as a cover for um..."
"Have you ever taken care of someone with recurring malaria, Chief?" Jim met his friend's eyes. At the quick negative gesture, he continued, "Until she gets enough quinine into her system to shut down the parasites, she's going to keep spiking fevers. Each one will wear her out more, stress her system more, and drop her immune system farther. After this it gets worse. That's only if she doesn't have one of the resistant strains. This is her last chance at getting clean until she's well."
Blair nodded and reached for a towel as Jim turned off the shower. The Sentinel grabbed it and wiped his face. "I think she'll be okay. Let me get changed into something dry and then we can get her out of here."
"I can do it, Jim." Blair argued.
"She's out cold, Chief. I'd rather both of us were working together just in case she gets delirius again." Jim's sober words made the other man frown. "If she does, it would take both of us to handle her without someone getting hurt."
Moving slowly, the Sentinel lowered the woman and helped by his Guide settled her against the tub. Once Jim was out of the bathtub and the drain was closed, it didn't take long for the water level to rise enough to cover AJ and keep her warm.
"Keep her in the water until I get back. It's warm enough to keep her warm, the room isn't."
Blair glared at his partner. "Yes, Dad. I know how to handle hypothermia."
Jim ignored the jibe as he took another quick scan of Fortaleza's temperature. Then with a glance at his Guide, he shifted her so that her head lay against Blair's forearm.
She opened her eyes a few moments after she felt the hands holding her change. She knew she had been drifting in and out but somehow it didn't seem to matter.
"Hi, Sunshine." Blair looked down at her. At some point he'd changed clothes, looking much more comfortable in the too large sweater and torn blue jeans he was now wearing. "Feeling any better?"
"Yes, I'm actually warm." She smiled at his chuckle. "Can I get out now?"
"Give Jim a minute to change and then we'll get you out, okay?"
She coughed lightly and sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. Blair released his hold on her shoulder, moving to push the long strands of hair out of her face. He tilted her chin up and grinned when she flicked water at him. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. Look, it's not worth the effort of fighting either Jim or me." The gentle face was solemn and stubborn looking. "You won't win this one either. Maybe, when you're all healed, I'll start letting you win arguments again."
"Problems, Chief?" Ellison's voice was deceptively soft as it echoed through the small room.
"No, just explaining the newest house rule." The grin Blair tossed over his shoulder made the bigger man stand at attention. "I get to rule over my sick or injured companions without any arguments at all."
"Sounds good to me." Jim grinned at the thought of Blair's ideas on recuperation and recovery tactics. He had to admit, he did heal faster under the young man's ministrations. "Let's get her up and dressed."
AJ found herself hauled out of the bathtub and stripped out of her wet underclothes. Ellison kept one hand lightly wrapped around her shoulders to support her as the other efficiently dried her with a towel. Sandburg was busy, his hands briskly enshrouding her hair in another towel. Then he gasped and one of his hands went to her back, gently tracing a long, twisted scar.
"AJ?" His voice trembled as the hand traced another scar. The emotions in his voice, shock, pity, pain, and rage made his throat close to any other words.
She shuddered, trying to escape Blair's hand, pulling away from both men. Jim reacted instantly, understanding her reaction. He quickly wrapped the towel he'd been using around her and pushed her gently to sit on the tub. Picking up the oven warmed blue sweats, he placed them in her lap, keeping his body between Fortaleza and his partner.
"Blair, out." The sentinel's voice was calm, but there was no argument from the stunned man. He turned his attention back to the still figure and crouched down beside her. "Go ahead and get dressed. I'll take care of Blair. Fortaleza? Do you think you can do this on your own?"
She forced her head up and looked into his eyes. The big man felt for her, but he was not going to ask questions she could not answer. She nodded slowly to him. Accepting her silent assurance, he stood and walked out of the small room.
As soon as he stepped from the bathroom, he saw Blair pacing the hallway. The smaller man gripped his own waist tightly. The anger in his voice was all self directed. "I really blew that didn't I?"
"Take it easy, Chief." Jim looked at his partner, seeing the guilt and exhaustion. "It's not your fault, we're all tired. That was not an easy sight to see. From the way she startled, I think she forgot about the scars until you brought them up. She got them a long time ago. When or if she ever wants to talk about them, we'll be here waiting."
"Yeah, but you didn't freak out when you saw them."
"I knew they were there as soon as I saw her tattoos, Chief. They matched the ones on the figure in the picture." He saw again the photograph from her file, the one that was misidentified as probably being of a young Cage. Part of him was glad that the tribesmen had killed the men who done that kind of damage to anyone. Another part of him, the part that Blair teasingly called his blessed protector wasn't as satisfied. "I was prepared, you weren't."
"The photos? But I thought... That means Cage took the picture but AJ was the one on the ground." Blair's voice broke off ,as it began to make sense. "No wonder she hates uniforms. Those soldiers nearly killed her, didn't they?"
"She survived, Chief." Jim let his hands rub at Blair's tense shoulders as they stood quietly, both relaxing in the comfort of the other's touch. As he heard AJ fumble with the door, he released Blair and stepped forward. He wanted to be able to help her if necessary.
It was a long moment before the young woman opened the door. Jim watched patiently as she slowly and very carefully let go of the doorframe and joined them. She was holding herself very still, waiting for their reaction.
"I think those sweats look better on her than on you, Chief." Jim's voice made her smile just a little.
"You know, I think I agree with you." From the corner of his eye, Jim noticed that Blair watched her, worry creasing his face, waiting for her acceptance. Her smile reassured him so he continued his light teasing. "A bit on the skinny side, but she definitely looks better in them than I do. Must be the way she fills them out."
AJ grumbled to herself, her words just a little too muffled for the Sentinel to understand, as they gently herded her out to the living room. When Jim tried to settle her on the couch, she shook her head and pointed to the fireplace. Jim looked over at Blair before shrugging and helping her settle on the rug next to it. The younger man tossed a pillow to them and grabbed the afghan from the back of the sofa.
"Where did you put her medicines?" Jim asked quietly, as he handed the pillow to Fortaleza.
"I'll get them." Blair disappeared into the kitchen, still holding the afghan. He returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a tray. Setting it down on the table, he quickly set aside two mugs of coffee and opened the pill bottle. As Jim spread the afghan over her, Blair held out a handful of pills and a mug of tea.
"What's this?" Fortaleza asked quietly, taking both from him. Before Blair could answer her, she tossed the pills in her mouth and gulped enough tea to swallow them. She winced as the hot liquid went down her throat. Without pausing she took the glass of water that Jim handed her and downed it.
"Quinine, extra strength Tylenol ,and the tea is good for healing." He spoke softly, eyes widening as he realized what she'd done. "How did you know you could just take them like that? You didn't even wait to find out what they were."
"Ellison is Sentinel to the Chopec. You are his Guide. I am adopted into the Chopec. That makes us from the same tribe. It's more than a family tie. It makes both of you safe, trustworthy. I can and do trust both of you." As she spoke, Fortaleza began to curl up, cuddling herself into a ball under the afghan. She blinked at them sleepily, watching them as they thought over her words. "Since I trained under Incacha and Enqueri is our Sentinel, that makes you my brother or cousin or was it brother-in-law? Something like that. I can't keep the words straight."
Both men choked on their coffee at her confused whisper. Two pair of shocked eyes turned to her. Before either could comment, she closed her eyes and whispered, "I have a package for you... remind me to get it for you."
"How long will she keep this up?" Blair helped his partner lift the sleeping woman from the rug to the couch. They had made it up as a bed while she slept, trying to speak quietly enough that she wouldn't awaken.
"That really depends, Chief. If you mean the drifting off, her fever and her concussion are the primary causes for that. Once the quinine takes effect, the fever will disappear, so she should be back to what you're used to within about four or five hours. Of course, we have to wake her up to check. Since she's on straight quinine instead of Proloquine, she'll have the fever off and on for 48 hours, until the attack dies off." Jim tried to lower Fortaleza onto the couch but discovered that she had a fierce grip on his shirt. He grunted and after a moment growled as she shifted her hands, grabbing skin as well as cloth. "Ouch! Come on, let go you little she-cat!"
It was all Blair could do to keep from laughing aloud as the sentinel's frantic fingers wrapped around the woman's and began levering them loose. He leaned down to help but found himself chuckling too hard to be of any help and Jim pushed his fingers firmly out of the way. The glare he received made him chuckle even more as he watched Jim finally yield to her determined grip and sit down next to her. After a moment, she loosened her fingers. The big man moved fast, slipping her hands away from his chest. His move wasn't quite fast enough, as soon as the hands realized they were empty, they moved. One hand grabbed onto the sentinel's wrist, the other slid around his waist. AJ's entire body began scooting and snuggling into his partner. At the expression on the big man's face, Blair lost all control over the laughter he'd been struggling to contain.
"Jim, I think she likes you." Blair wiped at the tears that were beginning to run down his face. He sat gingerly on the edge of the couch and ran a hand over her wet hair. He looked up to meet the fierce glare and laughed again. He really couldn't blame her one bit. Jim was warm and a person to curl up against when it was cold. Of course, Blair would never admit that... especially not to Jim.
"She's worse than that monkey of yours." The soft words were tinged with laughter too. A gentle smile crossed the sentinel's lips as he shifted her into a more comfortable position. "Why is it that all of your friends are different from anyone else?"
"Reflections of my nature?" the younger man asked. He pulled a wooden comb from AJ's bag and began untangling the wet tresses. "Seriously, man, if you don't want her, I'll take her so you can escape."
"Actually, I'm almost enjoying this part, Chief." There was an odd look on his face as he watched his guide's movements. The dexterous fingers of one hand were running through tangles, leaving smooth wet silky strands behind. After a moment, one of her hands moved and began gently kneading the sentinel's thigh in time to Blair's hand. Between the two movements, Jim was slowly relaxing, mesmerized as he watched. "Of course, getting away from her before she's completely asleep will be impossible."
Blair looked up in surprise. "She's not asleep?"
"It's a very light sleep, probably closer to a doze." Jim kept his voice low. AJ burrowed herself closer. When he laid his hand on her shoulder, she stilled and her breathing paused momentarily. He tilted his head and listened intently, his hand slipping under her hair to rest on her back. He let it rest there, measuring her lungs' activity. "I wonder if she trusts us enough to go all the way to sleep."
"She trusts you enough to let us bring her here, man." Blair's words were soft as he began making a long braid of her hair. "She's always politely refused my invitations before."
Jim watched his partner thoughtfully before nodding. In a strange way it made sense. Fortaleza had been too wary to really trust Blair outside of the university setting in which she had come to know him. She knew she could trust him there and so she did. As for Jim, once she recognized him, she had resisted his orders but had trusted him immediately. Even when the fever made her delirious she listened to him. He had the feeling that their lives were about to become complicated. He sighed, watching Blair's quiet movements as they waited for Fortaleza to completely relax.
A soft blanket settled slowly over Sandburg's body. Silently her hands tucked it over and around him. Once he was cared for -- his glasses, and shoes removed and placed near him, collar loosened, body gently reclined back onto the sofa -- she gave in to the odd urge, leaned down, and briefly kissed his forehead.
"Oh, you sleep as hard as you work. " She whispered to the unconscious man with a soft smile. If he could see her face, he would have been surprised at the emotions there. She worked very hard to convince everyone she had none, but he was getting too close for her to ignore. If she wasn't careful she would end up hurting when it came time to leave. She couldn't let the young man become a friend. Frineds only made work harder. She frowned at herself. Maybe she should leave now rather than risk the emotional ties. It was something to think about.
She turned down the light and walked to the phone. Her fingers danced across the memorized numbers. She waited patiently as the other phone rang. Finally an answering machine answered.
"Hello. This message is for Detective Ellison. It's Fortaleza. Sandburg's here. Come by if you want him. 555-1234." Her voice was soft and tired even to her own ears. "I'll be up until midnight."
852 Prospect, Apt 307
Jim glanced around the loft as he hung up his coat, looking for a note. This was the first time in nearly a month that Blair wasn't home before eleven. Since starting to work for Fortaleza, his hours had stabilized enormously. The woman was a fanatic about keeping Blair's hours under control. Unfortunately, she couldn't control his hours researching or working at the station. If she knew how long he was spending at the library or curled up with her journals, she'd cut the young man's hours even more.
He walked over to the answering machine. The light was blinking, probably Blair's car had broke down again. He pressed the button and listened to several messages before the one he wanted began. Fortaleza's voice came on, it's accent a little thicker than normal. Even with the declared truce between them, she was as wary of him as if he were his spirit guide in the flesh.
He wasn't quite sure how to take that. It was not the first time he'd ever had someone so completely on edge. It was the first time someone he had decided was not a threat or a danger stayed edgy around him. After all, they had declared a truce, the problems should be over. If she was planning something that would risk Blair's life, he'd be able to understand her wariness. But the reports all stated firmly that Fortaleza kept her word. That meant Blair was in no danger around her. Therefore, Jim had no problem with the woman. One of these days, he mused silently, he was going to have to convince her that he wouldn't bite.
Her voice was soft, nearly a whisper. Weariness echoed in it. "Hello. This message is for Detective Ellison. It's Fortaleza. Sandburg's here. Come by if you want him. 555-1234. I'll be up until midnight."
He glanced at the clock. If he left now, he could be there with a few minutes to spare. He sighed and turned to leave.
Rainier University Apartments
Snow swirled in the parking lot as he pulled into the space next to Blair's car. He looked up at the dark building. The only lighted windows were on the second floor, marking Fortaleza's apartment. The sight of a figure pacing jerkily behind the curtain set off alarms in Jim's mind. Every description Blair gave of Fortaleza portrayed the woman as a calm and controlled bundle of energy. The figure was too big, too bulky to be his partner and he knew for a fact the woman was too shy to invite company over. In fact that was something Blair often worried about. Jim slid out of the truck, automatically checking that his weapon was in place. He turned up his hearing and headed for the snow covered walkway.
"Take it easy, man." Blair's voice was low, almost in Guide mode. His heart was racing, his breathing fast and shallow. "The artifacts aren't worth someone's life."
"Where's the dagger collection?" A rough, young voice asked.
"It's not here." There was a faint buzz under her words, almost a mechanical sound. Then he heard a soft, nearly inaudible click, but Jim couldn't place the sound. Fortaleza's accent was carefully held at bay. Her voice was louder than normal, almost as if she was trying to force their attention to stay focused on her. He heard the strain of anger under the accent. "All of the valuable artifacts are already at the museum."
"Not the daggers. Where did you put them?" the rough voice was too calm. He could hear the sound of a safety being removed.
Jim broke into a run. Racing against time to reach the apartment before things got out of control. He heard a slap and a body hit the floor.
"Leave her alone!" Blair's voice was raised and he could hear the sound of bodies moving.
"Sandburg! NO!" Fortaleza yelled, as the sound of a gunshot ripped through his sensitive ears.
Jim shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. The sound of Blair yelling and the crash of breaking glass made him look up. A slim body hurtled down at him from the second story window. For a moment, he thought it was Blair, but it was someone he didn't recognize. A long handled spear pierced through the man's shoulder, the spearhead gleamed wetly at him before it was buried in the snow-packed ground under the body. He barely paused to make sure the man was unconscious and not dead.
The Sentinel ran up the short steps and into the building, pulling out his cell phone. As he raced up the stairs, he pushed the speed dial for the precinct while drawing his pistol. He quickly and tersely explained the situation to the officer on duty, slowing as he reached the top of the stairs. He listened to the other man's reply with only one ear before grunting his agreement and hanging up the phone. Slowly, he crept down the hallway, hooking his badge to his pocket and listening to the sounds coming from the apartment.
He heard the sound of a body slamming into a wall. Then came a loud crash followed by a moan. The room went eerily silent.
"I really would suggest that you NOT do that." Fortaleza's voice was harsh, filled with an icy rage that made Jim's blood go cold. She was barely in control. He stood at the door, trying to picture what was going on behind it. "If anything happens to Sandburg, not even Tlazolteotl will want what's left of you when I'm done."
Something fell to the floor and he could hear the sound of people moving around. Jim took a deep breath, grabbed the doorknob and opened it. A rapidly moving figure came at him from the side. Instinctively he reacted, whirling and raising his pistol in one smooth movement. He froze, lifting the pistol away as AJ halted, looking at him curiously.
"Fortaleza? It's Ellison." He announced quietly, taking in the tableau. In the distance he heard approaching sirens. At his words, she nodded, the tension falling away slightly. She reached out one hand and flipped the light switch, flooding the room with light.
Blair crouched across the room, his hands pinning a man's arm in an uncomfortable hold. He looked up at his partner and grinned in relief. A red mark on his temple showed the beginning of a bruise. His rumpled clothes and the blanket lying beside the couch were testament to his interrupted nap. With a relieved grin, Jim tossed his handcuffs to the younger man.
The woman beside Jim stirred, looking over at Blair. Her relief startled Jim. She really cared for his Guide, friendship, worry, and affection reflecting briefly on her face before her expression went flat. The look she shot at the men near the window was cold, filled with a barely contained fury.
Jim moved over to where two men knelt, hands folded on their heads. Both men were pale, their eyes wide and frightened. They kept their eyes focused on the woman. He heard her approach and noticed the fear in their eyes growing as she drew closer. He turned to look at her, a puzzled frown creasing his forehead.
Fortaleza's eyes met his. Pale green eyes, flecked with silver looked at him, measuring him, trying to read him. The pupils were mere pinpricks rimmed with a solid ring of silvery gray. The force behind those eyes stabbed at him, demanding his full attention. He felt the Sentinel in him stir warily and then, inexplicably, subside. Her eyes darted away, releasing him.
He could see the spreading bruises that marred her face and throat as her tan faded. What had, in the first moments after his entrance, been golden skin was now rapidly turning pale. One slim hand rose to her cheek, wiping at the snowflakes falling through the broken glass, leaving a bloody streak.
"Where are you hurt?" Jim's voice was harsh, even to his own ears. Blair turned his attention to them, startled.
"I'm fine. It's not mine. I kept him safe for you, Detective Ellison." A slow smile spread across her face. The dazed expression that crossed her face as she spoke had him moving towards her. "If it were not for the circumstances, I would be happy to see you again."
Jim caught her as her eyes rolled back and she began to fall bonelessly. One arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her up against his chest. As soon as he grabbed her, he realized that her side was wet and that the heavy scent of blood came from her. He glanced down at the two men as they began to move restively.
"Don't even," he growled at them, balancing the woman against his side.
Blair quickly crossed the room to Jim's side. His voice was soft, worried as he reached for Fortaleza. "Let me take her, Jim."
He released her into his partner's hands, keeping an angry eye on the two men. Both looked away from the barely harnessed fury in his eyes. He looked away from them, scanning Blair as the young man wadded up the blanket and pressed into the woman's side. His Guide looked a bit rough around the edges but otherwise seemed unharmed.
"I'm glad you're okay, Chief," he murmured.
Blair looked up from Fortaleza's side and smiled at him. "Me too, Jim. Me too."
16 October, Cascade General Hospital
Jim watched as Blair paced the waiting room. The past two hours had been hard on the younger man. The nurses and doctors, although they were familiar and some were even friends, would not release any information about Fortaleza.
"Sit down, Blair." Jim grabbed Blair's arm as he paced past again. "Come on, Chief. You're exhausted and this won't help her."
"Jim, I just can't get over it. One minute I was working on the background for an artifact and the next there was a gun in my face. I don't even remember going to sleep in between." He looked up, eyes wide. "She just exploded, man. I mean, she was like, so calm, explaining to them that there were no valuable artifacts in the apartment and then, when that one pulled the gun on me, bam. She grabbed the spear in one hand and the Bowie in the other. I've never seen anything like it.
"I'd wondered about that, I mean, the spear thing. The thing just appeared one morning on the coffee table. Since then, it was always around, leaning on the table or the wall, always within reach. I never noticed her carrying it around, it just seemed to migrate to wherever she was working. And when she reached for it, I mean, I hadn't even noticed it was there." Sandburg bounced back onto his feet and began pacing again, still thinking aloud. "The moment the man threatened me, she went from conciliatory to attack. There was no pause from the one to the other."
"Chief, I hate to tell you this, but from what little I saw, her moves were professional." Jim broke into the scholar's thoughts. His eyes followed his partner's restless pacing as he mentally reviewed the woman's movements. "When I came in, she came up to me, not threatening me, but judging me. She was ready for any move I made. Even if I'd shot at her, that knife was ready to be thrown and I wouldn't have gotten away unscathed. The moment she recognized me, she backed off. She's had some really good combat training."
"Yeah, I kind of noticed that when she took out those three guys. But what does that mean?"
"I don't follow you, Chief."
"When she lost it in the apartment, it was like looking at a wild animal, one trapped and terrified. She would have done anything to get us to safety. Then when she headed towards you, I thought..."
Sandburg's correct assessment of the situation startled Jim. He hadn't realized just how much the exposure to police life had opened the younger man's eyes. First with the unease and the search for answers about Fortaleza's past and then with the judgment of the fight in the apartment. He thought hard, carefully choosing his words, trying not to startle his partner any more than necessary.
"Blair, until she recognized me as a friend, and not a threat, she was seriously considering attacking. As soon as she figured I belonged there, she lowered her guard. It's pretty obvious that she's used to trouble and used to having to fight her own battles. But knowing her past, that could mean just about anything." Jim looked up and focused his attention on the hallway. A tired looking doctor was heading their way. Both of them stood, waiting for news.
"Are you two the police officers here with the Fortaleza girl?"
"Yes, we are." He answered before his partner could start correcting the Doctor's impression.
"I'm Dr. Gillespie. She'll be fine in a day or two. She has a minor concussion, which is part of why she passed out. The bullet skimmed her side without doing any major damage, just blood loss. It took a lot of stitches, but there are no broken ribs, so the would will heal fairly quickly. You said she's been out of the country? Would you know where?" The gray-haired doctor was watching them carefully as he spoke.
"I think she just came back from South America." Blair answered him. "Why?"
"Oh, just a thought. Her blood work came back a little odd. We just want to run some more tests to clear up a few things."
"Odd?" Jim asked. "How so?"
"It's nothing, just a little off." The doctor jotted a note on the file in his hand. "Nothing to worry about. Her blood count is a bit anemic. We'll give her a few extra antibiotics just to be on the safe side until the tests come back."
"When can we see her?" Jim glanced at the doctor, wondering what was going on. The man didn't seem worried, instead he seemed pleased. Almost as if having something different come through the ER was a good thing.
"You can't. She's resting right now. We'll be keeping her overnight. If you come back tomorrow, you can question her then." He smiled ingratiatingly. "If you want, we can have security keep a watch on her room.
"She's a material witness, Doctor, not a suspect." Jim spoke quietly, but firmly. "We're her friends. We just want to check on her."
"Then, by all means, let her rest until tomorrow. It would be much better for her." That said, the doctor turned and walked away.
Jim stretched, checking the time. He smiled grimly. "Come on, Chief, if we leave now, maybe we can get some sleep before going in to the station."
"Aw, man, don't tell me we have to be there early." Sandburg groaned as he put on his coat. When Jim's hand reached for him, Blair dodged with a grin. "Ya missed, old man."
Cascade General Hospital, a private room.
AJ slowly sat up, trying to ignore the pain in her head and side. The room around her was white, white walls, white ceiling, white floor tiles, it had to be a hospital. All around her machines monitored her body, tracking her heart, her respiration, and her blood pressure. She grimaced as she noted the IV lines going into her arm. Between the medications added to her glucose drip and the concussion she received earlier that night, she could barely keep her eyes open. She looked around gingerly, noting the absence of company. Good, maybe that meant she had a chance to escape.
"And just where do you think you are going?" The voice boomed at her, making her head pound harder. The doctor's cold hand wrapped itself around her wrist, making her shudder.
"I'm leaving." She stared at the man, trying to find his name. Finally she gave up, certain it wasn't in her memory.
"What is your name?"
"Pardon? No entiendo." I don't understand. Why was he asking such ridiculous questions. She swung her legs off the bed. The hand on her wrist tightened.
"You have a concussion. Do you know your name?"
"My name is AJ Fortaleza. Who are you?" Between the concussion and her accent, the words slurred as they rolled off her lips. She looked around the room, trying to focus on its location. The Lord knew she hated hospitals. This had to be on a different floor from the ER. She remembered the attack at her apartment and abruptly she felt her brain kick into high gear. Where were Blair and his Sentinel? She faced the doctor. "Where is Sandburg? He wasn't hurt, was he? What happened after Ellison arrived?"
The doctor continued his examination of her, ignoring her questions. She wondered if they had run her records yet. Maybe she could get out before they got too far. Before too many people noticed.
"Agie? Odd name. You've been admitted to Cascade General Hospital. You have a concussion and seventeen stitches. Dr. Gillespie is pending any further treatment on the results of your blood work." He still hadn't looked at her, hadn't met her eyes. He was supposed to be her doctor. Or was he? He treated her as if she was a small child, refusing to answer her questions about her care, her condition, and her friends. But then again, she probably couldn't call them friends, associates was a better word. Friends were a whole different matter, with friends she would not have to hide so much.
"I am not staying. I want to go home." But she knew she really didn't have any such place. There never had been a home. Never would be one either. She just wanted to get to safety before the world dissolved into chaos again.
For the first time, the doctor looked at her, meeting her eyes. He was young, not much older than she was. His eyes were odd, at least for what she thought of as a doctor. There was none of the warmth that she naturally expected of a healer. She knew that there would be no recourse, he would join her enemies the moment they arrived. She had to get out of there and get out fast. They were coming, she could feel it in her bones. If she closed her eyes, she knew what she could see; flames burning high around the altars, knives pressing into skin, blood flowing on the old stones. AJ forced her mind away from the visions. The room wavered around her before solidifying again.
"No. With a concussion like yours, you were unconscious for several hours, we always keep the patient for at least a day, sometimes several days. Also, we have the anomalous blood work we got from you, we're still waiting for the test results. And then there's the wound in your side. You are not going anywhere." The man's tone was pompous and condescending. "Only your parents can sign you out. So you can just stay put for now."
"What? Who are you? I am old enough to check myself out of here. Where is Sandburg? He'll tell you." She demanded angrily.
The infuriating man patted her shoulder and advised her to rest. Adding information to her chart, he walked away, muttering about the flightiness of injured women.
She waited until he was gone, talking to the nurses at the far end of the hall. Then, very carefully she studied the monitors. It was hard, but she managed to force her eyes to focus on the fine print. One by one, she turned them off and disconnected herself from their wires. The last machine linked to her was the IV. She turned it around and looked at it, figuring out the mechanics of it and its tiny instructions. With a grimace she pushed a pair of buttons, waiting for the alarm. When it didn't go off, she smiled and began removing the IV lines.
The room wavered as she stood. The walls flowed oddly, curving together and wavering before her eyes. Finally they straightened, becoming solid again. Gritting her teeth against the nausea that standing caused, she forced herself to walk to the clothes folded on the dresser. Once her vision had cleared again, she began pulling on her clothes, preparing to escape the cold white room. Nothing was going to keep her here. Nothing and no one.
852 Prospect, Apt 307
Blair was sitting at the table, typing on his laptop when the phone rang. He jumped, startled by the shrill sound. Instinctively he grabbed at it, trying to keep from waking Jim. As he listened to the voice on the other end of the line, he saved his work, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to work any longer.
"Mr. Blair Sandburg?" The voice was not anyone he knew.
"Yes."
"This is Tina, from Cascade General. You are listed as the contact person for..." The woman's voice stumbled over the name, "Alessandre J Fortaleza?"
"What happened to AJ?" His voice rose, cracking in panic. She'd been sleeping but okay when they'd left her. It was bad enough that she'd been hurt trying to protect him, but if anything else had happened, the Dean was going to kill him. "Please, tell me that she's all right."
He could hear his Sentinel moving around up in his room. Blair knew that hearing the panic in his voice and jump in his heart rate was enough to wake Jim. Jim's voice came down the stairs ahead of him. "Sandburg?"
"We're not sure. She seems to have left the hospital. Did she go home?" Tina's voice was hesitant.
"Can you wait a minute? We need to check."
He looked up to see the pale blue eyes of his friend watching him over the railing. The other man was dialing a number on his cell phone. Their eyes stayed connected as Jim spoke to the security officer guarding Fortaleza's apartment. Thanks to the many artifacts and the broken lock, it was being watched by campus security. He read the negative response and closed his eyes. His thoughts began racing as he reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, he knew he should be able to guess where she'd be. Jim thanked the officer and began to dress.
"No, she hasn't turned up there." He listened to the woman on the other end. "Yeah, we'll start looking for her. . . No, I don't want you contacting the police and putting an APB out on her, at least not yet. We'll take care of it. . . Yes, I'm sure. Thank you."
"How long has she been missing, Chief?" Jim's voice was soft, worried as he came down the stairs.
"They're not sure, maybe two hours." Blair stood and went to the balcony door. "It's snowing again and she doesn't even have a coat, man."
"Where would she go?" Jim was pulling equipment out from under the stairs, at Blair's comment about the coat he grabbed an old jacket and tossed it onto the pile. "Come on, Blair, think. Where would she run?"
"I don't know."
"You're the only person who knows her. You're the only chance she has." Blair watched as the older man laid out their survival gear. Their eyes met briefly. "Where would she go to hide, where would she feel safe?"
"I don't know of anywhere she's been since she arrived." He felt the tension in his chest as he began to think about AJ in the midst of Cascade in a snowstorm. In the past three weeks since her arrival, he'd only seen her working. She'd always politely declined to join him in anything outside of work, remaining behind at her apartment. The tension hardened into a fist of pain. He couldn't focus beyond the sudden tightness and everything began going gray.
"Breathe, Sandburg!" The roughly growled command shook him, grabbing his attention as Jim grabbed his shoulders. "That's it, breathe in and let it go. Again, breathe in and let it go. Keep it slow and steady. That's better."
A firm hand was resting against his chest, measuring each breath he took. The other was wrapped around his arm, holding him against a hard form in a half hug. Blair looked over to meet his sentinel's worried eyes. The other man smiled slightly as he realized that Blair was back in control. "We'll find her, Chief."
The younger man leaned against him gratefully. His mind was racing. "The only places she's been are her apartment, campus and . . ." He looked up, eyes brightening as he had an idea. "the museum. If she isn't at the apartment, she'll be there."
Jim nodded tersely and grabbed the bag he'd packed with emergency supplies. "Grab your coat and let's go."
When they finally caught up with Fortaleza, he planned on having a long talk with her. No one pulled a stunt like this on his watch, not when it sent his Guide off on panic attacks. Tamping down his anger as unproductive and dangerous in this weather, Jim led the way out of the loft and down to the truck.
They made the trip to the natural history museum in near silence. A trip that normally took twenty minutes had taken them well over an hour. The slow drive through the falling snow gave him too much time to think. Blair's active mind with images of disaster.
"It's not your fault, Chief." Jim's voice startled him, as they pulled up to the museum.
"How did you know what I was thinking?" He turned to meet his Sentinel's eyes.
Jim lightly cuffed his shoulder. "It's pretty obvious, Darwin. You've been silent for most of the drive here and your face is expressive enough to read. You had nothing to do with her taking off in the middle of a snowstorm."
"If I'd stayed at the hospital, she might still be there. She might still be safe."
"You are not responsible for her, she's an adult."
"But she was raised in another culture, she's not used to this place. She doesn't know about snow and city life, Jim. It's part of my job as her assistant to make sure she stays safe until she leaves." He zipped his jacket, preparing to leave the warmth of the truck.
"No, Chief. It's your job to help her with the museum show. It's not your job to baby-sit." Jim's face was grim. If Fortaleza was here, the lady was going to hear it from him. His roommate had been in a near panic since they'd heard from the hospital. No one was allowed to make his Guide feel this guilty over something he had no control over. The anxiety attack had nearly sent Jim over the edge. Fortaleza's behavior was about to get her in deep trouble with a very angry Sentinel.
The museum guard was waiting for them at the entrance. Once he'd opened the door for them, he'd taken off at a fast pace, leading down one of the dark halls. The grizzled old man moved as if he were far younger than the age his face proclaimed him to be.
"I've searched the exhibit they've been working on, Detective. No sign of the girl." The man smiled faintly. "Of course, she's a spry child and could anywhere in the place. She's the one who hung all the weapons and things from the rafters. She probably knows the place better than I do."
"What do you mean?" Blair asked, bouncing slightly as an idea began racing through him. "I thought she'd only been here the time I brought her."
"Oh, no. That girl has stayed here every weekend since she arrived. And she works here whenever you are too busy with your police buddies." The man chuckled at the look on the anthropologist's face. He loved being able to surprise people with his knowledge.
"She's been here that much?"
"Eyah. Like clockwork. She wants this exhibit to be perfect for Mr. Zel." The man grinned as he reminisced. "She tells all kinds of stories about each piece and how she or Zel got it and what it means. Every guard here knows the crazy kid."
Blair looked shocked at the information he'd just received. The idea that the young woman had been working so hard when he wasn't around bothered him. Then it occurred to him that AJ had regularly run him out of the apartment, insisting that he rest and relax, but had worked both at the apartment and the museum. In fact, she had been at the museum enough that the guards easily recognized her. The double standard was infuriating. The thoughts that crossed his mind were reflected on his face.
"Come on, Chief. Let's find her first, then you can yell at her." Jim's voice was soft as he followed the security guard.
"After all the times she chased me out, ordering me to go home." Blair's voice was grim as he contemplated the situation.
"She only has the one job. You have your classes, this project, your research, and the station." The bigger man was extending his senses, noting the information he was gathering as they entered the unfinished exhibit. He smelled dust, ancient leather, fresh cut wood and herbs, and more. The scent of the herbs caught his attention as he began categorizing them. Traces of sage, wormwood, valerian, cinnamon, cloves, mint, and several others that he could not recognize or name teased his nose. Then it hit him, he smelled ayuahuaste and yaje. As the scent of the powerful herbs filled his senses, Jim staggered back a step.
"Jim?" A warm hand rubbed his back, clearing his head.
"I'm okay." He growled.
"What is it, big guy?"
Jim ignored the question. He lengthened his stride, passing the startled guard and stepping onto a display. His hands were gentle as he picked up a carved wooden bowl. He focused on it, his eyes picking up the traces of moisture, chamomile and mint leaves. It had been used recently. A small pouch lying on the display caught his attention.
Made of pale leather, it was decorated with an entwined spiral design. It was sewn shut with bright red thread, the pattern a warning as well as seal against the contents getting out of the pouch. He focused his sense of smell on it. The pouch was filled with dried yaje. With a trembling hand he gingerly picked it up. The mere thought of the power of this drug was enough to worry him. It could easily be stronger than the Golden they ran into, and that drug nearly killed his partner. Why did she have something like this here? He pulled a plastic evidence bag from a pocket and placed the pouch in it.
"Hold this for me, Chief." He handed the sealed bag to Blair and stood, looking around. Something was eluding him, but it was too hard to focus on, too diffuse.
Blair began speaking softly, far too softly for the security guard to hear. "All right, Jim. Concentrate. Remove the extraneous scents. Layer by layer; take out everything that doesn't matter. Do you remember what AJ smells like? Remember how my jacket smelled the day I lent it to her. Try to isolate that scent."
Jim listened to his Guide. He identified scents and removed them as unimportant. Finally he was down to a few scents. His eyes widened as he labeled them. He could smell AJ, her scent was strong here. It was layered over all the displays in the unfinished exhibit. Over and around him it swirled, part of the air itself. It was covered with the fresh scent of blood and ... something else. Something that stirred memories but could not be identified and that bothered him.
"Got it." He turned away from his partner and focused on the security guard. "Is there any other way into this exhibit?"
"No, sir. Just this entrance. The other one is locked up tighter than Fort Knox."
"Well, she was here." Jim pointed to a smudge of blood on one of the closer displays. "If there is no access to water, she's probably elsewhere. Why don't you check the next level. I want to check out this area."
The older man nodded at the detective and left, happy to be of assistance. Blair fought a grin as he recognized Jim's ploy. After the man left, he quietly closed the hall doors and turned to his partner.
"Good work. Now, you have her scent locked down?" Blair's voice paused for the Sentinel's nod. "Okay, piggyback your hearing to your sense of smell. Listen for her heartbeat. There shouldn't be anyone else here. Once you have her heartbeat locked in, then you can focus on finding her location."
The deep voice kept him from zoning on the scents. He linked his hearing to the scents, focusing on the upper level of the hall, near the air vents. It took him a moment and then he heard her. The soft thump of her heart as it pushed blood through her body. He listened, hearing the irregular and rapid pace that denoted a problem. Then she whimpered, a low-pitched cry that broke off almost before she could finish it. They needed to get to her fast.
He frowned, tracing the sound and the scent. She was on the far side of the long hallway. There. He opened his eyes and followed the sound up into the rafters. He could see the opening but could not believe it. He looked again, but that was the only opening in the wall.
"I found her, Chief." The clipped tone made his Guide pause.
"And the news is?" Blair's pale face told its story. He was worried and getting more so.
"She's up there." He pointed up into the rafters, focusing on the little opening. Scaffolding went partially up to the ceiling. From there, a system of strung ropes and wires traced patterns through the air, linking the scaffolding to the open rafters and joists. This was not going to be easy, even for him. The thought of Blair trying to cross the open spaces was enough to make him pause uncertainly.
"Aw, great. This is absolutely great!" Blair's eyes went wide as he measured the height involved and the distance between the ropes. The panic in the smaller man's eyes slowly made its way to his face, hardening it. The jaw tensed, causing harsh planes to form. The look that he gave Jim was icy with despair. "Why did she have to go to ground twenty feet up? She knows how I feel about heights."
"Stay here. I'll climb up and take a look."
"No. You can't go up there without me to watch your back." The anthropologist sounded resigned.
"I'll be fine, Sandburg. You can stay here and talk me through any zones from the ground."
They slowly walked over to the scaffolding. Jim paused, removing his jacket before beginning his climb. There, smeared against one of the steel poles was a patch of dried blood. He looked at it, noting the height and the amount. Fortaleza was bleeding again. It was very possible she had ripped out her stitches just trying to climb the scaffolding.
The climb up the scaffolding was easy. The rungs and break levels had been set for someone much shorter than he was. It had probably been arranged for Fortaleza. He remembered how small she'd seemed when he'd held her earlier that night. She was easily a good three or four inches shorter than Sandburg. It only took him minutes to reach the top level. From there he looked at the oddly spaced ropes.
Fortaleza had set them up in a way that made him look twice. He studied the ropes and smiled. It looked like there was only one path in which all the ropes were anchored securely. The others were weighted with flying artifacts, stabilized high rising displays, or were rigged to be unstable. He could see the netting that would soon hold up a false forest canopy. Part of the room was already covered by the canopy. In a few days this tangle of ropes would be hidden, as would be her hiding place. Even now it was hard to find. If he hadn't been a Sentinel, he'd have never found it.
"Can you get over to her?" Blair's voice in his ear made him turn around. The younger man's knuckles were white from his grip on the railing. His face was pale and tense.
"I thought I told you to stay on the ground!"
"Yeah, you did. But a Guide stays with his Sentinel." The wry grin was lopsided. He ducked the cuff that headed his way. "Come on, man, let's get this done so we can get down."
"This time you stay put!" Ellison growled threateningly.
"Me? Cross the room on a rope? No way!"
The tight voiced reply almost reassured him. He grinned at his friend and grabbed a rope. Blair's quiet moan accompanied him away from the scaffold.
The journey was far easier than he'd expected. Between his added height and heavier weight, Jim found that the ropes were spaced almost perfectly for him. What to the woman was probably a slight reach was to him a simple hand-off. Where the ropes would have swung crazily under a lesser weight, his weight steadied them, slowed their swing.
Finally, he reached the opening in the wall. It looked like an air vent, its metal grill partially disguised by cream colored paint. He looked around, wondering how she'd first found this place. None of the ceiling joists came near the grill. He shook his head and tugged gently. The hinged grill opened quietly, releasing the scent of fresh oil.
Jim winced as he pulled himself into the vent. It was going to be a tight fit. He slid himself in the opening and noticed that after an abrupt turn, it opened into a decent tunnel. This was definitely not an air vent, even if it was connected to the air system. The stone walls suddenly opened out into a small room, no more than six feet to a side. It had no other entrance that he could see, but somehow the room displayed an airiness that was unexpected. He decided it had to be due to the painted murals on the walls and ceiling, all light colored forest scenes.
He stared, trying to comprehend what he was seeing. What was this room doing here? He scanned the room quickly. He could see the marks where heavy shelving had been removed. A soft sound made him turn his attention away from the puzzle. He would have to remember to ask Blair about it. The anthropologist would find the answer, if he didn't already know it.
Against the far wall was a huddled, shivering figure in a nest of heavy blankets. As his eyes rapidly adjusted to the room, he noticed an abundance of supplies. The room was stocked as if she expected to stay a long time. There was no way she had done this on the spur of the moment. This practically shouted that she expected trouble and planned ahead for it. He frowned as he began to get a picture that he really didn't want to see. Either she was being hunted or she knew something that she hadn't told them about. The fear and paranoia that would provoke this kind of a response was too close to bad memories of his own. He tried to shake off the feeling as he knelt beside the figure.
Fortaleza was still and pale, her skin cold and clammy to his fingertips. At his touch, her eyes flew open and she turned, looking at him in shock. The move made her inhale sharply from pain, trying to stifle her outcry. Pale silvery green eyes met his and focused on him.
"Go away, Sentinel. Go take care of your Guide and your village." Her whispered words hit him hard, brought the entire focus of his eyes on hers.
"How did you know?"
"Not the first I've met. It's obvious if you know what to look for. Besides I was told there was a Sentinel in Washington." She whispered softly, painfully. The bruises she had received stood out darkly against her pale skin. She lay passively, watching him with dull eyes.
"You worried Sandburg."
"How?"
"The hospital called him when you disappeared."
"Sorry. I didn't think they would." She turned her head away from his, shrugging further under the wool blanket.
"Come on, he's waiting for us." Some instinct kept him from grabbing her and pulling her out of her warm nest. He didn't want her to bolt. The chances that she might get out of the room were too great. She could easily end up on the floor below the tunnel, badly hurt, if he wasn't careful.
"Tell him I'm sorry and to go home."
"He won't leave without you."
When she made no attempt to move, Jim sat next to her, taking in the information her body could not hide from his senses. Either the medication from the hospital or the concussion had her eyes slightly unfocused. Her heart beat rapidly, skipping an occasional beat. Her shivers were acute, the temperature of the skin under his gently questing fingers low, well below normal. Her breathing was shallow and there was the first trace of congestion in the sound of one lung. With a sigh, he raised her to a sitting position and began unbuttoning her shirt. When she grabbed his wrist, he pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and into her hand He then slipped the shirt from her shoulders impassively. Blood stained her camisole over the thickness of her bandaged wound. Raising his eyebrow, he gestured at it. Fortaleza closed her eyes, tactically granting him permission to look. He moved her camisole out of the way. As he touched the bandage, she curled forward from the pain of his touch. The blanket slipped from her grasp, baring her back and shoulders before she could grab it.
Jim inhaled sharply at the sight. Her back was covered with old scars, the skin seamed with the marks of a whip. The tattoos that circled her upper arms before crossing her upper back and shoulders were ones he recognized from his past. She shivered, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
"Who are you?" He asked softly, not really wanting the answer. He didn't want to hear what he already knew. He didn't want her to confirm that an old debt had just been called in. The band of tattoos marked a promise, life for life, between the Walks Through People and Chopec People. During his time with the Chopec, Incacha had told him how the Walks Through People had arrived in time to help the Chopec fight off a group of drug manufacturers. In exchange for that assistance, the Chopec promised to keep an eye out for one of the Walks Through, the one they called the Hildalga. Incacha had taught Jim the tattoos that marked Hildalga's shoulders, making him promise to keep an eye on the wandering amaru if he ever met her. "You can't be... you are way too young."
"I am no one. Please, just go away. I won't bother you or your Guide." Even to a Sentinel's hearing her words were almost inaudible. She refused to look at him as she burrowed deeper into the blankets. Jim sighed. It was obvious that if he let her get away with it, she would ignore both that debt and her own illness. Unfortunately, no matter how much he would like to, he couldn't let her get away with either action.
"I'll leave if you come too. We need to get back to Sandburg soon, he's getting impatient out there." Jim kept his voice low, coaxing. Every story Sandburg had told him about her had been full of color and action. Even the few times he had met her, she had been a bundle of carefully caged energy, totally focused on her goal of defusing the tension and worries of the Sentinel. She had done a very good job of it, too, he mused. It would have been easier if she had called in the debt the Chopec owed her. Instead she had stood on her own, letting Jim make up his own mind about her. Today she was pale and quiet, the complete opposite of what he'd expected. In fact, she appeared fragile. She looked too young to be the respected anthropologist he knew her to be. He smiled grimly as he realized that he was still skirting the problem of her tribal affiliations, even in his own mind.
"Go, take him home. I'll see him in a few days, when I feel better." She murmured, her eyes meeting his, steely with determination. She forced herself to sit straight, but he could tell it was an effort. "I am just a little tired right now."
"I can't leave you here and you know it. You need to go back to the hospital. You're going into shock." Jim spoke, softly as he began to lift her up.
AJ's eyes widened and with a sudden move, she broke his hold and skittered away from him. Resting against the far wall, she stared in his direction. Her pulse was racing, her breathing was rapid. The fear in her eyes was reflected in the scent of her sweat. Her voice was suddenly harsh and broken. "No! I'm not going to any hospital. I'm fine!"
"You left blood tracks on the way here."
"I tripped. The bleeding stopped hours ago." The lie was loud to his senses, as her heart skipped at the lie.
"I smell fresh blood. You need treatment."
"No hospitals. I'd rather die first." Her words were firm and unequivocal. Jim read her heartbeat , the tension in her body and the controlled panic in her eyes. There was little room for doubt in her serious words. She would really rather die than go back.
"All right, no hospitals." Jim knew when to give in. This was not a battle for today. Not if he wanted to help her now. He might be able to overpower her, but from the look of terror on her face, it would be a hard fight. She didn't have the resources to waste on that fight, so he had to find another way to take care of her. "Look, I was a medic in the army. Let me take a look at it. If the stitches aren't torn out I can just rebandage your wound and then I'll leave you alone."
She stared at him, her green eyes measuring him, reading his intentions for a long moment. Finally, with a slow, regal nod she agreed. Jim released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Silently, he pulled the blanket away from her side and knew it was going to be bad. He stared at the blood soaked bandage. He gently ran his hand along it, dialing his sense of touch up to feel through the gauze. Even that much pressure was too much. She jerked away and he barely caught her as she nearly passed out from the pain. He bit back a curse and laid her on the nest of blankets. A moment later, he was racing through the short tunnel.
"Sandburg!" His voice echoed through the vacant hall. His partner looked over at him, startled by his abrupt appearance. He hoped his Guide would understand what he needed. "I need the medical kit and she'll need the spare coat."
Blair paled, understanding dawning on his face. He looked around and noticed that the security guard still hadn't returned. He gestured slightly, holding out his cell phone. The Sentinel thought for a moment and then shook his head. If the woman was this adamant against hospitals, they'd have to restrain her to keep her there. That idea bothered him. If she really had a reason to fear, she'd be defenseless. He couldn't do that; he'd promised not to send her to the hospital.
The younger man raced down the ladder, nearly flying down to the floor. Jim watched his partner, wondering if he'd end up taking care of two wounded people. Shaking his head, he slid back through the tunnel and into the room. He needed to get that bleeding stopped now.
Blair stood at the top of the scaffolding and took a deep breath. He really didn't want to do this, but he had a feeling it was necessary. He could always just yell for Jim, but what if he distracted him at a bad moment. The Sentinel wanted his medical kit, and that meant AJ was hurt so he didn't want to make it worse.
Having made his decision, he stripped off his coat and laid it next to the spare he had brought with the medkit. Then he tied the medical kit to his belt and reached out for a rope. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and sent a prayer out to whichever deity kept an eye out for Guides. This had to be one of the worst ideas he'd ever had. He just hoped he remembered the path Jim had taken earlier.
Jim was trying to get Fortaleza to drink some water from one of her canteens when he heard the noise. He looked up, trying to analyze the sound. He heard the soft whoosh of air as it was forcibly displaced from his Guide's lungs. It was followed by the quiet, almost inaudible, groan as a rope received his weight. The next sound was the gentle shush of his passage through the air. Throughout the whole was the rapid tattoo of his terrified heartbeat.
It only took Jim a moment to recognize the importance of those sounds. His Guide was crossing the ropes, coming to his assistance. *He was going to kill Sandburg*. What was the younger man thinking to risk himself like this. He growled to himself, causing the young woman's eyes to open.
"Shh, it's okay. I'll be right back." He gently settled her back onto her nest of blankets, trying to reassure her.
"Sandburg?" The pale woman's eyes lit up with amusement. He watched her momentarily, his emotions warring between curiosity and unease. For all of Blair's denials, he kept wondering exactly what was between them. At his nod, she smiled and closed her eyes. Her words and tone were laughing, echoing his feeling of confused bemusement exactly. "He will not let you do anything without his help? Typical Blair. Go rescue your Guide before he gets into trouble."
He grimaced and then had to chuckle. It sounded like she knew his partner fairly well. He looked up as he listened to Blair's progress. The worry reasserted itself and he turned away, sliding through the narrow entranceway. At the vent grill he paused, watching as the long-haired man caught the last rope. Maybe he should get him to audition for the next Tarzan movie, he looked like a natural if you ignored the pale face. Nah, Sandburg would not like the suggestion.
Wordlessly, he reached out his hand as Blair approached the vent. The other man's eyes met his, focusing on his face and refusing to look anywhere else. Blair's firmly controlled fear reflected strongly enough in his eyes to make Jim's stomach turn. Once again he was angry with Fortaleza for putting them through this. When she wasn't so ill he was going to have to discuss endangering Blair with her. She had given him her word and he meant to see that she kept it.
Blair's hand met his and gripped hard, the muscles in his forearms straining. With an effortless tug, the ex-Ranger pulled him into the tunnel. Although no longer crossing the gulf between the hideaway and the scaffolding, he was still shaky from fear. The gasping breaths, racing heart, and sweaty skin could all be attributed to his exertions, but not the complete collapse of his muscles.
"Easy, Chief. You made it." Jim kept his words soft, as he comforted his friend. He looked across the distance, still mildly surprised that Sandburg had crossed it on his own without any encouragement or assistance.
After a moment, he gently relieved him of the medical pack and began backing down the narrow passageway. No matter how much he wanted to remain with his partner, Jim knew he had to get back to the hidden room.
"How is she?" Blair's eyes were worried as he slowly followed the Sentinel through he tunnel.
"She tore out some of her stitches and she's shocky. " The detective's voice was harsh as it grated against the stone walls. "She refused to go back to the hospital to get them fixed."
"And you're not taking her there anyway?" The smaller man was looking at him curiously, his eyes filled with amazement. "Why? I've seen you bully Simon into taking care of himself. I won't even comment about you being my personal 'mother-hen'. So how does she get away it? The famous 'Jim Ellison blessed protector to the rescue' syndrome should be going full throttle by now. Are you saying its not?"
"She reacts to the word 'hospital' worse than you react to heights. It's a gut level reaction, pure and utter terror." Jim's voice was flat, his jaw tense. He looked away and then back, meeting the other man's eyes, his own bleak. "If she even thinks she's going back to the hospital she'll bolt..."
"And this time, we wouldn't find her." The anthropologist finished the unspoken thought quietly.
"Not before it was too late." He responded coldly, knowing it would hurt his friend if something happened to her. He lowered himself into the room, turning and heading for Fortaleza.
Behind him, he heard Blair pause before slowly whistling in amazement as he took in the view. There was a slight quaver in the sound as the full effect of the hidden room took effect. Each wall was covered in a floor to ceiling mural. Waterfalls and trees, nymphs and dryads, wildlife and whimsical animals turned the walls into a beautiful forest glade. The ceiling was painted a soft blue with a few traces of whispy clouds crossing it. The tunnel that had led into the room appeared to be a hole in one of the trees.
Although small, between the murals and muted lighting that came from partially concealed openings and vents, the room made quite an impression. After a moment, he jumped down the slight distance, still trying to accept the sight. His words were barely breathed, much less spoken, "Oh, my... I had heard rumors about a hidden room, but this is... wow!"
"Like it, Blair?" AJ's accent was a pale imitation of its normal sassy sound.
He smiled at her, crossing the room rapidly to crouch beside her. "Oh, yeah, it's nice. You're a good decorator. So, you built this when you built the musuem?"
She chuckled and grimaced. "Don' make me laugh, chibato."
Jim looked up from the medical supplies he was unpacking. Catching his partner's eye, he motioned for him to support her and gently helped her sit up. The younger man slid behind her, holding her upright, while the older man quickly striped the layered blankets off her. He then cut the bloody bandage and removed it. AJ watched impassively, only looking away when Blair gripped her hand in reassurance. When the Sentinel pulled out a vial of painkiller from his kit and began to prep the needle, she frowned and stopped him.
"No." her voice was cold.
"Look, kid." Jim's voice was hard-edged. "If you want to stay out of the hospital..."
"No drugs." She wrapped her hand around his, covering the syringe. She turned to the younger man, noting his pale face, and grimaced. "Get my medicine bag, please."
"AJ, Jim's not too keen on alternative drugs."
"Do it!" Her eyes flashed fiercely, as she glared at him. She turned back to Ellison. "Please, no drugs, they're not worth the problems they will cause. I have other things that will keep me still while you retie the stitches. Ones that won't cause the kinds of reactions modern drugs do."
Jim's jaw clenched tightly, the back teeth grinding together. With a small smile, she ran her finger along the twitching muscle. He closed his eyes, trying not to lose his temper with her. When he reopened his eyes, she smiled again and held out a small tube of ointment. He inhaled, testing the scent and relaxing. He recognized it as a mixture of painkiller and germicide that Incacha had used on him long ago. He nodded and took the vial from her fingers.
"Thank you, Enqueri." Lines of pain formed on her face as she let them slowly settle her back onto the nest of blankets. Her eyes closed in relief as the Sentinel spread the ointment on her wound.
"Jim?" Blair's voice made him look around. The younger man was watching them curiously. "You never told me that you knew her."
"I don't, Blair." He looked away to grab the suture kit. He looked back up to meet the confused eyes of his Guide. "She knows me. Her people have known the Chopec for a long time. I'd say she probably knew who I was as soon as she made the connection between my time in Peru and the Chopec."
Jim's hands moved rapidly as he cleaned the torn flesh. The only movement the young woman made was when she breathed. He probed gently, reassuring himself that the ribs were only bruised, not broken. When he was ready to place the stitches, he touched her cheek with a light finger. Her eyes sprang open and focused on his. Seeing the look on his face, she took a deep breath and set her jaw before nodding to him.
"Blair, even with this stuff, she is going to react when I put the stitches in. I need you to hold her down. Don't let her move." Jim kept his voice low, knowing that even if she heard him, she didn't need to hear his worry. He could not believe that he was doing this. As he finished preparing the suture, he glanced again at the odd-colored tattoos on her bared shoulder, reminding himself of the reason he was going against his better judgment. "Ready?"
Blair moved to kneel at AJ's head and rested his weight on her upper arms. He nodded and watched as his partner straddled her legs. Their eyes met and then Jim looked down to begin stitching the woman's wound. Blair wondered exactly what she was holding over the big man. He'd rarely seen him back down and yet he did for Fortaleza.
At the first touch of the needle, she tensed and then her body froze. Blair looked down to see her eyes fix themselves on the ceiling and then they were blank. It was almost as if she was gone, no longer there. He swallowed thickly, wondering how he was going to bring her back.
"One more stitch." Jim's voice was hard, as were his eyes. Part of him wanted to rage at the way things were going and the other part just wanted to turn back time and send the troublesome woman back to South America. He tied off the last stitch and looked up as he prepared the new bandages. "Done. Wake her up, Chief."
"I don't know how." Blair looked down at the unfocused eyes. He raised a hand to her face and stroked her cheek. He tried using his Guide voice that worked so well when Jim was zoning. "AJ. AJ, come on. Wake up."
She didn't respond. He stared at her and then realized that her skin had turned clammy and was getting cooler. He moved his hand to her chest and felt the slow moving heartbeat, measuring the shallow breaths. He slapped her cheek lightly, his own heart rate picking up. Then he felt her heart skip a beat. "Don't do this, please, AJ This is, like, so not good for my karma."
Jim taped the bandage over the new stitches and frowned. He pulled her camisole back down over the bandage before slapping her lightly on the cheek. When she stayed motionless, he shook her shoulder, putting a bit of force into the movement. As she continued lying passively, ignoring them both, he felt his temper snap. He growled low in his chest. He hadn't wanted to do this. He hadn't wanted to listen to her fears and allow her to avoid the hospital. There was no way he was going to allow her to get away with this, too.
He moved abruptly, pulling Fortaleza up against his chest. Her unfocused eyes stared at him as he began speaking in a harsh growl. Quechua words fell from his lips as he vented his fury. Her eyes finally stirred and focused on him, wrinkling in confusion before comprehension dawned.
"Enqueri?" She whispered at his vehemence. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go that far."
"DON'T DO THAT AGAIN!" The low roar echoed in the small room.
"OK, no more trances." She whispered, swallowing rapidly at his fury. Her eyes barely met his as she asked the Sentinel, "let me down now?"
Furious eyes, like pale lasers burned into her eyes. The steely grip on her shoulders was going to leave bruises. She could already feel them forming. AJ didn't try to move, she knew better. She'd heard about his anger and had been warned never to rouse it against herself. She'd read his files, she knew what he was capable of doing and she had still gotten him angry. Now she was paying the price for her error. Then he spoke again, still holding his anger barely under control. "If you ever scare Blair like that again, ever make his heart race in fear, I will make you regret it. Do you understand me, Hidalga?"
"Uh, Jim..." Blair tried to speak, but Jim's icy glare silenced him.
AJ blushed. Ellison had finally recognized her. She had hoped he would not put two and two together, but it was too late now. Like it or not she had a Sentinel keeping an eye on her again. When he realized she purposefully avoided him for the past few weeks, he would be even more unhappy. It was much easier to search Cascade without being under a Sentinel's care. Still, she did not want the Sentinel to be angry, much less angry with her. She had some serious bridge building to do. Her voice was soft, rueful. "Yes, Enqueri. I'm sorry I scared you, Blair. I'm sorry if I worried either of you."
"I promised to keep an eye on the Hidalga, if I ever met her. The Chopec owe the Walks People and we promised to watch out for you. Incacha warned me that you were very good at both getting into trouble and hiding it. You're almost as good at it as Sandburg is." The Sentinel's fingers loosened as his voice lowered. When he was certain she could sit without his assistance, he released her shoulders. He looked around for a moment and then shrugged, unbuttoning his shirt. He removed it and wrapped it around her, over the blankets she had pulled protectively to her chin. Once it was buttoned, he tugged on the blanket. "Let go and put your arms through the sleeves."
"I can do it, myself." Her protest was muffled as he dropped a sweater, donated by Blair, over her head.
"Let him do it. He's in Blessed Protector mode." The younger man watched with amusement as his partner gently manhandled her into the sweater. "It's a lot easier than trying to argue with him."
"Really? So speaks the voice of experience?" Sarcasm dripped from her soft voice. Once she was clothed, she curled back into the nest of blankets. Her words were slurred as she closed her eyes. "How long did you say you were staying?"
"You're not getting rid of us that easily. In fact, you're coming with us." Jim smiled grimly at the shocked expression on her face. He looked over at Blair who nodded in agreement and turned to start packing the few bags in the room. The big man turned back to his patient and began pushing socks onto her feet.
"Jim?" Blair stopped his packing in shock as he stared at a bottle. His voice was quiet, but it caught both of the others' attention. He picked it up and double-checked the prescription. The original label was Spanish, but it was covered with translation stickers identifying it in many languages. He opened it and peered inside at the massive quinine pills. "What are the symptoms of malaria? Does missing your medicine have side effects?"
Jim looked at the bottle and back at the wary eyed woman. He frowned. "Fever, chills, shakes, blurry vision, occasionally delirium, especially when the quinine is mixed with other drugs. That's not even taking into account the fact that the more time between onset and first dose of medication, the longer you're ill. You are even more trouble than I'd expected. How long ago did the symptoms show up? Have you taken any of this yet.?"
"Three hours ago, while I was on my way here." Reluctantly she sat up, frowning as she tried to remember if she'd taken any quinine before drifting off into sleep. She shrugged at the lack of memory and winced as her wound reminded her of the reasons to avoid that movement. Her voice was a mere whisper as she admitted, "I don't remember taking any quinine."
"Finish packing her stuff, Chief. I'll be back for you as soon as I get her down safely." The big man scooped her up into his arms and headed for the tunnel.
"Wait. There's an easier way out." She finally gave up. There was no way she was going to out argue the Sentinel. Ellison could win this one. Besides, she really didn't want the younger man to have to go through the maze again, not with his fear of heights. It was too firmly drilled into her upbringing to risk a Guide for any reason. Sentinels were rare and to be respected for their abilities. Guides were just as rare but they seemed to have an amazing ability to get into trouble which meant they were not to be enticed into more trouble. Especially when this Guide's Sentinel was already upset with her. She would argue with them another time and another place. "Press the water nymph's eye."
Blair finished stuffing things into her bags and stood. He slowly circled the room, looking at the murals until he spotted the one he was looking for. A life-sized nymph, dancing in a waterfall was staring down at him. With a grin for the picture, he reached up and tapped the nymph's eye. A low groan announced the opening door in the wall.
"Cool, secret passages and hidden rooms. Any other surprises?" He commented quietly. She ignored him as they entered the passageway.
AJ wriggled and came into contact with a source of warmth. Finally, she'd found something warm to hold onto. Instantly, she curled into the warmth, snuggling down and latching on to the heat source. As she tried to burrow herself deeper into it and away from the frigid air, hands began pushing her away. Vaguely she heard voices.
"Chief, you're going to have to hold onto her. I can't drive with her in my lap."
The voice was more annoyed than angry. It was speaking English, why on earth English? Was she with another American group? She started to drifted away again as firm hands and arms wrapped around her, pulling her up against someone else. This person was not as warm, though. She started to pull away from him but stopped, listening to the mellow murmur in her ear.
"Easy, AJ. We're almost there." One hand strayed to her forehead. "Jim, she burning up, man. Maybe we should take her to the hospital. They're better equipped to handle this kind of thing."
AJ's eyes flew open and she began fighting the arm around her waist. It refused to let go, so she resorted to dirty tricks. The feel of her head slamming into his chin was painful, doubling the pounding headache she already had. The mix of pain and dizziness nearly knocked her out. The voice retreated, moaning, but he didn't release her waist. Vaguely she heard both voices cursing and yelling as she struggled
.
She kept fighting, trying to break free. She only knew that she had to get away, nothing else mattered. The car? Truck? slid across the road as one of her failing fists hit the driver's side. She could hear her own voice, but it sounded wrong. Too far away, too unreal, too young to be her. It had to be a nightmare, but she couldn't wake up.
"No! Lemme go!" The oddly too-young voice spoke again, cracking and breaking as it did.
"Hidalga!" The first voice roared, slamming the sound into her ears. When she winced it toned down, lowering enough to be bearable. The truck, yeah, it sounded like a truck, not a car, was brought back into control. "No one's taking you to the hospital. I promise."
"Cross your heart?" She tried to focus her eyes on the speaker but couldn't. Her head pounded painfully, distracting her...
She wasn't sure she could trust the voice. She knew how gentle a voice could sound and how cruel the actions it covered. The arm around her loosened, thinking she was quiet and calm now. She slipped free. As the hands grabbed for her, she unlatched the door and dove over the person sitting there. The hands caught the overly large coat and she slipped out of it, landing in a bank of snow. Cold, oh it was so cold... she could feel her tears freezing on her cheeks. She scrambled to her feet, looking around, trying to make sense of what she could see.
Falling snow, white swirls of blowing, falling snow. She remembered snow, lots and lots of snow. Snow for building snowmen and forts and having battles with her brothers and cousins. But that was from a long time ago... how did she know it was a long time ago. WHERE WAS SHE? Snow meant she was near her home. She began to run, run away from where she'd been. But hadn't she made a promise never to go back home again? AJ stopped, confused, maybe if her head would stop pounding, she could think better. Slowly, she turned around, trying to figure out where she was. How close was she? Maybe if she was not too close to home things would be okay.
The buildings and the street were deserted. There were no people visible, only snow, snow covered streets, buildings, vehicles, and falling snow. Everything was white and shades of gray and white tinged with blue. Everything wavered and blurred alarmingly. How could this be? Where was her sight? She made out a blue pickup truck, sitting on the road, heat still rising from its hood. Its doors were hanging open as if it had been abandoned suddenly. Movement caught her eyes. The passenger was approaching her cautiously. He was young and the face was familiar. His presence was not a surprise. Or was it? Where were her brothers? Where was she? She shook her head in confusion and the motion made the world spin.
"AJ? Take it easy. You're sick and need to get out of the snow." His voice was so concerned for her. Blair! That was his name, she knew him! But why was he calling her AJ? That wasn't her name, not really. At least she didn't think it was. She couldn't remember what her new name was supposed to be. Maybe she hadn't told him her name. No, she trusted him... she thought she did. AJ... yeah, that was what her knew name was. Blair felt safe, safe enough to trust. Her instincts were usually right, but she couldn't remember whether she had really trusted him, or had just befriended him.
She was surprised by strong arms coming around her, pinning her arms to her sides. The man behind her knew her moves before she made them. Even as she tried to fight him, he forced her to stop. She turned her head to look at the man holding her. He was a grim-faced man, but not one of the ones she had learned to fear. He was angry with her. Too angry. . . Enqueri was not a good man to anger. He had held the pass for so long... all alone.
Her mind whirled, trying to make sense of the images that danced in them. No! Now was not the time for visions, not without preparation. Flames and knives slithered behind her eyelids as she shook her head, whimpering against the invasion. She bit her lip, using the pain to vanquish them, forcing herself to focus on the man holding her so tightly.
"No, Hidalga. You're not going anywhere but home." The voice was calm, holding in all the fury she could see in his expression. She lost her thread of thought as her past slammed through fever weakened barriers. She feared the controlled ones with good reason. The fear multiplied as he gently wrapped his hands around her wrists. "Blair and I are not going to hurt you. We are not the enemy."
"You'll just kill me, too. Just like they killed the others." She couldn't keep from crying. She should not have come back, she wasn't ready to die. As if for the first time, she recognized the Guide whose blue eyes were fixed on her. A Guide! Training took over, as her skewed thoughts screamed for her to protect the Guide. Maybe she could protect him, buy his safety. "Just leave Blair alone. Let him go. I'll do whatever you want, just let him go. He's innocent, I didn't tell him anything, I promise."
"Shh." The voice was gentle in her ear as it interrupted her. Her head was tucked under the man's chin in an oddly comforting embrace. The warmth he passed on to her was heavenly. His quiet murmurs in her ears slowly sank into her fevered thoughts. Suddenly, the knowledge of who he was cleared her brain. Ellison could not hurt her, not without reason. "Remember who I am, know I won't hurt you. I won't let anything happen to Blair either. It's just the fever talking. . ."
The other figure joined the embrace, lending them his warmth. The two men slid her arms over their shoulders and escorted her to the waiting blue truck. AJ let go. She was too tired to fight the deep voiced man. Too tired to argue anymore. She wanted to find a way to set Blair free. He was too nice, too bright to end up like the others. The memories of past sacrifices, ones neither she nor massive government mobilization had been able to stop, flashed through her mind. She was supposed to be doing something, but she couldn't quite remember what it was. For now, though ,she couldn't think straight, much less crooked. She leaned her head against one of the chests beside her and let that man pick her up. She felt herself dimming as the adrenaline rush faded and relaxed into his arms.
"Sandburg, if you mention the 'H' word again, I promise I'll gag you." The voice rumbled in the chest under her ear. She felt herself placed on a seat and strapped into place.
"Sorry, man. I didn't think she'd hear me or freak out like that." The mellow voice, Blair's voice, spoke again. The breathy words stirred her hair as he wrapped himself around her.
"Yeah, I figured that out on my own." Doors closed and the engine started. There was a pause before the voice continued thoughtfully. "Chief, before she passed out again, she tried to buy your safety. She thought you were in danger."
"What? What is that supposed mean?" The body around hers clung tightly, the hug strengthening.
"I don't know."
Jim pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. He closed his eyes in relief, fighting off the pain that throbbed through his temples. He'd thought the trip out to the museum had been hard. He hadn't counted on the snowstorm worsening or one of his passengers panicking and running out into it. Cascade snowstorms were rare, and one this early in the fall was unheard of, so the city was caught unprepared. That meant the roads were dangerous, even for someone with enhanced senses. They had been lucky to make it back to the loft in one piece.
He glanced over at his passengers. Blair had curled himself around Fortaleza, holding her securely against his chest and pinning her hands in his own. He blearily opened his eyes and looked around. A half-hearted smile crossed his face as he realized that they were at the loft. He began unwrapping his limbs from the still figure.
Fortaleza barely stirred as the young man slipped out from behind her. Jim reached and lightly shook her. Her eyes opened and looked at him groggily before closing again. With a sigh, he pulled her across the seat and into his arms. As she snuggled into his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck. Her fever had disappeared again and he didn't like it. Even with the truck's heater on high, she seemed to be suffering the first stages of hypothermia. Between her wet clothes and trying to fight off the malarial attack, she didn't have much of a chance fighting off the drop in body temperature. If he thought he could make it to the hospital in this storm, he would take her there. Promise or no promise.
Night, Incacha. her whisper was soft. The Quechua words were spoken in a childlike voice. He frowned, wondering where her mind had wandered this time. The young woman was hiding a lot of things and he didn't like the conclusions that were coming to mind. For all that she seemed shy, from experience he knew that there was steel in Fortaleza. Whatever it was she saw in her delirium, it was bad enough to terrify her. Something that could terrify her into pleading for Blair's life bothered Jim. Especially since the thoughts that came to his mind were ominous when he considered the unassuming files he had gotten on her. The whole thing smelled of a cover-up, a nasty one.
Hidalga, it's Enqueri. He whispered to the wet bundle in his arms.
Hello, Enqueri. The eyes opened and looked at him, barely focusing. It's cold, like at home.
Where's home? He asked her as he followed Blair up the stairs. The other man looked up curiously at the their whispered voices.
Home is death. She closed her eyes and drifted off again. He listened to her heart rate drop and steady in sleep. Her breathing calmed as she slowly slid back into unconsciousness.
"Jim? What's wrong?" Blair's urgent voice cut through his thoughts.
He looked up at his partner and shrugged. He wasn't really sure how to explain it to him. How could he tell Blair that he wanted him to stay clear of this woman. She attracted trouble almost as fast as his friend did and he was afraid that the consequences of the two of them together would be catastrophic. And, as was par for the course, Blair considered her a friend. All of his instincts were screaming that she was hiding something. And whatever it was, was bad. He frowned down at the woman lying so innocently in his arms and strode into the loft.
Jim adjusted the water, testing it carefully. Satisfied that it was safe for treating Fortaleza's mild hypothermia, he stood and headed for the living room. As soon as Blair returned with clothes, for her they could begin the process of bringing her temperature back up to normal.
"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Blair's voice came from another room. "I mean, the way she's drifting in and out, she could drown."
"She needs to be warmed and fast, Chief. I'll hold her upright in the water until her temperature is closer to normal" Jim glanced over at the younger man as he headed for the living room. He half wished he knew more about the woman.
Incacha had told him a little about the tattooed Walks Through tribe and even less about the Hidalga. The Chopec shaman had warned him that Hidalga was one of the sagrado, the ones who literally ran the old roads through the mountains, always fighting the bad spirits that tried to destroy the old ways. Any tribe allied to the Walks Through People could call for their aid and one of their sagrado would come. If it was more than a sagrado could handle, others from the Walks Through would join them.
According to legend, the Walks Through had held off a regiment of the Conquistadores long enough for their tribesmen to scatter into the mountains, guaranteeing their people's survival with the loss of every man over the age of adulthood. To keep their people from dying off, the refugees adopted the fleeing survivors of other tribes, forged alliances with already established tribes in the area, and became known for their ability to come and go with very little trace.
When Chopec children were found on the steps of an old temple, Incacha sent out runners begging for another shaman to help him stop the evil that hid in the old walls. Instead of a shaman, the Walks Through people came. Before that they had never traded with the Chopec, they came because one of their sagrado wanted to answer Incacha's call for help. It cost them dearly to wipe out the drug manufacturers that were using the temple as a place to store their refined product. The Walks Through people only asked that the Chopec watch out for thier Hildalga, who was prone to leaping into fires without sending for help first. Incacha and the rest of the Chopec swore to watch out for the sagrado.
When Jim joined the tribe, Incacha made him promise to memorize the pattern of the Hidalga's tattoos, saying the Chopec owed that one more than they could ever repay. But he hadn't said anything about the Hidalga being so young. He understood that to the Chopec and other tribes of Peru adulthood came early, but it still threw him to think about it.
Jim shook himself, clearing his head as he noted she had moved. The blankets were still draped on the sofa, but Fortaleza was gone. He hadn't even heard her move. He looked up to see that she was curled up next to the wood stove, not quite close enough to touch it.
"What are you doing up?" He asked as he crouched next to her. She turned her head, eyes still closed as she listened to him. "I thought you were out for a while."
"Hello. Where am I?" Fortaleza asked, eyes opening and watching him. According to Incacha, Hidalga was as dangerous as she was honored by the tribe. All of the sagrado were considered dangerous, like edged weapons that must be handled carefully. Sagrado were known by their tattoos, the more they had on their arms, the more tribes they knew. The more tribes, the less likely they were to live to an old age. Fortaleza's tattoos formed bands as wide as his hands, promising as many enemies as allies. He hated getting caught between his old life and his current one, especially when it involved his time in Peru but he could feel the winds of change coming.
"Cascade." He gently used one hand to tilt her head, forcing her eyes to meet his. "Do you know who I am?"
"Detective James Ellison, Enqueri, Sentinel." She replied, shivering and trying to get closer to the fire. Jim nodded, accepting her words and her relaxation as what they truly were, a cessation of the silent battle for control between them. Maybe she wouldn't tell him everything, but once she accepted that he was a Sentinel and she was in his territory, Fortaleza was honor bound to accept his assistance, protection, and to a minor degree orders. It would make his life a lot easier.
"Come on, let's get you into the bath." He gripped her arms lightly and pulled her to her feet. He kept encouraging her softly. "That's a girl. You can do it."
She leaned on him, concentrating on moving her feet. The Sentinel wrapped his arm around her waist, supporting and guiding her to the bathroom. Once there, he sat her down and began stripping her of the borrowed coat and shirts. She stared dully at him, shivering even more as the cool air hit her skin. As he pulled her up onto her feet, her skin formed goose bumps in reaction to the chilly room. He noted her shivers and sped his movements. Fortaleza tried to help but her numb fingers only got in the way so Jim deftly pinned them in one hand. Within moments, he'd removed her wet shoes, socks and pants, leaving only her underwear and lifted her into the warm water.
Her knees promptly folded and she sank down into the tub. Fortaleza groaned as the warmth wrapped itself around her cold body. She closed her eyes with a blissful smile and began to slide under the water. Jim had to move quickly to catch her, barely keeping her from submerging completely.
"No, you don't." At the sound of his voice, Fortaleza's eyes sprang open. The pale green irises flickered with recognition before becoming unfocused again. Behind him, Jim could hear Blair's entrance. The woman's eyes focused behind him, blinking in confusion.
"Well, at least her eyes are open and trying to focus now." Blair's voice came from over his shoulder. "She still looks kind of out of it. Need a hand?"
In answer, Jim gently shifted her so the younger man could reach her. The moment Blair's fingers touched her skin, Fortaleza jumped as if scorched. Between the suddenness of the move and the fact that her skin was slick from the water, she managed to slip out of Jim's hold. Her panicked move slammed her into the tile wall.
"Shit!" Jim forced himself to freeze as Fortaleza's eyes darted from one man to the other. After a moment they closed and she sagged against the wall. Only Jim's quick move kept her going under the cooling water.
"AJ!"
At Blair's worried tone, confusion crossed Fortaleza's face. She forced her eyes open again and they met the Sentinel's. She looked completely lost, and something about the plea in her eyes made Jim shudder. One of her hands caught at his hands. She whispered, "No."
"Easy, AJ." Blair's voice only made her struggle again.
"Hidalga!" Jim kept his voice low, but the command was still there. The young woman ceased her struggles. "We have to get your temperature back up to normal. This is the only way..."
"Jim, it might be cultural," the anthropologist interrupted. With a deft finger he reached out and tapped her arm, hitting a dark colored tattoo. "I think I recognize this one. It's from a coming of age ceremony. That tribe has a lot of taboos regarding women and chastity issues. She may have accepted you, but I think I'm the problem."
"Great! Just great! She can't shower on her own right now and that's the best way to both get her warm and clean. " The Sentinel growled at them both. He stared down at the figure trying to curl away from his scrutiny. Suddenly the tattoo beside his thumb came into focus. He smiled, and from her worried glance, that startled her. "Hidalga, you bear the mark of Incacha. That makes you one of my tribe. We are related. Blair is my Guide, my tribe. "
He watched her, eyes narrowed, wishing he could read the thoughts flickering across her face. She looked down at her shoulder, staring at the tattoo his thumb was rubbing. The small symbol easily disappeared under his thumb. Finally she nodded, releasing the hard grip on his wrist.
You are my elder brother, Sentinel. You are of my tribe. Your Guide is as my family. The Quechua words were intoned solemnly, a vow that struck Jim hard. By tradition they were family, they were of the same tribe. That meant it went both ways.
You are family, little sister of the winds. Mine and my Guide's. Jim quietly intoned the response. Although the ritual had not been performed, the oath was one that both would honor. Blair's quiet exhalation brought Jim's full attention to the present. "Good. Now I want you to be still while we take care of you."
Fortaleza nodded wearily, closing her eyes. In near silent communication the two men went to work. Blair pulled the plug, letting the water escape while Jim pulled AJ up against his chest. One hand holding her in place, he used the other to untie her thick braid. Blair began adjusting the water, trying to find the perfect temperature.
"Chief? Can you hold her for a moment?" Jim whispered.
Blair moved over and quickly took the shivering form. AJ, eyes still closed, leaned against him, soaking his shirt. "How are we going to ...?" Blair trailed off as he realized that his friend was stripping off his sweater and shirt. "Um, Jim. Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, think about it, man."
Jim kicked off his shoes and undid his belt. He grinned wickedly at his friend and after removing his belt and shoes stepped into the tub.
"Keep your mind out of the gutter, Sandburg," he commented before pulling Fortaleza back into his arms. As he shut the shower curtain, he tossed more words towards the wide eyed observer. "You'd better grab some more towels, we're going to need them."
"Yes, sir. How come he gets the girl in the shower while I get to go get the towels." Blair's voice came clearly through the sound of the water flowing from the showerhead. "I might as well change into something dry while I'm at it."
Jim fought another grin as he focused his attention on getting Fortaleza under the flow of luke warm water. Holding her against his chest with one hand, he used the other to rub her skin, trying restore circulation. The faint scars that covered her stood out to his sensitive fingers. He pulled her arm out, focusing on it, eyes widening in comprehension.
At first the parrallel lines that ran from wrist to elbow made him frown. There were too many for them to be suicide attempts. The bluish tinge along each scar worried him until he realized it was not from the chill the woman had taken. Unlike the tattoos, which were easily visible marks telling who Fortaleza was, who she knew, and who knew her, the scars marked her kinship to specific people; specific shamans, specific Sentinels and Guides.
Each mark claimed her as adopted by another group, linking her to them far more closely than any blood tie. If she ever needed a place to run, a place to hide, she could go to any of those tribes and disappear so well that no one would ever find her again. If she needed help, she could call and each of those tribes would send warriors to fight at her side. If they called, she would join their battles. No wonder Incacha said she was as dangerous as she was honored. Fortaleza linked more tribes than my unit ever worked with, Jim mused as he turned up the temperature of the water. The blue line that marked his own arm as he grabbed a washcloth.
As he ran the wet cloth over Fortaleza's face, he let his eyes stray over the band of tattoos on her upper arms. Each was small, barely an inch square. On their own they were plain, no more than two muted colors. The oldest one was closest to her shoulder, A blackened square where plain black outlines that had been shaded over each other. Only his Sentinel senses allowed him to distinguish between the different inks used there. When he focused on them carefully he was able to see each outline separately; eagle, anchor, caddeus, and flag.
Jim realized that most of the others, softly hued tattoos that spoke of natural inks rather than synthetics, all seemed to fit her. Several were the tribal marks of people he knew, Incacha and the Chopec among them. Others marked tribes he had heard about or even fought against while with the Chopec. On both arms, the small tattoos were linked together by a yellow coiling border that ran between them. He noted that there were only two completely empty spaces left within the writhing yellow pattern on one arm. The other arm had none. For some reason that Jim didn't understand, the sight of those spaces raised his hackles.
He turned the water up again, adjusting it carefully as he felt AJ's core temperature go up another degree. He grabbed Blair's shampoo, deciding that since she was already wet he may as well make sure she was clean too. For all of Blair's protests that there was no spark between them, he didn't think that it was a job he needed to leave to the younger man.
Several minutes later, Blair stuck his head through the curtain. "I thought the idea was to get her warmed up, not so you could ... well, use it as a cover for um..."
"Have you ever taken care of someone with recurring malaria, Chief?" Jim met his friend's eyes. At the quick negative gesture, he continued, "Until she gets enough quinine into her system to shut down the parasites, she's going to keep spiking fevers. Each one will wear her out more, stress her system more, and drop her immune system farther. After this it gets worse. That's only if she doesn't have one of the resistant strains. This is her last chance at getting clean until she's well."
Blair nodded and reached for a towel as Jim turned off the shower. The Sentinel grabbed it and wiped his face. "I think she'll be okay. Let me get changed into something dry and then we can get her out of here."
"I can do it, Jim." Blair argued.
"She's out cold, Chief. I'd rather both of us were working together just in case she gets delirius again." Jim's sober words made the other man frown. "If she does, it would take both of us to handle her without someone getting hurt."
Moving slowly, the Sentinel lowered the woman and helped by his Guide settled her against the tub. Once Jim was out of the bathtub and the drain was closed, it didn't take long for the water level to rise enough to cover AJ and keep her warm.
"Keep her in the water until I get back. It's warm enough to keep her warm, the room isn't."
Blair glared at his partner. "Yes, Dad. I know how to handle hypothermia."
Jim ignored the jibe as he took another quick scan of Fortaleza's temperature. Then with a glance at his Guide, he shifted her so that her head lay against Blair's forearm.
She opened her eyes a few moments after she felt the hands holding her change. She knew she had been drifting in and out but somehow it didn't seem to matter.
"Hi, Sunshine." Blair looked down at her. At some point he'd changed clothes, looking much more comfortable in the too large sweater and torn blue jeans he was now wearing. "Feeling any better?"
"Yes, I'm actually warm." She smiled at his chuckle. "Can I get out now?"
"Give Jim a minute to change and then we'll get you out, okay?"
She coughed lightly and sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. Blair released his hold on her shoulder, moving to push the long strands of hair out of her face. He tilted her chin up and grinned when she flicked water at him. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. Look, it's not worth the effort of fighting either Jim or me." The gentle face was solemn and stubborn looking. "You won't win this one either. Maybe, when you're all healed, I'll start letting you win arguments again."
"Problems, Chief?" Ellison's voice was deceptively soft as it echoed through the small room.
"No, just explaining the newest house rule." The grin Blair tossed over his shoulder made the bigger man stand at attention. "I get to rule over my sick or injured companions without any arguments at all."
"Sounds good to me." Jim grinned at the thought of Blair's ideas on recuperation and recovery tactics. He had to admit, he did heal faster under the young man's ministrations. "Let's get her up and dressed."
AJ found herself hauled out of the bathtub and stripped out of her wet underclothes. Ellison kept one hand lightly wrapped around her shoulders to support her as the other efficiently dried her with a towel. Sandburg was busy, his hands briskly enshrouding her hair in another towel. Then he gasped and one of his hands went to her back, gently tracing a long, twisted scar.
"AJ?" His voice trembled as the hand traced another scar. The emotions in his voice, shock, pity, pain, and rage made his throat close to any other words.
She shuddered, trying to escape Blair's hand, pulling away from both men. Jim reacted instantly, understanding her reaction. He quickly wrapped the towel he'd been using around her and pushed her gently to sit on the tub. Picking up the oven warmed blue sweats, he placed them in her lap, keeping his body between Fortaleza and his partner.
"Blair, out." The sentinel's voice was calm, but there was no argument from the stunned man. He turned his attention back to the still figure and crouched down beside her. "Go ahead and get dressed. I'll take care of Blair. Fortaleza? Do you think you can do this on your own?"
She forced her head up and looked into his eyes. The big man felt for her, but he was not going to ask questions she could not answer. She nodded slowly to him. Accepting her silent assurance, he stood and walked out of the small room.
As soon as he stepped from the bathroom, he saw Blair pacing the hallway. The smaller man gripped his own waist tightly. The anger in his voice was all self directed. "I really blew that didn't I?"
"Take it easy, Chief." Jim looked at his partner, seeing the guilt and exhaustion. "It's not your fault, we're all tired. That was not an easy sight to see. From the way she startled, I think she forgot about the scars until you brought them up. She got them a long time ago. When or if she ever wants to talk about them, we'll be here waiting."
"Yeah, but you didn't freak out when you saw them."
"I knew they were there as soon as I saw her tattoos, Chief. They matched the ones on the figure in the picture." He saw again the photograph from her file, the one that was misidentified as probably being of a young Cage. Part of him was glad that the tribesmen had killed the men who done that kind of damage to anyone. Another part of him, the part that Blair teasingly called his blessed protector wasn't as satisfied. "I was prepared, you weren't."
"The photos? But I thought... That means Cage took the picture but AJ was the one on the ground." Blair's voice broke off ,as it began to make sense. "No wonder she hates uniforms. Those soldiers nearly killed her, didn't they?"
"She survived, Chief." Jim let his hands rub at Blair's tense shoulders as they stood quietly, both relaxing in the comfort of the other's touch. As he heard AJ fumble with the door, he released Blair and stepped forward. He wanted to be able to help her if necessary.
It was a long moment before the young woman opened the door. Jim watched patiently as she slowly and very carefully let go of the doorframe and joined them. She was holding herself very still, waiting for their reaction.
"I think those sweats look better on her than on you, Chief." Jim's voice made her smile just a little.
"You know, I think I agree with you." From the corner of his eye, Jim noticed that Blair watched her, worry creasing his face, waiting for her acceptance. Her smile reassured him so he continued his light teasing. "A bit on the skinny side, but she definitely looks better in them than I do. Must be the way she fills them out."
AJ grumbled to herself, her words just a little too muffled for the Sentinel to understand, as they gently herded her out to the living room. When Jim tried to settle her on the couch, she shook her head and pointed to the fireplace. Jim looked over at Blair before shrugging and helping her settle on the rug next to it. The younger man tossed a pillow to them and grabbed the afghan from the back of the sofa.
"Where did you put her medicines?" Jim asked quietly, as he handed the pillow to Fortaleza.
"I'll get them." Blair disappeared into the kitchen, still holding the afghan. He returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a tray. Setting it down on the table, he quickly set aside two mugs of coffee and opened the pill bottle. As Jim spread the afghan over her, Blair held out a handful of pills and a mug of tea.
"What's this?" Fortaleza asked quietly, taking both from him. Before Blair could answer her, she tossed the pills in her mouth and gulped enough tea to swallow them. She winced as the hot liquid went down her throat. Without pausing she took the glass of water that Jim handed her and downed it.
"Quinine, extra strength Tylenol ,and the tea is good for healing." He spoke softly, eyes widening as he realized what she'd done. "How did you know you could just take them like that? You didn't even wait to find out what they were."
"Ellison is Sentinel to the Chopec. You are his Guide. I am adopted into the Chopec. That makes us from the same tribe. It's more than a family tie. It makes both of you safe, trustworthy. I can and do trust both of you." As she spoke, Fortaleza began to curl up, cuddling herself into a ball under the afghan. She blinked at them sleepily, watching them as they thought over her words. "Since I trained under Incacha and Enqueri is our Sentinel, that makes you my brother or cousin or was it brother-in-law? Something like that. I can't keep the words straight."
Both men choked on their coffee at her confused whisper. Two pair of shocked eyes turned to her. Before either could comment, she closed her eyes and whispered, "I have a package for you... remind me to get it for you."
"How long will she keep this up?" Blair helped his partner lift the sleeping woman from the rug to the couch. They had made it up as a bed while she slept, trying to speak quietly enough that she wouldn't awaken.
"That really depends, Chief. If you mean the drifting off, her fever and her concussion are the primary causes for that. Once the quinine takes effect, the fever will disappear, so she should be back to what you're used to within about four or five hours. Of course, we have to wake her up to check. Since she's on straight quinine instead of Proloquine, she'll have the fever off and on for 48 hours, until the attack dies off." Jim tried to lower Fortaleza onto the couch but discovered that she had a fierce grip on his shirt. He grunted and after a moment growled as she shifted her hands, grabbing skin as well as cloth. "Ouch! Come on, let go you little she-cat!"
It was all Blair could do to keep from laughing aloud as the sentinel's frantic fingers wrapped around the woman's and began levering them loose. He leaned down to help but found himself chuckling too hard to be of any help and Jim pushed his fingers firmly out of the way. The glare he received made him chuckle even more as he watched Jim finally yield to her determined grip and sit down next to her. After a moment, she loosened her fingers. The big man moved fast, slipping her hands away from his chest. His move wasn't quite fast enough, as soon as the hands realized they were empty, they moved. One hand grabbed onto the sentinel's wrist, the other slid around his waist. AJ's entire body began scooting and snuggling into his partner. At the expression on the big man's face, Blair lost all control over the laughter he'd been struggling to contain.
"Jim, I think she likes you." Blair wiped at the tears that were beginning to run down his face. He sat gingerly on the edge of the couch and ran a hand over her wet hair. He looked up to meet the fierce glare and laughed again. He really couldn't blame her one bit. Jim was warm and a person to curl up against when it was cold. Of course, Blair would never admit that... especially not to Jim.
"She's worse than that monkey of yours." The soft words were tinged with laughter too. A gentle smile crossed the sentinel's lips as he shifted her into a more comfortable position. "Why is it that all of your friends are different from anyone else?"
"Reflections of my nature?" the younger man asked. He pulled a wooden comb from AJ's bag and began untangling the wet tresses. "Seriously, man, if you don't want her, I'll take her so you can escape."
"Actually, I'm almost enjoying this part, Chief." There was an odd look on his face as he watched his guide's movements. The dexterous fingers of one hand were running through tangles, leaving smooth wet silky strands behind. After a moment, one of her hands moved and began gently kneading the sentinel's thigh in time to Blair's hand. Between the two movements, Jim was slowly relaxing, mesmerized as he watched. "Of course, getting away from her before she's completely asleep will be impossible."
Blair looked up in surprise. "She's not asleep?"
"It's a very light sleep, probably closer to a doze." Jim kept his voice low. AJ burrowed herself closer. When he laid his hand on her shoulder, she stilled and her breathing paused momentarily. He tilted his head and listened intently, his hand slipping under her hair to rest on her back. He let it rest there, measuring her lungs' activity. "I wonder if she trusts us enough to go all the way to sleep."
"She trusts you enough to let us bring her here, man." Blair's words were soft as he began making a long braid of her hair. "She's always politely refused my invitations before."
Jim watched his partner thoughtfully before nodding. In a strange way it made sense. Fortaleza had been too wary to really trust Blair outside of the university setting in which she had come to know him. She knew she could trust him there and so she did. As for Jim, once she recognized him, she had resisted his orders but had trusted him immediately. Even when the fever made her delirious she listened to him. He had the feeling that their lives were about to become complicated. He sighed, watching Blair's quiet movements as they waited for Fortaleza to completely relax.
