For the Dead Travel Fast

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Castle was braced for—

what. He didn't know.

Darren Fox was intimidating as he gave Castle a very slow once-over with those all-seeing eyes. If he made some kind of gesture or communicated in any way, Castle missed it; whatever flick of the fingers had caused the lackey to approach, it was evidently at Fox's summoning because he said one word to the man, Wahkara, and the lackey scurried away.

They were then quickly ensconced in what had to be the holding room for troublemakers, a secure metal door closed to the rest of the casino floor, attached to the security office through another metal door on the other side, which they had not been ushered through, no, but around from the floor itself like two hooligans caught tagging the premises.

Kate, for her part, had kept silent and watchful, allowed Castle to do what he did best: talk.

So he had, saying they had met friends of theirs on the road, that a teenager in a taco truck had recommended them, that they had intended on another route but changed it to find them here, that he was grateful to the tribal community for whatever respite they could give.

Fox said nothing.

Castle went on with more mindless chatter then, commenting on the office space, the casino itself, the layout, the landscape they had passed, trying to hit upon something that interested the older man who sat behind his desk without comment. Some point of commonality. Something to connect with.

It was not going very well. Darren Fox was not interested in talk.

He also didn't seem to be a vampire, which Castle considered a boon, as he was certain the scent of him would be noticeable and perhaps even too alluring for polite company. Which Fox was, actually, polite company. He had offered them chairs and water bottles still sealed, so they knew there was no funny business, and he had not taken Kate's weapon though Fox had made it clear he knew Kate was packing, that her holster, despite being discreet, wasn't invisible to his law-enforcing eyes.

"Are you one of the Peacemakers?" Castle said finally.

There was nothing from Fox, but Kate made a disconsolate noise, and he realized he had fallen to the oldest interrogator's trick in the book: uncomfortable silence to elicit information.

Damn.

"No," Darren Fox said, shifting his gaze now to Beckett with an interest in it. "Are you?"

Castle interrupted this, "It's just that we were told to ask for you—"

"Not me."

Castle paused. Nodded. Right, Wahkara must be a password. Darren Fox was merely the tribal leader. Perhaps Castle should keep his mouth shut until more had been revealed.

Kate let out a breath when he stayed silent, which meant, of course, she approved his change in direction. A rap on the door not five minutes later preceded the entry of a second white-haired man, this one younger than Darren Fox due to a lack of wrinkles, but the same weather-beaten face and hard eyes.

"Wahkara," he said to them.

"Oh." Castle stood abruptly on his feet, which made everyone in the room flinch, the newcomer and Kate as well, and he offered up both hands in peace. "I'm Rick. This is Kate. We've been told to ask for you—"

"No, I'm your spirit guide," the man stopped them. "Wahkara is a pathway, not a person."

Kate hesitated, though she had stood when he had.

Castle scratched the back of his neck, gave an involuntary look to Darren Fox, who had not seemed like the type to call for a spirit guide. "Uh. A pathway. Huh."

Suddenly the newcomer's face cracked in a wide smile and he slapped his knee with a hearty laugh. Behind the desk, Fox was chuckling low. "Walt, don't be an asshole. Show them the center."

Show them the center didn't seem much more helpful than this supposed pathway, but Walt opened the door to what Castle had assumed was the deeper recesses of the security office, but turned out instead to be a hallway to a back alley. "Come on, this way. I'm just getting your goat, you guys. White men. So easy to mess with. Wahkara is the code, that's all."

Castle gave an uncomfortable agreement just for something to say, but Kate was already following. That sort of surprised him but within moments they were stepping out of the casino into a parking lot behind the security office which seemed to be for employees. "Walt? Can you tell us where we're going?"

"Darren didn't say? Taking you guys to the rehab center."

"Rehab?" Kate said warily.

"We'll get you a room, and I'll turn you over to the Peacemakers there; they'll give you the guided tour."

Peacemakers meant cops, he had thought. "Uh, our car is in the lot."

"It'll be fine there. You can come back for it later, if you want, but I'm guessing you're gonna need to send a guide for it."

"A guide," Kate said, hesitating outside the big white-panel van Walt had led them to. "Like you?"

"Me or whoever. You know, someone not an open buffet."

"He's not a buffet," Kate snapped. Suddenly she was right in front of him, her hand at the small of her back. "No one better—"

"Hey, hey," Walt said, backing towards the hood of the van. "I don't know much about where you're from, but here we don't tear into each other. You know. Literally or figuratively."

She didn't back down, her body vibrating with indignation and fear; Castle didn't know what to do.

Walt crossed his arms slowly over his chest. "You're both guests of the tribe," he said carefully. "And as such, we respect your property, your life. Since you were recommended to us, we know you'll respect ours."

Castle laid his hand carefully over hers at the small of her back, disengaged her fingers from the hem of her shirt where she was ready to draw. "Let me apologize for my wife, and myself. We've had a long hard road of it. We've not been given much respect. Walt, if you please, lead on."

Walt glanced between them but finally opened the van with a key fob and climbed in behind the wheel. "One of you can sit up here with me, if you like, even her, with the gun. Which we don't approve of."

"I'm not giving it up."

Walt ignored her and started the engine.

Castle, still on the pavement outside with her, opened the passenger door. "Kate. What do you think?" He held the door for her, waiting.

"You think this is…" She glanced at Walt and then turned her back on the man, deliberately angling so that Castle was behind the door and she was the only one vulnerable. "Is this legit? Are we really getting into this guy's van and letting him drive us off?"

"I feel strong right now, no phase approaching," he said softly. "And you've recovered, you have your weapon. He said we could come back for the car, there was no hesitation or dissembling about what's going on here, if perhaps not as much detail as we'd like. Honestly, if they wanted us for experimenting or fodder, we'd be drugged and trussed already."

"That's not as comforting as you think." She set her jaw, glanced across the well-lit parking lot, shifting on her feet. She looked sad and scared and he hated it, but she had to decide for herself, she had to learn to trust.

He touched her throat, felt her pulse thudding. He had no desire to drink, but there was something very reassuring about feeling her heart beating there. He caught her hand and brought her fingers up to touch his own throat, and her thumb caressed his adam's apple, her eyes softening.

"We'll see this through," she said finally. "I'm up front."

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured. She brushed her fingers at his jaw as she turned away. He opened the door wider and let her go first, into the passenger seat beside Walt.

So far, this had all been rather easy; just a matter of screwing up their courage and asking for Wahkara. It had set something into motion, that was for sure, but Castle honestly couldn't say whether that something was menacing.

And as he climbed into a captain's chair in the back of the van, he hoped he wasn't wrong.

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