Holy tapdancing monkeys, guys! I am SO sorry for taking forever to update! I honestly did not even realize that it had been so freakin' long.
Chapter 11
Kat's hands were healing nicely. The cuts and serrated slashes across her palms were closed, the pads of her fingers knitting together like strange, fleshy yarn. While she was glad of that, it was a bit annoying that neither her mother nor the man she was living with had commented on either the bandages or the lack of bandages.
After all, it had been two days already, so the fact that her hands had been completely covered when she arrived and were now uncovered (if scabby) should not have been exactly difficult to note.
Two days.
"Goddamnit," Kat muttered aloud, running the fingers of her left hand through her hair. Snarking at her mother over something stupid like noticing bandages (after all, this is the mother who snorted crack in front of her own kid, right?) was a thin shield, and a faulty one.
Two days, and nothing.
Not one little scrap.
She wasn't sure what she'd thought. That she'd get to sunny ol' Cali, and whambamshebang, there they'd be, just waiting for her? Kat shook her head, laughing to herself. Sure thing, babe. Right after Reid shows up, all healthy-like and unpossessed.
But still, two days of hunting and searching and remembering and nothing at all to show for it.
Chill, Kat, you're not magic. You're not a Son. You can't just beam to wherever you wanna go.
But even her own mind wasn't fully on her side. See, beneath that comfort, beneath that reminder of her own vulnerability, there was another little part that was saying Sure, sure, you're not magic. You're not human, either. You're a wolf, child, and hunting down these witches shouldn't be hard, should it? You being so good at sniffing up trouble and all...
But in the end, neither sides of her won over. Instead, Kat lifted her chin and cracked her neck, rolling her shoulders defiantly. They were here somewhere. They had to be. Besides, she thought grimly, even if Reid's life didn't hang in this pretty little equation, I'm going to find that coven out of stubbornness alone.
Turning away from the window in her stale, made-up bedroom, Kat went to the door and through it. It was early afternoon. Plenty of time to get out and do a little more trolling.
Passing the kitchen on her way to the door, Kat's nostrils flared involuntarily at the strong, heavy scent of tomato sauce. Pausing, she glanced through the doorframe to see Tom, humming lightly to himself, stirring a pot of something red and bubbly. Oh so domestic, Tom was.
"Kat," he called, seeing her. The jovial tone in his voice made her stomach tighten. She'd managed to avoid spending much actual physical time with either Tom or Mattie, not that that excused their lack of observational powers, but Kat wasn't quite able to bring herself to outright ignore the man when he was speaking directly to her.
"Hey, Tom," she said coolly, scrubbing her palms down the tops of her thighs. "Spaghetti?"
"How'd you guess?" There was an instant where Kat wasn't actually sure whether he was joking or not, and when he didn't smile, she cleared her throat and tapped her nose. "Of course, of course." He turned back to the stove. Kat took a step, and then paused again.
"Where's Mattie?"
"Your mother is at work," he replied, big hands stirring the pot. He held the long wooden spoon like a sword, gripping the end tightly. Kat's eyes followed it around the rim, darting up to catch the arching flicks of sauce that hopped and spit out of the boiling mix. "That's why I'm making dinner tonight, Kat."
"Right. Sure." She did leave then, but there was a funny sort of dropping in her belly, as if a small eel of flesh and electricity had wormed its way into her gut.
888888888888
He woke up, on the plane. Or seemed to, anyway. Regina, her heart hammering through the entire liftoff sequence, had kept one hand firmly on Reid's still forearm, her fingers wrapped around the tendons and bone beneath the cold, roughened skin. Once, the plane jostled a bit, and his pulse jumped, and she nearly yelped.
And then there was an in-flight movie, and she was distracted.
And then there was a meal, which she ate, not really tasting it.
And then Reid opened his eyes.
She'd been asleep, actually. Almost. When it happened. Her head, lolling to one side, had been just about to fall onto his slack shoulder.
When those eyes, those piercing bluegray eyes-
They met hers, without warning, and Regina sat up so fast she nearly got whiplash.
"Reid," she whispered, glancing hurriedly around. The other passengers around them were silent, or chatting, or dead to the world. Not caring. The boy beside her didn't say a word. Didn't blink. Didn't even really seem to see her.
Whatever it was that he did see, though...
It took her a moment to recognize, you understand. She wasn't sure what to do. What was happening. It took her a moment to see that he was shaking. No, not shaking. Not shaking, or shivering, or shuddering. Vibrating. His entire body, from the fine blond hairs on his skull to the creases in his jeans, everything was vibrating so violently that it was almost impossible to notice. And he still hadn't blinked.
Oh mon Dieu, ne m'abandonnez pas, she thought rapidly, crazily. Those eyes. He is seeing something, and it just might be Hell.
The pupils dilated as she watched, dilated and contracted, dilated and contracted. A dance. A rhythm. It pulsated there, in those few seconds that very nearly lasted longer than Regina could bear. His throat hummed with the vibrations of his very pores, a strange, eerie, just-below-your-skin kind of noise. The kind of noise ten thousand bees would make as they suffocated, muted beneath their own death shrouds.
And then it was over.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, the vibrating stopped. Reid's body slumped back slightly, relaxing, and his lids slid shut. Long lashes played against his cheeks, so innocent. Somehow, that was the most horrifying thing of all.
Somehow, it was that sight- oh, lashes, count the lashes, all in a row – that made Regina wonder, genuinely, what the fuck she had gotten herself into.
But they would be in California soon. Four more hours. And once they were there, she would find a way to wake Reid up without- without causing another of those fits, and find out what they were doing on the other side of the continental United States in the first place.