Chronicles Of The Keeper - The Long Hot Summoning Part 45

"Yeah, whatever." He freed his claws from the surface layer of skin and walked up Dean's chest until he could stare into his face. Blue eyes blinked myopically back at him.

"What?"

"You're okay?"

"I'm bleeding and I'm after being awake when I'd rather not be, but yeah." His voice softened, and one hand stroked gently along Austin's spine. "What's wrong, then?"

"Nothing. Why should anything be wrong?"

"I just thought . . ."

"Well, don't." A purposeful climb over an inconvenient shoulder and onto Claire's pillow. Snuggling down, he glared at Dean, now gazing at him with concern. "I thought you were sleeping?"

"I was."

"So sleep."

"All right. But we'll talk about this in the morning."

"Not so smart to warn me," Austin muttered. Not one of his best comebacks but he was shaken. He watched Dean until he went back to sleep. Watched him sleep. Could see nothing wrong.

He'd been so sure on the stairs. So sure.

He thought about the mouse lying dead under the table and sighed. Maybe he was just getting old.

Chapter NINE.

A pale and slightly murky green, the water had never been treated by chemicals or filtered through anything but a fish bladder. As Claire's head broke the surface and she sucked in a welcome lungful of air, a light caress trailed down the inside of one leg.

Oh it's fresh water. Great.

Pus.h.i.+ng her dripping hair out of her face with a quick swipe of one hand, she began treading water and trying to figure out exactly where she was. A combination of suns.h.i.+ne and a gentle swell threw reflected light up into her eyes, making her squint.

Outside.

Far enough beyond the segue for there to be actual weather, not the neither/nor sort of sky that had been draped over the mall, but still on the Otherside.

She'd been lucky. With both her conscious and subconscious preoccupied in sending the shadow a.s.sa.s.sin to a place where it would be no threat, she could have ended up anywhere. Stepping through a door on the Otherside with no clear idea of a destination could have resulted in a visit to any number of unpleasant places, not only on the Otherside but in the real world as well.

She could have ended up on the south side of Chicago.

Vancouver's Downtown Eastside.

The West Bank.

The north of Afghanistan.

At a second-run theater screening of Attack of the Clones.

Claire shuddered.

A little water was a small price to pay.

She was wet and her batik silk skirt might never recover but she was safe. Arthur was safe. She had defeated the shadow. All that remained was to find her way back to the mall, which shouldn't, wouldn't, be a problem for a Keeper of her abilities.

The Otherside was no place for false modesty.

Or actual modesty.

Kicking harder lifted her head above the swells. Unfortunately, it didn't change what she could see, water and sunlight. She turned slowly. Water and sunlight. Water and sunlight. Water and sunlight and . . . something. It might have been fog. It might have been land, lying low along the horizon. She sank down until her chin settled just under the water, rested for a moment, then took another look.

Something.

Exactly what I need, she amended silently and started to swim, the water lapping at her in a vaguely lascivious way.

Years of practice kept her from thinking about all the many things that could go wrong before she made it back to the mall. Plenty of things were likely to go wrong without her help.

"No, you cannot go after Diana. I forbid it."

"You forbid it?" Sam's ears flattened as he glared up at Arthur. "News flash; you're not the boss of me!" Tail las.h.i.+ng from side to side, he stalked toward the door.

Only to find himself lifted off the floor by strong hands tucked into his armpits.

Folding himself almost in half, he got a back paw between his fur and an unprotected palm, got a claw out, and raked it downward.

Anyone else would have hollered and dropped him. Screamed and thrown him aside. Cursed and pitched him. All possible reactions and all a variation on a theme resulting in his freedom. Arthur jerked a little at the sudden pain but held on, and Sam realized he'd continue to hold on even if his hands were ripped to b.l.o.o.d.y shreds. For a moment, he considered testing that conclusion, then the moment pa.s.sed and he found himself dangling helplessly.

"I'll put you down if you give me your word you'll remain in the store."

"And if I don't," Sam sneered.

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to put you somewhere secure until you give me your word or until one of the Keepers returns. They both wished you to remain here and I will not risk their wrath."

"And my wrath?" He had a feeling his look of disdain would have been more successful had Arthur not been holding him so he could see only the back of his head.

"Your wrath, I'm afraid, I will have to risk."

He flexed his claws. "Big mistake, bub."

"Do I have your word?"

"No." He needed to be free. He couldn't be bound to the store by his word when either Diana or Claire might need him. Austin would never allow himself to be held. Too late, he realized Austin would have lied, given his word, and then broken it with a perfectly clear conscience. He could almost hear the older cat's voice as the door to the pet crate closed behind him.

"What part of 'cats make their own rules' did you not understand, kibble-for-brains?"

"I changed my mind. You want my word, you've got it!"