6
Figuring Asa wouldn’t have moved Colby, Clay and I returned to their shared room.
Sure enough, Asa was propped up in bed, Colby and her laptop settled across his knees. She was a bundle and a pair of antennae. That was all I could see sticking out of her green blanket. I couldn’t tell if she had been teaching Asa how to play Mystic Realms or if he had only been watching her. Either way, she was much calmer now than when I left.
Based on the angle, and her degree of swaddling, I wasn’t sure she noticed us enter.
“The rooms have been warded and soundproofed,” I reminded them. “We can speak freely in here.”
After checking that Colby was plugged in, Asa said, “We need to examine the woods behind the inn.”
With her headset on, she was oblivious to the topic of conversation, but she must have felt the vibration of Asa’s voice move through her. She peeked over the top of her screen, spotted us, and attempted a smile before settling back against him.
As much as I didn’t want to prod her about this, we needed more answers.
And I needed to be sure she was okay.
Death is always a shock. Violent death even more so. Poor kid. She had been having so much fun too.
The mother hen in me wanted to cluck about how this was why she wasn’t allowed to play with kids IRL, but I had had enough salt rubbed in my wounds as a child to know that wasn’t productive. And it wasn’t like it was her fault. I couldn’t cast blame on her, or let her blame herself, without diminishing her.
That, I would never do.
“Are we leaving?” Our bags hadn’t been unpacked yet. “Or are we surveilling?”
“We need to find out what happened in those woods for ourselves.” Asa flicked Colby a glance. “She can’t talk about it.”
Another flashback to our early years had me tasting bile as I recalled her shutting down, going mute, when anything reminded her of the Silver Stag or what had been done to her.
Loud noises. Bright lights. Murmured conversation. Absolute darkness.
The huge swing in what curled her into a ball made shielding her impossible, but trauma never did follow a set pattern.
“For now, we take the laptops and any sensitive materials,” Clay decided. “We’ll drive into town and park at a supermarket. We’ll lock those in the SUV, and you can ward it. We’ll leave our suitcases. Proof we’ll be back, in case anyone wants to set a trap for us while we’re gone.”
“What do we do about…?” I rubbed my arms. “She doesn’t need to see more if this is triggering her.”
“We get another hotel room.” Asa aimed the comment at Clay. “You stay there with her, protect her.”
“While you and Rue go have all the fun,” he complained. “How do I always draw the short stick?”
“Colby loves you best?” I punched his shoulder and then regretted it. “And, with one of us on Colby duty, I’ll need Asa and the daemon for this if things get weird.”
“I’m joking.” Clay’s amusement gave way to concern. “You know I love that kid.”
“I know you do.” I began gathering our critical items. “If you didn’t, I wouldn’t ask.”
As much as Clay hated being left out of the action, he was a nurturer. He would make more headway with Colby than either Asa or I would while she was still smarting from her ordeal. The truth was, when it was her and me, I had been her only choice for comfort. That sucked for her, since I was a direct link to that traumatic experience. Clay was a blank slate, a warm shoulder to cry on, and he was good with kids.
He was an antidote she might not realize she needed for the festering wounds from her past.
Loaded up, I waited for Colby to shrink to moth-size and climb into Clay’s pocket. I made one more circuit of our rooms and determined we could live without what we left behind if we had no choice.
We didn’t bump into either teen as we exited the inn, and while Asa loaded the SUV, I called Clay to me.
“Hairs, please.” I accepted the long strands he stole from Trinity and inspected them, discarding two of the five samples for being rootless. “Hold out your hands, pointer fingers extended.”
“This sounds like the start of a fart joke or one kinky evening.”