I kind of expected them to whip out their weapons and assume a Navy SEAL type formation. What I got instead was the magical soldiers doing an equipment checklist to make sure they had everything they needed for every possible scenario, the most alarming I overheard was “apocalyptic potentiality.” Which, you know… glad they had something for that.
One of the guys was staying near our injured friends, who introduced himself as Roger Calhoun. “Why do you get to skip the equipment check?” I asked as I walked up.
“’Cause I’m babysittin’,” he said, jerking his head behind him toward the Martinez’s. He had dark brown skin from too much sun, his face leathery and cracked like a dry lake bed. His voice had a low undercurrent of southern drawl. “Scheerhed’s Return isn’t 100% reliable, so it’s wise to have someone on standby in case something goes wrong.”
I hesitated. “Why don’t you just…?”
“Heal them myself?” He finished with a smile, showing he wasn’t offended. He tilted his head towards the warehouse. “Boss says you folks found a real nasty place, so they might need my help if, you know, things go up Shit Creek. Don’t wanna have anythin’ less than a full tank should the worst happen. Your friends should be fine, but we aren’t going to leave that up to chance. Hence: Babysitter.”
I nodded in understanding. A part of me wanted to shout at the man to get my friend back on her feet, but the truth of it was I was mostly glad. I… hadn’t wanted to put my friends in danger in the first place. It spoke to their character that they shot down my objections and came anyway.
And nearly died.
I gave my head a slight shake to clear the thought away. “Thanks for the help,” I said to Roger.
I was thankful for these few minutes of prep because I had to have an awkward conversation with Ida. She was currently helping Tony with his gut wound. He also knew the weird-name Return spell but his wound wasn’t immediately life-threatening so he didn’t have to devote his entire attention to it. I waited for her to finish helping him adjust his position before getting her attention. “Can I talk to you? Privately?” I asked softly.
Ida frowned and looked at Tony, who shooed her away with a blood-covered hand. “I’m good for the next little bit. As soon as I know Alice is out of the woods I’m going to go under myself and fix this hole in my belly.”
“Shout if you need anything,” I said. He gave me a pain-filled grimace that was supposed to be a smile and relaxed by degrees, his vision slowly losing focus as he went about patching himself up.
Ida and I walked about a hundred feet away. As the distance between us and the rest of the group widened, I struggled with how to phrase my request. Ida once again preempted me.
“I’m going,” she said, suddenly stopping and glaring at me. Her feet were planted, a slight bend in her knees. Her hands were held just above where they would rest normally. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was about to fight me. I mean, she was, but not physically.
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I sighed. I’ve been thinking about this since Albright showed up. At the risk of undermining our newly minted relationship, I decided to fight dirty.
“How much ammo do you have left?” I asked.
She hesitated. Opened her mouth to reply.
“Do you have body armor?” I interrupted.
She glared.
“Magic?”
“That is not fair,” she said, almost pleading.
“I know,” I replied in a similar tone. “And I am simultaneously touched and flattered that you are willing to do this for me. But…” I turned and looked at the Prius, still on its side. I made a real show of turning my head toward the smoking pile of rubble that used to be a guard station. Ida made a frustrated noise.
“These guys aren’t playing by the rules,” I said, turning my gaze back to her. I wanted to pull her into a hug, but if I were her I’d be pissed and wouldn’t react well to physical affection. “A strange car parked in front of their warehouse and they shot it with a fucking bazooka or whatever. There aren’t any wards that I can detect, so that might just be their fucking security policy. ‘Any vehicles parking outside the property get blown the fuck up.’”
“You’re one of the most capable people I know, but you are under-equipped for the current situation, as much as it pains me to say,” I said.
“Doesn’t mean you don’t need me,” she said, with a stubborn undercurrent I had never seen in her.
I sighed and pulled out the big guns. “There’s also… Calhoun—he seems alright, but I’m nervous leaving our friends alone and vulnerable with a stranger.”
Ida eyes widened with outrage before narrowing. “That is low.”
I nodded sadly. “I know.”
Ida spun around on her heel, muttering in French. I really should make an effort to bone up on it. It’d be great to see her expression when I suddenly broke out in horribly accented but conversational French.
I shoved aside that thought. Those were plans for if we both survived the next day.
My next thought was interrupted as Ida spun around again and slammed into me with a very aggressive hug. It knocked my breath away a bit and I staggered back a step before I caught myself, wrapping my arms around her.
“You come back,” she said into my chest, her already adorable French accent sounding even more so when muffled by my shirt. “You come back, you get your brother, we STOP HAVING INSANE THINGS HAPPEN—“
She lifted her face up and glared at me. “And when we finally have two peaceful moments to squeeze together, you either teach me magic or make me magic armor or—or something. Tattoo spells onto my skin, give me monster parts, WHATEVER!” She was nearly shouting. “I—I am tired of being normal, surrounded by the things I am powerless against.”
She slammed her face into my chest again—almost a headbutt. I held her as she let out a shuddering half-sob, half-gasp. I reminded myself that my bad-ass girlfriend was human, and probably experience some fucked up things while she had been undercover with magical pirates for a couple of years. Telling her she couldn’t deal with THIS situation was probably bringing up some insecurities… Jesus, I could relate.
“We’ll start with magic guns, like my Webley,” I said. “Remember when we talked about your grandfather's shotgun? I wasn’t blowing smoke up your ass. Did you manage to bring it to the States?”
She shook her head, the motion tickling my chest and she dragged her back and forth.
“Okay, that’s fine, just something to solve,” I said. I glanced over at the others and found them conspicuously looking everywhere but at us. I held Ida for a few moments, gently rocking us back and forth.
“Alright,” Ida said with a sniff. “Okay. Fine. Oui. I understand.” She leaned back, reached up, grabbed my face, and gave me something that I was sure was a kiss but felt more like fireworks.
An indeterminate time later she released me. I couldn’t help the slightly stupid expression on my face. “I will do the prudent thing,” she said, pulling my head down to rest my forehead against hers. “But you owe me a magic gun, at the very least.”
“Deal,” I said with a smile.