Hellhound had insisted on giving me his jacket, and he hovered closely on the way to the door. I turned to him with a smile. “Relax, I’ve had my food. I’m not going to hit the deck.”
“That’s what ya said right before ya hit the deck last time,” he growled.
“No, I just said I was fine,” I argued cheerfully. “And I was. Would I lie to you?”
“Hell, yeah.”
I laughed, and his shoulders relaxed at the sound.
The lights were on when we arrived at the small house-cum-office. Spider sprang up from his desk as we entered.
“Aydan, thank God you’re okay,” he blurted, but faltered when he took in my dishevelled appearance. I hadn’t looked in a mirror, but I guessed that my nose was red and puffy again, and my hair felt crispy around my face.
“You are okay, aren’t you?” he added uncertainly.
I nodded. “I’m fine, no worries.”
“Thank God,” he repeated.
“Thanks for driving,” Kane told Hellhound. “You saved our butts. You can call it a night now.”
Hellhound grinned. “Yeah, same old, same old.”
I held out a restraining hand as he turned to go. “Wait, you need your jacket.”
He waved it away. “Give it back to me later.”
“Arnie, it’s minus ten out. You need your jacket.” I eased it off, babying my aching muscles, and held it out to him. “Thanks.”
He eyed me, his face set in hard lines. My injuries were even more livid against my pale skin with most of the blood cleaned away. I followed his gaze and offered him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, you know my Princess skin. It’ll be all better tomorrow.”
“Take your jacket, Hellhound,” Spider said from behind me. “I brought Aydan’s jacket with me from Blue Eddy’s.”
I turned to take it from him. “Thanks, Spider.”
The young man’s eyes widened as he took in my scratches and bruises and the slashed, blood-soaked shirt.
“Oh my God,” he gasped. “Oh my God.” He dropped into his chair and hid his face in his hands.
I slipped on my jacket to hide the mess. “Hey, Spider,” I said gently. “It’s okay, it only looks scary. I just had a nosebleed. Same as at Sirius.”
“They…” He lifted a pallid face out of his hands, his eyes dark with distress. “They tortured you.”
“Hey, Spider. Buddy. Relax,” I comforted him. “I’ve been hurt worse than that playing basketball. With friends.”
Germain frowned disbelief. “That sounds like a different kind of basketball than I used to play.”
I grinned. “Yeah, we weren’t too hung up on the rules.” I held out my left hand and showed them the short, ragged scars on the back. “This is what happens when you try to steal the ball from a 250-pound steroid-fuelled ex-football player.”
I was pleased to see Spider was becoming distracted by my story. “What happened?” he asked, examining my hand. “How did you get the scars?”
“Those were from his fingernails.”
He gazed at me, open-mouthed. “He did that? Because you tried to steal the ball?”
I grinned. “It was an accident. He felt really badly afterward.” I paused for comic timing. “At least I think he did. It was hard to tell under that low, steroid-induced brow ridge.” I mimed an ape-like gait, arms swinging, knuckles dragging.
Spider let out a half-hearted laugh. “You’re crazy.”
The other three men had been watching while I told my story, and Germain diverted Spider’s attention with a question. As they turned away, I braced myself on the corner of Spider’s desk, straightening slowly. That little show had cost me in pain, but it was worth it to see the colour returning to Spider’s face.
Hellhound stepped to my side to wrap a strong arm around me, supporting me while I unbent. When I stood upright again, he moved away.
“I’m outta here.” He jabbed a finger at Kane. “I told ya to take care of her. Don’t fuck up this time. Anythin’ else happens to Aydan, an’ I’m gonna do some serious ass-kickin’.”
Kane glowered at him. “Nothing else is going to happen.”
“Better not,” Hellhound growled, and went out the door, closing it with unnecessary firmness.
I sidled over to Kane. “Do you have a T-shirt I can borrow? I’m cooking in this coat, but I don’t want to take it off.” I nodded in Spider’s direction.
“I’ve got some downstairs,” he replied quietly. He spoke up so Germain and Spider could hear him. “We’ll debrief downstairs. I’ve had enough surprises for one night.” They both looked startled, but nodded and fell in behind as he led the way.
We followed Kane down the stairs into a cramped basement. The ceiling was so low that both Kane and Spider had to duck to avoid some of the beams. Kane headed for what looked like a furnace room at the back of the basement, the rest of us following single file. Nobody else looked as curious as I felt, so I assumed it was new only to me.
Kane went directly to the electrical panel, and I was surprised to see it was a 200 amp service, unusual for such a little old house. He threw some breakers in a seemingly random pattern, and as he pressed the last one, he put his face close to the panel. Light beamed across his face. Moments later, a door-sized section of the concrete basement wall swung soundlessly aside.