Chapter Six

A FEW DAYS later, Sarah, agitated by the evening’s events, strode into her room and closed the door behind her. Three days had passed since her shopping spree. She’d given Ramsey ample time to recover from his shock in the dressing room, but getting antsy again, she had asked him to take her to dinner.

Begrudgingly, he’d agreed. Now, dinner over, she reviewed the occurrences from the past hour. The evening had gone smoothly up until the end of the meal, but as they had prepared to leave they realized the restaurant had grown busy. Outside, valet parkers had appeared and a row of vehicles idled out front, waiting to be parked. His car blocked, Ramsey attempted to work with the valet service to free it while Sarah waited inside at the bar.

She’d been standing there, watching the restaurant fill, and wondering if she’d ever again be able to enjoy the simple freedom of coming to dinner without having to look over her shoulder, when a man had approached her.

Remembering what happened next, she replayed the conversation in her mind as she changed out of her clothes and threw on a pair of sweatpants.

 

- - -

 

“Are you looking for someone?”       

Startled out of her thoughts, she looked over to see a man about her age, holding a drink and looking slightly inebriated.

“No,” she answered. “I’m just waiting for a friend.”

The man smiled. He was attractive enough, with brown hair and a mustache, his cuffed shirtsleeves and loose tie indicating his appreciation that the work day had ended. He looked over at someone else at the bar. Sarah followed his gaze and saw another man of similar appeal. “Even better,” said the man. “Maybe you and your friend would like to join us? Buy you two a drink?”

Sarah couldn’t help but smile back. “I don’t think my friend would be interested.”

The man’s smile dropped. “Why not?” he asked. “She have a boyfriend?” He slightly slurred the word “boyfriend.”

“Um, no. No boyfriend.”

The smile returned. “Great! Then why don’t you two join us? My name’s Doug.” He held out his hand.

“Sarah,” she said, shaking his slightly sweaty palm.

Seeing his pal making some headway, the friend came over to join the conversation.

“This is Mark,” said Doug.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

Sarah shook his hand as well.

“Sarah’s waiting for a friend.” Doug looked at Mark, who gave him a pleased look, as if somehow this meant they had scored for the evening.

“Terrific,” said Mark. “You two want to join us for dinner?” He at least appeared slightly less intoxicated.

“I already asked that,” said Doug, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh, sorry,” replied Mark.

“Actually,” said Sarah, “We’ve already eaten.”

“That’s not possible,” said Doug, holding out his arms as if showing himself off. “The main course has only just arrived.” He grinned as he attempted to wiggle his hips.

Mark put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and, leaning into him, said something in his ear.

Sarah could only stand in surprise.

Doug’s body posture stiffened. “I am not drunk,” said Doug. “I’m fine. I’m just joking around.”

Looking embarrassed, Mark said, “Sorry. It’s been a long day. He’s just letting off some steam.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Sarah as she looked for Ramsey. The bar and restaurant were busy, though, and seeing her way through the crowd had become difficult.

Mark noticed her gaze. “Looking for your friend?”

“Yes.”

“We’d love it if you had a drink with us,” said Mark. “I know you’ve had dinner. How about a nightcap before you take off?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What’s your friend’s name, by the way?”

“That would be John.” Ramsey came up from behind and stood between her and Mark. Sarah sensed his unhappiness.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Doug.

Mark instinctively moved his hand to Doug’s elbow as Doug reacted to Ramsey’s entrance. Doug pulled away and swayed, losing his balance. Reaching out to catch himself, he grabbed Sarah’s arm and leaned into her, pulling her sideways. Now almost bumping heads with him, Sarah could smell the alcohol on his breath, and she tried not to breathe.

Ramsey reacted. He stepped forward and put one hand on Doug’s midsection and another on his upper arm. Doug froze, a small strangled sound came from his throat and he doubled over. Ramsey caught him and lowered him into the closest unoccupied chair. Mark reached over and grabbed Doug before he tumbled out onto the floor.

“I think your friend’s had too much to drink,” Ramsey stated, letting Mark take over. He stood, and taking Sarah by the hand, cleared a path out of the restaurant. Sarah could only stare back at the two men as Ramsey led her out the door.

They walked into the parking lot. “What did you do to him?” she asked.

“Nothing. He’ll be fine. He just needs to sleep it off.”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

Ramsey opened the car door for her, and she got in. He didn’t answer her.

But moving to the driver’s side and getting into the car, he spoke bluntly. “What the hell do you think you were doing?”

Sarah didn’t understand. “Why are you angry at me? What did I do?”

“Why didn’t you wait outside? I turn around to look for you, and you’re gone.” He put the car into drive and headed out of the parking lot.

“Because you were busy arguing with the valet people, and I wanted to wait inside.”

“And why were you talking to them?”

“Because they came up and talked to me. What was I supposed to do? Act like a deaf mute?”

“Yes. Why not? You didn’t have to engage with them.”

“I didn’t expect them to approach me. I was just standing there.”

“It’s a bar, Sarah. You’re an attractive single woman standing alone. What did you think would happen?”

“What? You think single women in bars have some sort of tractor beam or something?”

“Yes, actually. I think they do. Especially when it comes to drunk men.”

“Ramsey, he was harmless. So was his friend.”

“How do you know that?”

“Really? Please.”

Ramsey tried to rein in his anger, wishing she would take her safety more seriously. He focused on the road, intent on getting her back to the house.

“Admittedly,” he said, staying calm, “he was not a mastermind of intelligence, but regardless, you cannot take risks like that.”

“What risk? Passing out from his bad breath?”

“Sarah, I am not kidding.”

“You really need to let up a little bit. I’m not going to live in a cage forever.”

“Listen to me—” he started to say, but she interrupted him.

“I don’t want to talk about ‘danger’ and ‘be careful’ and ‘don’t talk to strangers,’” she said. “It’s getting to be ridiculous.”

“We are going to talk about it. Whether you like it or not. Tonight. When we get back.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

She debated arguing with him, but she knew the tone in his voice and she knew if she did, they’d only end up in a fight. To make matters worse, Hannah had conveyed to her last week that Ramsey’s birthday was tomorrow. She had secretly planned to somehow surprise him with a cake and present, and she didn’t want to ruin it by having an argument tonight. So she chose to stay quiet, and they spent the rest of the ride home in silence.

Now, after heading to her room, she threw on a relaxed cotton shirt with her sweatpants and headed back out into the kitchen, determined to stay cool.

Ramsey sat at the kitchen table, unmoving.

She opened the fridge and pulled out a soda, pulled the tab back, and took a drink. “You want anything?” she asked.

He looked up. “No. Thanks.”

Watching him for a second, she took another drink and then went to sit down across from him. He remained quiet.

“So?” she asked.

Finally, he seemed to pull himself out of whatever well of thoughts he was wading in and answered her. “How was your session with Declan this morning?”

Surprised that he had not dived straight into the “You need to be more careful” speech, she replied, “Fine. Nothing new to report, though. But, I’m sure Declan told you that.”

He remained impassive. “Not really. We didn’t talk much.”

“Oh. I thought you got a personal status report every time.”

He shook his head. “The Council might, but I don’t. I live here with you. I suspect that if something new happens, I’ll know it before Declan does.”

“Yes. You probably would.” She watched as he looked back down at the table, scratching at some invisible mark on the surface. “Declan did say my human sensitivities are progressing well. They’re becoming quite acute, apparently.”

“Really? That’s something, I suppose.”

“I suppose.”

He still did not initiate the conversation she was expecting. After she took another sip of her drink, she finally asked, “So how long are we going to keep up with the small talk?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, still scratching at the table.

“Ramsey,” she said with impatience, “what is it? What do you want to tell me?”

That got his attention, and he met her eyes. “I need to tell you about what happened during your Shift.”

She stared at him for a moment. “Okay. So tell me. What happened?”

Ramsey took a hesitant breath, debating with himself. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he needed her to understand the risks. He realized now he should have told her sooner. Seeing her gone this evening when he’d turned to look for her in the parking lot had panicked him. That panic had doubled when he’d walked into the restaurant and seen her talking with the two men at the bar. It had taken much of his self-control not to grab her and pull her out of the room the moment he’d found her.

Pushing back his fear, he started talking. He told her about the events in the other house. How three men had broken in and threatened all of them. How one of them was her initial abductor, who had died in an encounter with Declan while gaining access to the house. How Ramsey and Declan had been subdued, and about Leroy’s injury. He told her how she had emerged and protected Hannah, and how she had saved him and Declan from probable death. He told her how her counter-attack had resulted in the death of one man and the wounding of another, and how Declan had fought with the wounded man, but that he, referring to himself, had ultimately stabbed and killed that man. And lastly, he told her how she had saved Leroy’s life, almost at the cost of her own, and he gave her a brief account of how he’d connected with her to save her.

Sarah sat still through all of it. Wanting to hear everything, she let Ramsey finish. She knew something extraordinary had happened, but this was the first time she’d heard the details. Vague memories surfaced, more of healing Leroy than anything else. She sat back in her seat, her soda untouched.

“You okay?” he asked, watching her for any reaction.

“That’s quite a story.”

“Every bit of it is true.”

“And those men…those men who came for me. You think they knew someone else who’ll come back?”

“We believe they have a brother. He’s the one we’re afraid might come for you.”

“And you think he’s the other Red-Line?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be sure?”

“That he’s a Red-Line, or that he’ll come for you?”

“Well, both.”

“X said he would before he died.”

“Wait a minute. X?”

“Yes. The two men were twins. They called themselves X and Z.”

“X and Z? How unimaginative. Who would name their children letters?”

“Well, we doubt they were born to a loving mother and father.”

“Obviously not.” She sat, thinking. “And he said they’d come for me?”

“Not they. Him. We assume he meant another brother.”

“Were X and Z Red-Lines?”

“No, they were some sort of mutant form of Gray and Red. Something that we’ve never seen before. That, and the way they reacted to Y, makes us assume that Y is a pretty powerful fellow. More powerful than they were.

“Wait. Who?”

Ramsey realized he hadn’t explained Y. “We figured if there’s an X and Z, then there’s probably a Y somewhere. The brothers pretty well confirmed it.”

Sarah sat quietly, staring down at the table. “Y?” she asked.

“Yes.” He watched her to gauge her reaction. “Do you understand now why I’m a little cautious?”

Sarah barely heard him. She was back at the coffee shop, where she’d met with Rachel a week ago. Chills ran over her skin as she remembered the man who’d sat down at the table across from her. The man who’d introduced himself as Yates. That flare of warning replayed in her mind.

“Sarah, what is it?”

Looking up at him, she knew he could read her unease. “Nothing. It’s probably nothing.”

“What is probably nothing?”

She could almost hear his alarm bells going off. “I don’t want you to freak out.”

“Freak out over what? What happened?”

She didn’t know what to say.

“Sarah…”

“I… In the coffee shop…there was a man.”

“A man? What man? In the coffee shop?”

“Last week. When I met Rachel.”

“There was a man?” Ramsey tried to stay calm.

“Yes. He sat down at my table. Said he was waiting for someone.”

“And what happened?”

“Nothing happened. He only stayed for a few minutes. Then he left. Gave me the creeps, though.”

“He gave you the creeps?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Nothing specific. Just the way he felt.”

Ramsey’s own chills broke out. “The way he felt?”

“Yes. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Thought I was being overly sensitive. But then you said the brother’s name was Y.”

“His name was Y?”

“No, not Y. The man who sat with me called himself Yates. I remember because he said something about not being named after the poet.”

“Yates?” Ramsey’s eyes reflected his fears. “Damn it. How come you didn’t tell me this?” He stood and grabbed his phone off the counter.

“How was I supposed to know who he was? Besides, he may not be a bad guy. He may have been just as harmless as the two at the bar tonight.”

Ramsey lowered his phone just before completing the connection. “Is that what you think?”

Sarah stared back up at him, unsure.

Ramsey stared back. “Declan said your human sensitivities were acute. What did you pick up from this Yates? Be honest.”

Sarah could only watch as he held his phone, waiting for her answer. Thinking back on the encounter, another shiver ran through her and she gave Ramsey a confirming nod.

“Make the call,” she said.