Luis was not just sex on a Popsicle stick. He was smart, and that was what she found so damn sexy. Not that she went for younger men, or was even interested in sex. She rubbed her face. No, this was not what she had expected out of her day. “What did you see?”
Luis checked out the contents of the fridge again and pulled out the last two bottles of tea. He handed her one. “I saw food trucks entering the property at night,” he said. “Frito-Lay. Dolly Madison. ConAgra.”
She considered that. “Does the company run the mine twenty-four seven?”
He opened his tea and drank. “No.”
She tapped a finger on the table. “Then they aren’t running a cafeteria where they need all that food. Could they be using the trucks for smuggling?”
“That thought occurred to me,” Luis said. “Then I had another thought.” His expression had turned grim. “What if they did need all that food? If they did, who would they be feeding, and where are they? Yesterday I kept a head count of the miners who came to work in the morning, and the same number of people left again at the end of the day.”
She narrowed her eyes on him. “Do you think there are people on the other side?”
He met her gaze. “Claudia, I don’t think there are any good answers to the food truck question.”
“Jesus,” she muttered. Her mind raced. Food trucks could be a cover-up for anything, weapons or drugs, magic-sensitive silver or people. What was happening on the other side of that passageway? Were there undocumented workers? Captive workers? Slaves?
“You know, I liked philosophy when I was in college,” he said quietly. “But I once read a phrase in a class that I never understood. The article talked about natural disasters. You know, floods, earthquakes, that sort of thing, and called them ‘natural evil’. But just because those things might devastate us, that doesn’t make them evil.”
“You mean because they’re occurrences?” she asked.
“Exactly,” Luis said. “They just happen. I think natural evil is our capacity for meanness, when we make the choice to do things that cause great harm. Like the Scott Bradshaws of the world.” He gave her a small, twisted smile. “There’s not much more to tell before I got shot. I scaled the fence and got close enough to the actual mine that I felt the crossover passage. I scouted around but couldn’t find it. I had just changed and was running back to the fence when they tagged me. I fucked up somehow. One of them saw me change, or they sensed I was Wyr. An animal of my breed shouldn’t have been inside the fence. Something.”
The memory of the nightmare was back in his face. She clenched her hands, resisting the urge to go over to him and offer comfort. Then somehow she wasn’t resisting any longer, and she was on her feet, walking over to him. She put her hand on his warm, bare arm. This time he covered her hand with his, pressing lightly on her fingers.
“I need you to drive me as close as you can to my campsite,” he said. He looked into her eyes. His own gaze was clear and steady. “I have supplies, clothes and weapons. I can jog the rest of the distance. My Jeep is there, off-road. Then I need for you to drive out of the area too. Will you do that, please?”
She said, comfortably, “Fuck, no.”
He was pissed. He was royally pissed. She could see it in the angle of his shoulders and the way he held his jaw. Well, he was just going to have to deal with it.
She tried her sat phone without much hope. She wasn’t surprised to find she still didn’t have a signal.
One or two stars had begun to show although the sky was still mostly overcast, turning the landscape into dull shadows. In the early hours of the morning, any residual heat from the day was long gone. She found the cold air bitter. When they climbed in the car, she put the heater on high. Soon after, he turned it down and began to argue with her.
She maintained her silence, made the turns when he told her to and kept watch for unwanted company. Finally she told him, mildly enough, “I’m going to smack you upside the head if you don’t stop.”
When she glanced at him, his eyes glittered and his shadowed face was hard, and that expression was even sexier than his flirting.
He took a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “I’m not going to stop.”
She refused to hear nuances in that. She said, “You need to quit reacting with your emotions and think of what is optimal.”
“Optimal,” he spat.
She reached up to pull his hand away from her hair. “The optimal thing would be for you to drive out and take my sat phone with you. You keep trying the phone until you get a signal. You’re the one with the official status, the contacts and the authority. You’ll get help here on the ground much quicker than I would.”