“Dude, you can’t assure me of anything. I don’t know if I’d trust God right now.” She glanced around the kitchen. “In fact, I know I wouldn’t.”
Quinn shifted the food around in the bag on the kitchen floor and retrieved the three cans of stew and opened them. He dumped them into a large steel pan and stirred the congealed mass with a wooden spoon. Alice had moved back into the living room, and he followed her, setting the pan near the fire’s edge. Ty huddled beneath the heavy blanket, only a shock of untidy hair and his face visible.
They didn’t speak for a time, settling instead to simply watch the fire as the tantalizing smell of stew filled the room. Even over the popping flames, the intermittent growls of Ty’s stomach could be heard. When the stew bubbled within the pan, Quinn returned to the kitchen to gather three bowls, ladling the brown and chunky mixture into each of them. He took less than half of the amount he’d dished out to Alice and Ty, eating slowly and watching them devour the meal. Ty ate with excellent dexterity, gathering a spoonful and bringing it to his mouth each time without spilling a drop. Now that the fire burned fully, Quinn could see the boy’s eyes weren’t exactly the same as his mother’s. A thin, gray veil covered them, dimming the color that shone so sharp from Alice’s. When his spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl he smacked his lips and let out a small burp.
“Ty!” Alice said.
“Excuse me. That was really good.”
“Do you want more?” Quinn asked, rising from his chair across the room. Ty nodded.
“You can have the rest of mine,” Alice said, beginning to empty the last of her bowl into his.
“No, there’s plenty more. Here,” Quinn said, picking up the pan and pouring the remainder into their bowls. Alice looked up at him for a brief second as he scraped the stew out and moved back to his chair.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Thank you!” Ty trilled, his mouth full.
“You’re welcome.”
“Honestly, this is the first hot meal we’ve had in two days.”
“Where did you guys come from?”
Alice hesitated, running her eyes over his face before continuing.
“Up north in Woodland Mills.”
“Was it…bad up there?”
Alice shot a glance at Ty who had finished his meal and was holding the bowl politely in his lap, listening to the conversation. Alice gave a small shake of her head. Quinn rose and crossed the room.
“All done with your stew, Ty?”
“Yes, thank you. It was really good.”
“You’re welcome.”
Quinn retrieved Alice’s bowl as well and brought them to the kitchen, setting them in the sink. He flipped the water on and shook his head when nothing came out of the faucet. He made a circuit of the house in the darkness, opting not to bring the flashlight. In his father’s office, he moved to the window facing the drive. The night was a blanket beyond the glass, the sky without the faintest hint of starshine. He waited, peering into the dark. There was no movement, no tall, pale shapes striding through the layers of shadow, but that didn’t mean nothing looked back at him, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike.
There was a sliding rasp behind him and he spun, grabbing for the XDM.
Alice stood in the doorway, her hands raised before her.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
He let the burning air escape his lungs and released the gun’s grip.
“It’s okay. I’m jumpy.”
“I don’t blame you. Must’ve been creepy here by yourself.”
“It’s my home.”
“Really big place. Was your dad rich or something?”
Quinn moved to the large desk and touched the dragon paperweight, only a shape in the dark.
“You could say that.”
The silence stretched between them and broke when Alice motioned toward the living room.
“He’s asleep. I made him a bed on the couch. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. There’s an inflatable mattress upstairs. I’ll go get it for you.”
“Actually some blankets and a pillow would work. I don’t need a mattress.”
“Are you sure?”