“Zero zombies inside!” Kip emerged from Wall One, immediately followed by Hugh. “I could’ve been eating the whole damn time if it weren’t for our mini-despot demon.”
Lorrie shook her head. “Such injustice.”
Hugh’s impassive expression didn’t change, but Gwen would’ve bet the scant balance of her checking account that he was resisting a heartfelt eye roll. He and his companion reached the quilt and halted at its edge, surveying the people—beings—and items arrayed upon the fabric. Hugh’s shoulders dropped a fraction at whatever he’d spotted, while gathering outrage clouded Kip’s broad brow.
“Hey.” The troll scowled at Lorrie. “What the—”
“A thousand apologies, my good cousin.” Lorrie held up a prettily spiraling tan-and-white shell, which she’d recently emptied with her tiny silver fork. “If only I’d remembered to save you some of the delicious garlic-herb-buttered escargot I just finished eating. Alas.”
When Kip stamped his sizable foot, birds in the surrounding trees twittered and took flight. “You knew I was saving those snails as a special post-dealing-with-mini-demon-and-the-stick-up-his-tiny-ass treat!”
Hugh’s brows beetled, and he peered over his shoulder at his own backside. Instead of reassuring him as to his butt’s perfection and very alluring—albeit subtle—curves, Gwen rolled her lips between her teeth and bit down hard.
Lorrie grinned at her fuming cousin and curled her fingertips inward in a beckoning taunt. “Come at me, bro.”
As Kip screeched and launched himself toward Lorrie, Gwen and Sabrina quickly exited the blanket and fled to a safer location.
Hugh followed the two women to the tree line. “Inside the wall, neither Kip nor I spotted any additional signs of Supernatural culpability in the breach. Unless there’s video footage from the compound’s interior, I think we’re set in there. You two took care of the physical evidence on the guards?”
“Sabrina did,” Gwen corrected. “I rested, and then she treated me. See?” She held up her hands, palms out, then extended her legs one at a time. “No more bleeding.”
Hugh nodded, satisfaction softening the harsh line of his mouth. “Good.”
“I healed all the burn marks on the guards, as well as the bruising around their wrists and ankles, but we obviously still have to deal with the s—” Sabrina cut herself off, her expression turning distant. “I think Starla’s trying to talk to me.”
Her brows snapped together, and she sucked in a huge breath and fell silent.
Worry prickling her skin, Gwen quietly explained thesituation to Hugh. “Sabrina’s wife, Starla, is an Enhanced human telepath.”
Star was also extremely ill and homebound, so she wouldn’t voluntarily expend the energy required for long-distance communication unless the situation was dire.
Sabrina’s coppery-brown skin paled, and she swiveled abruptly to face Hugh and Gwen. Still listening to her wife, she stabbed a finger in the air and mouthed something Gwen couldn’t make out.
Apparently Hugh understood it, though, because he immediately strode over to the trolls and got them separated in an instant. He and Kip appeared to be having an intense conversation of some sort. Hugh kept shaking his head while the troll nodded insistently.
In the distance, a low rumble began vibrating through the air, growing louder by the moment. More birds flew away.
“Military helicopters are on the way.” Sabrina’s dark eyes blazed with urgency. “At least three of them, according to Starla. I’m sorry, but I have to go. She crossed into Zone A so I could hear her, and she can’t make it back home alone. She’s not fit to drive.”
“Go,” Gwen told her friend despite her utter confusion and anxiety. “Take care of your wife. It’s better if the authorities don’t know your identity anyway.”
Lorrie reappeared at Gwen’s side, quickly followed by Hugh and Kip.
“Sabby needs to leave.” Gwen slung her tote bag over her shoulder and braced herself for whatever came next. “Should all of us go with her?”
Grim determination weighted Hugh’s words. “Kip and I needto disguise the last clear indication of demonic involvement. Afterward, I’ll stay to control the official narrative and make sure we didn’t miss any other planted evidence. But you and Lorrie can go.”
“Mini-oracle’s absence would undercut our story,” Kip pointed out.
Gwen didn’t understand—what indication? what story?—but there was no time to ask.
“I have to leave.” Sabrina glanced quickly at her car, keys already in her hand. “If you’re coming with me, come now.”
Fleeing would feel like the rankest form of cowardice. Especially since Gwen’s continued presence would apparently be helpful for reasons she didn’t yet comprehend.
“I’m staying,” she told everyone.
Hugh’s jaw worked, but he didn’t argue.
