Chapter Sixteen

When I woke up for real, it was hours later. I could tell by the feel of the night. It hadn't been only a happy dream. I really was on a bed in a large room. There was a ceiling fan, and it was rotating in a lazy circle. I was glad of the cool air moving over me. I glanced to the right, to see a dark window. It felt like past midnight. Eli was lying beside me, sound asleep. The bed was so big we weren't even touching. His nose was pointed straight up at the ceiling. He was breathing so quietly that I put my hand on his chest to make sure it was rising and falling. His eyes opened and slewed toward me. "You lived," he said with groggy relief. "You kill that guy?" "I finished what you started." "What did you do with him?" "Left him where he lay. No choice. We had to get out of there." I thought this over. "I don't remember much after that. How did you get me here?" I asked, because I couldn't imagine. "Hell if I know. I had bag straps hanging all over me, and I hooked my hands under your arms and just started dragging. I didn't stop for anything, and I couldn't focus on my magic anymore, and I think people were asking me questions. I just said I didn't speak Spanish, that we'd been attacked by a grigori for no reason. They were glad to believe that. Some of them offered to help me carry you. I said no thanks." "Nice of them," I said, finding I wasn't sure if I was awake or dreaming. "It was. But inconvenient. I told them we were close to home, and our mother would be very angry if we asked others for help. Eventually we were on a halfway-lit street, and the first hotel I came to—this one—I told them you were dead drunk and asked them if I could get a room where you could sleep it off. It's a pretty fancy place, but when I showed them the money, the bellboy and the desk clerk agreed to accept us, since they had an empty room. They took extra money in case you puked, but the desk guy helped me get you up the stairs. Then I got him to forget what we looked like. Magic, not money." That was a lot of talk for Eli. "What did he do to me? The grigori?" "A stunning spell. He didn't want to kill you, or maybe it was me he was aiming for. How did it feel?" he asked with professional interest. "Giant hammer." "Lucky it didn't strike you over your heart. It would have stopped it beating, whether he meant to kill you or not." "Yeah. I'm really lucky." He moved a little. I could hear his hair dragging along his pillow. "I feel you are being sarcastic." He sounded almost playful. "You're real smart." "Very sarcastic." "What do you intend to do?" I was tired of dreading the question. "Intend to do? I intend to help you to get us out of Mexico. I hope I never come back here." That hadn't been the question I was asking, but I would go with it. "But the bad stuff has been due to the people after you, and they could be anywhere." "You're right. You're nearly always right," he said. He didn't sound happy about it. "I should have told you about my father. I didn't like Paulina, and she didn't like me. She would have hauled me off to Holy Russia without a second thought. And taken all my blood." "That's what you thought she would do." He didn't seem shocked or angry, though. "I sure did." "I think you're right." It was a big admission. "So, what about you? You going to tell your wizard buddies about my blood?" I should have been ready to kill him, but instead I only felt tired. "I am not Paulina. But I know my duty. You're sure you are the daughter of Oleg Karkarov?" "I'm sure. That's why I killed him." It was oddly cozy, talking (finally) frankly to Eli in the quiet of the dim, twilit room. Theceiling fan was making the open curtains ripple. "You shot your own father." "He raped my mother and left her to raise me on her own." "Did he ever know she was pregnant?" Eli said. "Why would he care? He raped her. A ten-minute relationship." Eli rolled to his side to look at me. "I don't know how to feel about you." "I've saved your life about ten times." I was arguing my own case. But without a lot of passion. "I did lie to you." I would have shrugged, but lying down, that just felt strange. "True." "You've saved my life maybe three times? And you lied to me, too." "Also true. Wait, how have I lied to you?" Eli had the gall to sound indignant. "You knew there were people who didn't want you to find the blood the tsar needs, people who don't want him on the throne." I looked up at the fan, just able to make out the shape of the blades. The city was quieter, but it was not completely asleep. Somewhere blocks away, a band was making music. "A group that backs this Grand Duke Alexander. And they're passionate about thinking he'd be better for the job than Alexei, because he has a guaranteed backup in his legitimate son, who already has a male heir." "It didn't seem necessary to draw you into our politics." "Didn't seem necessary to draw you into my personal life." "You have a point?" he asked. Not sharp, but curious. "Yeah. I want to take off my clothes and kiss you." "I have no problem with that. At all." And he began taking off his clothes first. "That's why I wanted to find a hotel." "Give me a minute to feel clean." I wasn't going to kiss anyone feeling this grimy and nasty. Eli had already removed my boots and socks. I got up and struggled out of the damn skirt and blouse and my underwear. "Look," Eli said, and pointed. "Open that door." I did, because I wanted to see what had made him smile. I looked back at him lying on the bed. "Oh, Eli . . . that's amazing." We had our own bathroom. No going out in the hall. There was a shower, a toilet, and a sink. Everything! I turned on the water after a careful examination of the handles, and in no time I was under a torrent of water. It was blissful, and I was clean in two minutes. "Leave the water running," Eli called. I stepped out and began toweling, and he came in naked to take my place under the water. Eli, dressed, was flat-faced and hard and gawky. Eli naked was a god with broad shoulders, a neat patch of hair between his nipples and one around his dick, and muscular thighs and arms. He had a fine ass, too. I thought my mouth would water. Three minutes later a damp Eli slid into the bed beside me, very ready. I'd seen a nitwit use gasoline to set a fire, and I'd been impressed by the result. That was what touching Eli was like. Despite our battered condition and our wounds and our weariness, this was what we were supposed to be doing. He had a few rubbers, which just proved men were natural optimists when it came to opportunity. Hey, I'm going down into Mexico with my big-sister grigori, and we're traveling through hick towns on a desperate secret mission. I may get killed. But who knows? I might also have a chance to have sex. I'd had sex with two other men. This was nothing like that, like them. Galilee had told me the way sex should be: all in, shameless, demanding and giving. This was all that . . . and it was with Eli. The combination set me off like a shotgun. I have always been a quiet person, but I was not this night, and neither was Eli. After an hour we were asleep before we'd pulled the cover up all the way. Eli woke me up a couple of hours later, and we did it again, slowly. I climbed on top; I am short, and it was like riding a horse, a bit. I had to bite my lips to keep quiet. He made a sound so primal I thought he'd sprout hair all over. When we finally got moving around noon the next day, I was saddlesore but happy. And more relaxed than I'd been in . . . forever. Every time I looked at Eli, I thought of how he'd been in bed. How we'd been together. It was sad that we had more important things to do. While Eli dressed, I thought about the day ahead of us, or what remained of it. It was just barely possible my uncle and my tough little cousin would send someone after us for revenge, but I doubted it. Felicia was too little, Sergei was too afraid, and they were too poor. If I were them, I'd just be glad I was gone. Sergei might decide he'd try to sell the girl to me, persuade her she'd have a great adventure in the Holy Russian Empire. That would be more in character. But Felicia seemed pretty damn stubborn. I wasn't worried about dealing with them, if we did. Our real danger lay in the other camp of grigoris. If there were any left, and I hoped there weren't, they'd be searching Juárez for us now. Maybe, before we killed him, the head guy had already called for reinforcements. After all, the rate of attrition was high. And we hadn't traced them to Belinda Trotter, whose role in this I surely didn't understand. Eli glanced at me out of the corner of his eye as he pulled on his pants. I thought he felt a little shy. That was kind of funny, because he'd seen me upside, downside, and from every angle. "Did you know the circumstances of your birth all along?" Eli asked. That was the last thing I'd expected to hear. "Pretty much, because other people were always pointing it out to me." Eli looked shocked. "Yeah, kind, huh? So I learned pretty early what 'bastard' meant, and even 'half-breed.' But my grandparents held their heads up, my mom became a teacher and held her head up, and I learned to hold my head up, too. And when I grew up, I took care of the problem." Eli shook his head, his long hair sliding along his shoulders. It looked good, and I had to yank my mind back to the conversation. "Did you ever think about talking to him, asking him . . . anything? For example, if he'd known about you?" "No," I said honestly. "I never did. My mom would have told me if she'd let him know she had a bun in the oven." If there was one person in the world I trusted, it was my mother. "It is a wonder you could stand to do all this," he said, kind of waving his hand at the bed, "with a wizard. After that." "I think it's pretty amazing myself. But at the moment it was what we needed to do. Right?" "Yes, very much." Eli turned away to tie his boots, but he was smiling. He seemed more at ease. It came to me that Eli had felt uncomfortable because he'd been so personal with me . . . and yet he didn't know me very well. So he'd felt obliged to learn my life's history. I'd thought he already knew most of it. It wasn't like there'd been a lot. I didn't feel the same obligation to read the book of Eli. I had been learning Eli the whole trip. I didn't need to know his favorite color. I did need to know if I could trust him. Knowing what his dick looked like did not change that. By the time we'd repacked, and I'd put on the skirt again—it looked surprisingly clean, and I'd traded the blood-speckled blouse for one of my shirts—we needed to eat. The desk clerk was surprised to see us walk out the door, since Eli had made him to forget us. But he was a practical man, and distinctly relieved that we looked respectable—if mismatched. Eli told him we were keeping the room another night and paid up front. And then Eli spelled him to forget what we looked like. In the street we looked around carefully. Eli finally seemed as alert as I could ever wish. He even remembered to check the roofline. It was a relief to notice Eli was not the only tall, fair person in the vicinity. We were at the edge of as well-to-do an area as this city could boast. Here, at least, Ciudad Juárez had a sizeable mixed population of Anglos and Mexicans. The sun hadn't yet reached scorch level, so people were still moving at a fairly brisk pace. There was an open-air restaurant on the next corner, canvas stretched between poles to form an awning, with the kitchen at the rear. We sat at a free table right by the kitchen so we'd be less visible. There was a gun in my lap, hidden by the table. I carried what could pass for a woman's handbag, and it was open, with my favorite knife hilt-up. The waiter appeared promptly, not blinking an eye at us, and we ordered everything we could think of. The orange juice was wonderful, and I got a second glass. We had eggs and toast and bacon. It was as peaceful a meal as any I'd eaten with Eli. It was also no place to talk about anything important. We concentrated on the food and on keeping a lookout. This must be what deer felt like, I thought, when they were drinking at a stream. When our plates were clean, we were still alive. Just in case someone had spotted us eating, I stepped out into the open first. I had to shove Eli back. Apparently, now that we were bed buddies, he felt he should take the risks. I shook my head, trying not to look angry. "My job," I said, and he let me take the lead. We also got back to the hotel without dying. It was going to be that kind of day. Brushed my teeth, didn't die. Stepped outside, didn't get shot. Ate breakfast, didn't get poisoned. Got in our hotel, nobody waiting. We were in the hotel room, the door shut, as private as we were going to get, before I took a deep breath. Now that we were back at the scene of our mutual crime, Eli was having trouble starting the conversation. He didn't know whether to suggest another go-round, whether to pretend it hadn't happened, or whether to tell me how much he respected me. I was not so conflicted. I wanted to get out of this place. "Do you want to try to buy another car or do you want to catch the train?" I asked. Eli relaxed visibly. I don't know if he'd expected me to drop to a knee and propose, or what. I wouldn't have minded having a day with only fun stuff to do. We could have sex (more). I could braid his hair. I could find a dress to wear that was actually pretty. I could wash my clothes. Eli could charge his magical batteries, or whatever grigoris did to refresh themselves. But that wasn't going to happen, because I didn't think we had the time. Getting out of Ciudad Juárez alive was more important.