If Jack’s bravery was like a living thing inside him, Aric’s wisdom radiated from him.
Jack clearly didn’t know what to make of Death—an uncommon situation for the perceptive Cajun. Since Jack’s go-to response tended to be pure anger, with a side of action, I needed to defuse this.
“Look, guys, can we just secure the place? I’m exhausted.”
I must’ve sounded as tired as I was because Jack nodded. “Ouais. Come on, bébé.”
At the back of the laundry room was a door. A ring of keys hung from a wall peg beside it. They looked like old-timey jailor keys.
Jack raised his bow and flipped on all the light switches. “Stay back.”
Aric unsheathed one of his swords, tugging me behind him.
When Jack opened the door, fluorescent bulbs sparked to life in the freezing garage, illuminating the space.
I peeked around Aric. “Oh, my God. . . .”
28
“Must be twenty of them.” Jack lowered his bow.
Half-dressed men, all shivering.
Aric sheathed his sword. “They’re secured.” The prisoners had been shackled by the ankles to separate bolts.
“Secured?” I whispered. “Aren’t we going to free them?”
Both Jack and Aric shook their heads, then seemed annoyed that they’d agreed with each other.
“Just ’cause they got caught by slavers doan mean they’re innocent,” Jack said. “They could be rival slavers, murderers, rapists. They doan need to have filed teeth to be cannibals.”
Some of the men cast me unsettling stares. One ran his hand over his crotch as he ogled me. Ugh!
I’d so long equated shackled person with good person that I’d had a misguided impulse to help them.
A younger man among them told Jack, “I’m Rodrigo Vasquez. Franklin sent me a message, said I was supposed to meet you on the road.” The guy had dark hair even longer than Gabriel’s and deep brown eyes. Cute. And a friendly? “I got trapped instead.”
Jack snagged the key ring, then made his way to the prisoner. “You got something else to tell me?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Rodrigo rattled off a string of numbers and letters.
They had a code?
Jack unlocked him. “Go scavenge clothes and your gear. Radio your people. Tell them I’m ready to meet.” The co-conspirators. His plan was coming online!
That dream of him was still fresh in my mind. I’d wondered why Matthew had given me such a specific vision. Maybe it had something do with Jack becoming a leader, hinting about his future, of things to come.
No man could be more driven to make something of himself.
As Rodrigo eased past me and Aric into the house, he swallowed audibly.
Aric sighed. —You’d think after two thousand years, I’d be accustomed to looks of fear.—
To the rest of the men, Jack said, “We woan kill any of you, if you cooperate. Goan to ask you some questions.”
“You’re the hunter!” an emaciated man exclaimed. “From Cajun country. I’ve heard of you.”
Another guy said, “You killed a thousand Bagmen! With your bare hands.”
Jack was turning into a larger-than-life legend. He just needed a blue ox named Babe.
Instead of denying such a wild claim, Jack said, “I was bored that weekend, me.” He wasn’t a braggart by nature, but feeding this rumor was smart.
“You ride with those Arcana,” said another man.
By the time Jack locked the garage door and joined me and Aric in the living room, Rodrigo had returned, dressed, armed, and holding a two-way radio.
When Aric strode toward the fire, spurs clinking, Rodrigo stared after him with a blend of awe and fear.
Jack snapped his fingers at the man. “You heard anything?”
“Meeting’s tonight. They’re sending a truck here.” He stepped on one of the new carpet stains, and blood splashed up around his boot. “I’m heading outside to flag them down. ETA fifteen.”
Jack told him, “I’m bringing my girl with me.”