by Arnie
Once he'd finally stopped shivering, Blair leaned his head against the back of his seat and debated what the hell he was going to do now.
All the aces were in Alex's hand. She had a lot more money than he did, and her hired musclemen meant that if she got anywhere near him, she'd have no trouble in keeping hold of him. Whereas he...he had just over forty dollars and his ingenuity to keep him going. With Alex on his tail, he couldn't go home, he couldn't go to Rainier and he couldn't get to his car.
He also had his Guide-strength empathy.
Of course, that was part of the problem. If he hadn't been a Guide, Alex wouldn't have been interested in him. But if he could find a stronger Sentinel, someone to protect him, she wouldn't be able to bond with him. For a moment, he indulged himself in his daydreams, allowing himself to imagine the strong Sentinel who'd be his, all his, and who'd defend him from psychos like Alex.
Then reality came crashing back in. The only result any bonding he took part in would have was his Sentinel's death. Alex was not the type to give up easily, and 'fair play' was an ideal that other people strived for, most certainly not one an international weapons trafficker like Alex believed in.
If Blair bonded to anyone and Alex found out, his Sentinel's days could be counted on the fingers of one hand.
Which left him exactly where he was now: alone, nearly broke, with only himself to rely on.
"You finished?"
Jarred out of his reverie, Blair blinked up at the tired-looking waitress. Draining his cup, he handed it to her. "I am now. Thanks." Making his way to the exit, he huddled his coat around him before pushing open the door and stepping out into the cold, wet night.
It was late. It was time he found somewhere to sleep.
~'~
"C'mon, Benny, don't do this to me." Jim made sure to keep his voice light, fully in keeping with the persona he'd adopted while undercover.
"I'm tellin' ya, Cyrus, they think somethin's fishy, an' so do I." Benny's hand, the one with the gun in it, trembled.
"Haven't I been looking after you? Who realised when you were sick and got you to a doctor in time?" If Jim couldn't talk Benny down, it'd blow the whole operation - to say nothing of what a bullet would do to Jim personally.
The hand trembled even more, and Jim kept part of his attention on it. The way Benny's hand was shaking, if that gun had a light trigger, it wouldn't take much more to set it off.
Benny licked his lips nervously. "That's - that's 'cause you're a Sentinel. I should've listened to my instincts. I knew there was somethin' wrong with ya the minute I saw ya. Sentinels don't deal in drugs."
Jim shrugged. "You need to stop listening to the propaganda, Benny. We're human, like everyone else. Just because some do-gooder Sentinels choose to act like Supermen, doesn't mean the rest of us aren't going to look after number one. Drugs bring in the money, so drugs are what I deal in."
"So...so...what about that guy today? The one who said you're a cop? How ya gonna explain that one away, huh?"
"I was a cop...until they caught me dealing under the table. Cops don't like it when you tip the bad guys off that there's going to be a raid." Jim smiled at Benny. "So, now I work for the bad guys all the time."
The trembling calmed slightly. "You're not shittin' me?"
"Benny, think about it. If I were a cop, would I have wasted that cop on the docks? Even for the sake of being undercover, cops try not to kill each other. It looks bad on the report afterwards." And if Rafe hadn't been wearing his Kevlar, Jim would have tracked him down in the afterlife and kicked his ass for him.
"Yeah." Benny took a few deep breaths. "Yeah. Ya shot that cop. Ya saved my life."
"That's right, Benny. I saved your life."
"Yeah." A grin, partially filled with badly stained teeth, was flashed at him. "Shit. I'm sorry, Cyrus, I - I just...ya just know too much about cops."
"I do know too much about cops. That's how I stay ahead of them all the time." Jim smiled back at Benny, watching the tension slowly drain away. He'd convinced him, for now. But the sooner they caught up with the suppliers behind this drug ring, the better. And if the others were getting suspicious... Jim made sure that none of his unease was showing but, the sooner this charade was brought to an end, the happier he'd be. As Benny's gun moved to point to the floor, Jim stepped forward and slipped it out of his hand. "Benny, how about you don't play with guns when you're playing with the merchandise?"
Benny wiped at his forehead, removing some of the sweat that had gathered. "Yeah. Stupid mistake." He flashed another grin that was singularly lacking in charm. "The guys'd be pissed if I blew away our contact, huh?"
"Not to mention that I wouldn't be too happy myself," Jim pointed out. It wasn't just for his own sake that Jim was giving Benny a warning; the addict was becoming a liability, and Matthews, Benny's boss, didn't like liabilities. Even Benny being Matthews' cousin wouldn't save his life if the boss made an executive decision to 'downsize' him.
"Hey, Cyrus, this bum with you?"
Jim turned to stare at the damp figure Henderson was shaking.
"Look, man, I was just trying to find somewhere to get out of the rain."
As Jim paced towards him, the kid, the Guide, continued to talk.
"But if you guys are hanging out here, that's cool. I'll find somewhere else."
Inhaling, Jim realised that the kid wasn't as homeless as he was pretending but that didn't matter right now as the glorious scent of his unbonded Guide called to him. Stretching out his hand, he grabbed the kid's collar, and growled at Henderson until the dimwit realised and let go.
As Jim shoved Benny's gun at Henderson and pulled his Guide forward, the scent of fear increased, and the kid's voice rose a couple of tones. "Hey, man, I - I don't mind moving on; I'm not that keen on warehouses anyway!"
"I didn't know ya were bonded!" Benny came ambling up beside them. "Ya never said -"
Jim turned his head and growled at him, and Benny seemed to catch on.
"Oh, you're not." His foul grin appeared again. "Hey, Henderson," he slapped the heavily-muscled guy on the arm, apparently not noticing the glare of anger he got in reply, "ya just found Cyrus' Guide for 'im."
As the figure tucked into Jim's side stiffened, Henderson's small, beady eyes stared at them for a moment, then, "Just make sure to keep him out of our way and away from the stuff." Grabbing Benny by the scruff of his neck, he hauled him towards the door.
"Aww, I wanted to stay an' watch!"
"I told you not to bug Cyrus, Benny. He's one of us - he proved that when he wasted that cop. But right now, he's a Sentinel with a Guide. We're better off out the way." The door banged as Henderson kicked it open. "Now stop whining."
Jim continued to listen carefully until he heard Henderson throw Benny into the truck and drive off, then he turned his attention back to his Guide. "What's your name, Chief?" As the kid shook his head, and tried to wriggle free, Jim added, keeping his voice quietly reassuring, "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
"I know that, man!" The shaking in the kid's voice suggested otherwise. "You're a Sentinel."
"That's right. And you're a Guide."
"Look, I was just looking for somewhere to stay, okay? I'm not looking to bond, so just back off!"
As the kid tried to break free, Jim tightened his grasp around his Guide's waist. "Just keep calm, Chief. I'd take good care of you. You wouldn't have to worry about the likes of Henderson." It was just Jim's luck that he had to find his Guide while he was undercover. If the kid had any kind of moral code, he'd turn Jim down flat, and the Sentinel couldn't accept that.
~'~
Blair wasn't normally superstitious, but he was beginning to think he'd broken a few mirrors and stepped on some black cats while walking under ladders. His luck wasn't normally this bad.
Okay, if he were honest, this guy, Cyrus, being a Sentinel was fortunate...sort of. If he hadn't been, Blair suspected he'd be floating face down in the harbour by now. On the other hand, the Sentinel was now refusing to let Blair go. And, while the thought of a big, Blair glanced up, really big and well-muscled, over-protective Sentinel was appealing, unless Blair was mistaken, the guy was a drug dealer.
"You're making a mistake, man!" Blair pushed harder, struggling to break away from the tight hold, then he relaxed slightly as Cyrus loosened his grip around Blair's waist, and let him back off a step or two.
"And how's that, Chief?"
"I've already got one psycho Sentinel after me, and compared to her, you're small potatoes."
As fury tightened the face of the Sentinel in front of him, Blair stepped back again, holding up his hands placatingly. "Hey, I'm sure in drug dealing circles, you're the man to go to, but she's a gun runner. I think you're a little out of your league here."
A sudden gleam of amusement appeared in Cyrus' blue eyes. "You think I'm out-ranked by some two-bit gun runner?"
"Well...." Blair wondered how exactly to put this. Somehow, gun running seemed a step up from drug pushing, but he was quite sure the drug dealer in front of him would take offence at that notion.
"Save it, Chief." A heavy hand latched onto his arm. "You need a place to stay, I've got a place to stay. You're a Guide," a feral smile lit up the man's face, "I'm a Sentinel. Seems like a match made in heaven to me."
As Blair was pulled forward, he hit out, rabbit-punching Cyrus in the ribs, and stamping on his foot. Twisting free, he fled towards the doorway, throwing himself through it and running out into the rain.
The thin drizzle that had caused him to duck inside the warehouse earlier had worsened into a steady downpour that was making it difficult to see. Nevertheless, Blair continued, blinking to try to clear his vision as he ran blindly into the night.
Pounding footsteps behind him warned him that the Sentinel was closing in on him, and he tried to speed up, then cried out as his foot caught on something and he fell. Ignoring the throbbing in his ankle and the stinging in his palms, Blair began to push himself upright, then he yelled out as strong hands lifted him.
"Calm down, Chief, I'm not going to hurt you."
With Cyrus' arm clamped around his waist and his back held tightly against Cyrus' chest, Blair's feet were barely touching the ground, so it seemed to be an easy matter for the Sentinel to carry him off. They came to a halt, and Blair realised that he could see the rain pinging off the roof of a truck of some kind. His indignation rose as the Sentinel held him in place with one arm and unlocked the door. He managed to slap the door half-shut once, but Cyrus merely twisted to one side and yanked the door back open, before turning back and swinging Blair into the passenger seat.
"Knock it off, Chief - I won't tell you again!" And the door slammed shut.
In the midst of his annoyance, Blair was mildly pleased to note that Cyrus had sounded a bit breathless; at least it wasn't as easy to kidnap Blair as the Sentinel was making it seem.
Glaring through the window at Cyrus, Blair bided his time. If Cyrus wanted to get in the truck, he'd have to move away from the door and, when he did, Blair planned on getting out of there. Assuming his ankle would hold up, that was. He winced as he wriggled his foot slightly, feeling his ankle protest the movement. He just hoped it would bear his weight; he doubted he'd get far if he had to hop his way to freedom.
The rain was lessening now and he could see that Cyrus was making a phone call. Great. With Blair's luck, he was probably calling for reinforcements.
~'~
Turning his collar up to keep his neck warm against the wind, Jim leaned against the truck door and waited. Edwards was on his way and, once he was here, he could take charge of Jim's Guide until this operation was over. If the damn kid hadn't made a break for it and, from the looks of things, damaged his ankle, Jim would have been able to phone Edwards from inside the warehouse - and they both could have stayed dry until the Sentinel Prime arrived. Then again, if the kid hadn't hurt his ankle, Jim would have given in to his Sentinel side and taken his Guide to his place to bond. But, with his Guide incapacitated, there was no way Jim could risk having him around Matthews and his cronies.
On the plus side, that damaged ankle would make it easier for Edwards to keep hold of the kid until Jim could bring this suddenly-inconvenient undercover op to an end.
Jim wiped the wet from his face, ignoring the rain that instantly took its place. Did he have good timing, or what?
The sound of an engine caught his attention and he turned, staring through the rain. The headlights of the approaching car switched off, and then the car slid to a halt.
The driver's door opened and shut, the inside light illuminating Edwards' Guide for a brief moment, and a dark figure approached. "Nice night for it," Edwards said, conversationally.
Jim could see the smirk on the Sentinel Prime's face. "Last I heard, controlling the weather wasn't one of my duties." Stepping away from the truck door, he swung it open. "Your ride's here, Chief."
"What?!"
"Relax. Edwards is a friend of mine; he's going to look after you until I'm finished here." Reaching in, Jim slid his arms around his Guide and hauled him out, the kid fighting him every inch of the way.
"Do you need a hand, S -" Edwards paused, then continued, "Cyrus?"
"Just grab the door." Ignoring the kid's struggles and protests, Jim got him over to Edwards' car and managed to get him in the back seat, sliding half in himself so he could talk to his Guide. Grabbing the kid's chin, he held the face still until he got his attention. "Edwards is a good guy. He won't let anything happen to you, and he'll explain everything. Okay?"
His Guide's frantic breathing finally slowed, and he nodded.
"Good." Jim was positive the kid was only playing along, but Edwards would keep hold of him. Getting out, he turned to his second-in-command and ordered, "Don't lose him."
Edwards bowed his head.
"He said there's another Sentinel after him - a gun runner. See what you can find out. And he tripped and fell. I think he hurt his ankle and probably his hands too."
"I'll check him over."
"Thanks." Jim leaned back into the car and fastened his Guide's seatbelt. "Be good, Chief." He gave a nod to David, then shut the door and backed off as Edwards got in, hit the central-locking, and started the engine.
Letting Edwards take his Guide away was one of the hardest things Jim had ever done, but the only way to keep the kid safe was to keep him well out of the way until after this damned operation was over.
~'~
The warmth of the car reached him, and Blair shivered suddenly, somehow more aware of how his damp clothes were clinging. He hated being cold and he hated being wet and, right now, he was both.
The Guide in the front passenger seat turned and, Blair thought, though he couldn't be sure, smiled at him. However, there was no mistaking the warm friendliness he was picking up from the other Guide.
"Hi! I'm David, this is my Sentinel, Neds."
Friendly was right; it was bubbling up in the guy's tone. "Hi," Blair replied, warily. They were friends of the drug dealing Cyrus, therefore they weren't friends of his. Or law-abiding either, if it came to that.
"What's your name?"
Blair debated internally whether or not to answer that, then finally shrugged. What did it matter anyway? "Blair."
"As soon as we get home, you can get changed. You must be soaked."
"Uh...yeah." Just a bit. "Th-that'd be good, thanks."
"It won't be long now."
True to David's word, it was only a few minutes later that Edwards pulled into an underground garage.
The engine went quiet, and Edwards clicked on the inside light, then turned in his seat to look at Blair. As the Sentinel seemed to consider him, Blair shrank back in his seat, wondering if this was when he found out it was all some kind of trick and Cyrus wanted Edwards to dispose of the body. If the door hadn't been locked, he would have taken his chances with his ankle and made a break for it.
"I'll explain everything later," Edwards told Blair, "but, for now, you need to know one thing." He held out his hand, a police badge clasped firmly in it. "I'm a cop."
Blair stared at the badge, his mind going in circles. How the hell could this guy be a cop? Cyrus was a drug dealer and Edwards was his friend -
"I'm not a dirty cop, Blair. You're safe. Nothing's going to happen to you."
"What - how -"
"I'll explain everything later. For now, let's get you upstairs."
His mind still whirling with a dozen unanswered questions, Blair didn't even bother protesting as Edwards helped him out of the car and along towards the elevator. His ankle was still hurting, and the brief moment when he'd rested it on the ground had convinced him that walking on it would be painful and slow going. To make it worse, the coldness of the garage was reminding him of exactly how cold and damp he was, and he'd started shivering again. With a flash of annoyance, he suspected that it must look as though they were bringing home a stray.
As the doors to the elevator slid open, Edwards told him, "You'll feel better once you've had a bath and warmed up."
Blair glanced up into the concerned brown eyes, and then down, feeling a flush cover his face. Once they were inside, he leaned away from them against the wall, wrapping his arms around himself, and gritting his teeth to stop them from chattering.
A few floors up and the elevator doors opened, exposing a lushly carpeted hallway that gave a hint as to how expensive these apartments were. Blair almost felt guilty for dripping on the carpet but he shrugged it off. He hadn't asked them to bring him here.
David unlocked a door, and Blair's estimate of the monthly rent rose as he saw the size of the place. The feeling of heated air on his face was bliss though, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment to focus on the luxurious feeling.
A few minutes later, he was standing in a warm bathroom. Once he had his balance, Edwards let go of him, leaned over to put the plug in the bath, and turned the hot water on. Reaching out, Blair touched the towel rail. It was heated, and the towels that were waiting were thoroughly warmed.
"There's plenty of hot water."
Blair's attention jerked back to the Sentinel in front of him, and he gulped, subconsciously pressing himself against the wall. Cop or not, he still didn't know this guy.
"If you sit on the edge of the bath and slide in, you should be able to manage by yourself, but David and I will be right through there if you need any help." Edwards' voice was calm, although Blair knew he'd picked up on his sudden panic. "I'll get you something to wear afterwards - something of David's should fit you well enough."
"O-okay." He watched the Sentinel go, and pressed himself closer to the towel rail, sliding his hands underneath the hot towels to lightly touch the rail itself. A knock at the door warned him the Sentinel was back, and he turned and put his back to the wall again as Edwards came in, a pile of clothing in his arms.
Dropping the clothes on the lid of the laundry hamper, Edwards gave him a smile. "Why don't you take a seat and I'll check your hands and ankle before you have a bath?" As Blair paused, uncertainly, he added, "Come on. It'll be easier for me to get that sneaker off without hurting you."
Reluctantly, Blair hopped over and sat down. He could tell the Sentinel and Guide didn't have any bad intentions towards him, but they were associating with a drug dealer, so how trustworthy could they possibly be? And how could Edwards be a cop and be friends with a drug dealer if he weren't a dirty cop?!
"Just relax." There was a hint of a chiding tone in the voice. "We're not going to hurt you."
Blair gazed doubtfully at the top of Edwards' head as his hands were examined, one finger trailing gently over the grit that was embedded in his palms.
"All that should come out while you're soaking. If it doesn't, I'll get the rest out. They'll be fine, though. Okay, let's see your ankle." His sneaker was unlaced and carefully worked off his foot, the sock following it a few seconds later. "Your feet are freezing," Edwards informed him.
"Yeah." Blair had known that. "It's cold outside." He winced as the ankle was gently manipulated.
"Sorry." Edwards got to his feet. "It's slightly sprained but there's nothing broken, and the tendons seem to be fine. If you keep off it for the next couple of days, it should be okay to walk on by Friday, although I'll strap it up to give it some support." As Blair opened his mouth to contest the assumption that he'd even be here on Friday, Edwards added, "Remember, just give a shout if you need anything." There was a friendly pat to his shoulder, and then the door closed behind the Sentinel.
Blair eyed the back of the door nervously; there wasn't any way to lock it. His gaze moved from the door to the bath. The steam that was rising was alluring, and the temptation to be really clean again was too much to resist. Firmly reminding himself that the guy was a cop and he really hadn't picked up on any other intentions from him - and some were easier to pick up than others - Blair turned on the cold tap and started stripping off.
As soon as the bath was at the right temperature, he turned off the taps then hopped to the end. Getting in posed a very minor problem, and he really didn't want to think about the mess he would probably create getting out but, as he slid into the wonderfully warm water and felt his skin goose bump in reaction, he didn't care. He was warm.
~'~
Edwards shut the bathroom door behind him and held a finger to his lips to quiet the multitude of questions David had ready for him. Wrapping an arm around his Guide's shoulders, he steered him to the couch and sat him down.
"Well, what's up?" Edwards kept his voice quiet and knew David would do the same.
"Did Sentinel Ellison say why we can't tell anyone he's here?"
Edwards nodded. "Apparently, there's another Sentinel who's chasing him."
David shook his head. "I don't understand why that's a problem. Sentinel Ellison's the Senior Sentinel Prime of Cascade!"
"The other Sentinel is an international gun runner." As David's jaw dropped, Edwards could practically see the questions forming on the edge of his tongue. "I don't have any more details than that, David; we'll have to wait until Blair comes out. I should imagine that Ellison's worried about this other Sentinel finding out Blair's here, so we can't say a word about him to anyone."
David's eyes were as big as saucers, but he nodded. "I won't say anything." He frowned, a hint of distress colouring his scent and asked, "Do you think that's why he's homeless?"
"I don't think he's actually homeless but, if the other Sentinel knows where he lives, he won't be able to go home."
The frown deepened, as did the smell of David's unhappiness, as he snuggled closer to Edwards. "I'd hate to not be able to come home."
Edwards smiled and gave him a one-armed hug. "That'll never happen."
It was another twenty minutes before the quiet in the room was disrupted by the gurgling of the pipes as the bath began to empty. Lifting David from where he'd fallen asleep curled up against his side, Edwards laid him on the couch and tucked a cushion underneath his head. David would probably wake up once Blair was out of the bathroom.
Glancing at the clock, Edwards yawned and stretched, then headed towards the kitchen. He was positive Blair would appreciate a hot drink after his bath, and possibly something light to eat too.
~'~
Blair had expected to feel chilled once he got out of the bath, but the room was warm and the hot towels from the heated rail were bliss against his skin. He had definitely had enough of being cold.
Once he was dressed, he looked around the bathroom. If he had a choice, he'd really rather stay here than go out and face the Sentinel and Guide who were waiting for him. However, he didn't, so he opened the door and hopped out, his chin held high.
As he'd suspected would happen, the Sentinel was waiting for him.
"I'm just making some cocoa; would you like some?"
Blair nodded. "Great. Thanks, man."
"Good. Let's get you in the sitting room."
As Edwards moved to help him, Blair held up his hands hurriedly. "I can manage, thanks!"
There was a pause, then, "If you're sure."
"I'm sure." For a moment, Blair was positive that the Sentinel was going to sweep him off his feet and carry him into the sitting room, then he stepped back and gestured for Blair to precede him. Blair realised that that was all the concession he was going to get; obviously Edwards wasn't going to leave him alone in case he fell. He felt pretty stupid hopping, but his ankle wasn't up to walking and if it came down to a choice between hopping or being helped by the Sentinel, he'd take looking stupid any day of the week.
"Hey, you're out of the bathroom." David blinked sleepily at him over the back of the couch, then yawned widely.
Blair clenched his jaw as a massive yawn threatened to burst forth in return. When the urge was gone, he glanced at the clock and got a shock as he realised the time. Now that he was thoroughly warm, he could feel the tiredness creeping over him, and gazing at David, as the other Guide tried to wake himself up, wasn't helping. "I didn't realise it was so late. Sorry."
"Don't worry about it. David's an early bird."
Edwards' hand on his elbow urged him towards one of the armchairs, and Blair sank into the seat with a sigh of relief, then blushed as Edwards fetched a low footstool and propped his ankle up on it. He couldn't remember the last time someone tried to coddle him this much; even Naomi -
"Blair, do you want anything to eat?"
Blair blinked up at Edwards as his mind fuzzily worked out what he'd been asked. "I'm good, thanks."
Edwards smiled. "I'll finish making the cocoa then."
He was back a few minutes later to hand out steaming mugs of cocoa, then settled back with his own next to David.
Blair watched them over the edge of his mug as he sipped. He'd never had a chance to see a Sentinel and Guide 'at home', as it were, and his anthropological mind was curious - well, as much as it could be with the intense need for sleep that was tugging at him.
David, despite there being a stranger in their home, was leaning cosily against his Sentinel, his eyes at half-mast, and his mug resting on his knee.
"Blair?"
Dragging his eyes from the other Guide, Blair looked at Edwards. "Hmm?" He blinked as the sleepiness of his voice occurred to him, and opened his mouth to try again.
"I was going to explain everything tonight, but I think you're too tired to take it in. I'll explain in the morning, okay?"
Blair nodded, even that movement an effort.
"Okay." Edwards smiled, apparently finding Blair's tiredness amusing. "We changed the beds this morning, so you can sleep in David's room." Putting his own mug down, he removed the mug from David's lax hands and stood up, one hand keeping his Guide in place. "I'll just put sleepyhead to bed, then show you where it is."
"Okay."
Blair watched, his eyes sliding further shut, as the Sentinel shook David's shoulder, then gave up and lifted his Guide from the couch. David muttered something, then put his head on Edwards' shoulder.
"It's all right, David, go back to sleep."
As Edwards carried David out, Blair blinked, determinedly forcing himself into a more awake state. There was no way he was having Edwards carry him to bed, although he didn't doubt that the muscular Sentinel could do it. Putting the mug on the coffee table, he pushed himself into a standing position. He wouldn't fall asleep standing up.
If Edwards realised why Blair was standing when he returned, he didn't say a word, merely taking one of Blair's elbows in a firm grip and helping him down the hall. This time, Blair didn't bother protesting. If he'd tried to go anywhere on his own, he was positive he would have ended up flat on his face.
~'~
Jim threw back the covers and got out of bed, scratching at the back of his neck irritably. His nerves were stretched as taut as wire, and he knew why.
His Guide wasn't with him.
Annoyed at himself, the situation, and his Sentinel side, he kicked the bedside table then stalked off to shower.
If only the kid hadn't hurt his ankle, he could have had him here, safe at his side -
Jim shook his head. The kid was safer away from Matthews, Henderson and their kind, and while Jim's Sentinel side was severely tempted to abandon the operation and go storming off to Edwards' territory to reclaim his Guide, he was also aware that getting this pipeline of drugs shut down was necessary to help protect the tribe, and his Guide.
And the sooner the supply was shut down, the sooner the Sentinel could get his Guide.
As the warm water rained down on him, the drops seemed to beat out a mocking rhythm and Jim hurriedly pulled himself back from the edge of a zone.
Damn, he hadn't zoned on water since he was first fully online. Fortunately, the water in his hot water tank had run out, and the sudden icy shower had brought him back.
Slamming the water off, Jim grabbed the towel and quickly dried himself off, then threw his clothes on. First, he'd phone Edwards to see if his Sentinel Prime had discovered the kid's name, then he'd phone Simon to arrange a meeting. The sooner he updated the police captain on the situation, the better.
~'~
Edwards paused as he passed the door to David's room and listened. As he'd thought, Blair was still asleep. The kid had been dead on his feet by the time they'd reached the bedroom, and hadn't even reacted to having his hands checked over again before being tucked in.
Now all Edwards had to do was to phone personnel to tell them he wouldn't be in until next week and let Doctor Harvey know that if the Clan needed anything, he was at home.
Thinking of the Clan reminded him that he needed to question Blair about this other Sentinel, the gun runner. The Clan would protect their Senior Sentinel and Senior Guide Prime, but the sooner this other Sentinel was out of the picture, the better it would be for all concerned.
However, he'd have to get Blair to trust him first. Hopefully, explaining that Cyrus-the-drug-dealer was actually Detective Jim Ellison, Senior Sentinel Prime of the Cascade Clan, would go a long way to reassuring the kid that he truly was safe.