“Okay, okay,” Beth said soothingly. “I get it. You’re crazy busy and stressed out, and we fly down tonight and talk to the kid tomorrow. It’s fine. When do we fly back?”
Mortimer stared at her for a moment, looking a bit frustrated that she’d cut off his rant, but after a minute he blew out a long breath and muttered, “I managed to book the plane for the day after. Sunday at noon.” Standing, he nodded abruptly. “I think that is everything I needed to tell you, so I suppose you had best get to the plane. It has been waiting on the tarmac for the past half hour, and I would not put it past the bastards to fly off on their next assignment if you are not soon boarded.”
Nodding, Beth got reluctantly to her feet.
“Your luggage should all be on the plane by now, and the captain has an envelope with credit cards and a small amount of cash for each of you. Bastien sent it with him. He asked me to remind you to please keep all receipts.”
“Of course, Mortimer. Don’t worry. We’ll handle everything,” Beth assured him. It seemed she’d be working with Scotty a bit longer. Ah well, she could think of worse things than having to work with a six-foot-three sexy beast of a Scot. He might be annoying at times, but he was always pretty to look at.
Four
“I can’t sleep.”
Beth heard that complaint from Donny, but didn’t open her eyes. She was exhausted and had been dozing in her seat before Donny’s words had drawn her back from the edge of slumber. Besides, she didn’t think he was addressing her anyway, as was proven by his next words.
“I don’t know how Beth can sleep.”
“Exhaustion,” Scotty said softly. “She didn’t sleep at the house.”
Beth barely kept from blinking her eyes open with surprise. Not because he knew she hadn’t slept at the Enforcer house. She supposed Sam had told him that. She was surprised because his tone had almost been affectionate. Affection was not something she would’ve connected with Scotty’s attitude toward her. This was new and just plain confusing.
“She must’ve had an interesting life,” Donny commented, and then in a wry voice added, “You probably both have.”
“Aye,” Scotty said. “Living a long time tends to make fer at least a few interestin’ interludes.”
“Yeah, I suppose so,” Donny murmured, and then gave a soft chuckle and said, “Or maybe it’s being immortal. It’s certainly brought about some interesting events in my life.”
Scotty merely grunted at the comment, and silence reigned for a moment before Donny asked, “Do you ever wonder about them?”
“About who, lad?” Scotty asked mildly.
“The Atlanteans.”
“Not really,” Scotty said dismissively.
“I do,” Donny told him.
“And what do ye wonder about them?” Scotty asked indulgently.
“Well, what if Atlantis never fell? I mean, do you think their scientists would have fixed the flaw?”
“What flaw is that?”
“You know, the flaw in the programming of the nanos that keeps them from disintegrating and allowing us to be normal again.”
Beth almost sat up and put in her two cents’ worth then, but was too tired to bother, so simply stayed put and listened. She couldn’t help thinking, though, that if the people of Atlantis were anything like modern people, she didn’t imagine they were too upset with the results of that flaw. It was a scientific fountain of youth. Humans reached their peak somewhere between twenty-five and twenty-eight depending on the person, and so that was the state nanos ensured their hosts were returned to and stayed at . . . basically forever, as far as she could tell. Well, barring a beheading or burning up. It was one heck of a flaw.
“Or,” Donny continued, “do you think any of those scientists at Argeneau Enterprises might ever find a way to reverse the flaw or something? Reprogram the nanos or whatever?”
Beth waited curiously for Scotty’s answer, but he merely asked solemnly, “What do you think, lad?”
“I think they’ve been working with those nanos an awfully long time and not figured out anything,” he answered. “And I think even though they know it’s the natural order, maybe people are mostly afraid to die . . . including the scientists. So, maybe they don’t really want to find the fix for the flaw in the nanos.”
“And I think I was right before. Ye are a cannie lad, boyo,” Scotty said, sounding impressed.
“So, that would be a no?” Donny asked in a wry tone. “No, they won’t find the way to fix the flaw?”
“Would ye mind if they did no’?” Scotty queried, sounding curious.
“You’re asking if I’d mind staying young and strong forever?” he said on a laugh. “Of course not.”
They were both silent for a minute and then Donny added solemnly, “I do miss having family, though. I mean, mine weren’t the greatest, but they were family.”
“I ken family is usually thought o’ as forged by blood, lad, but blood does no’ always make fer good family. Just look at Cain and Abel, or Constantine. Sometimes a better family can be forged through friendship and time.” He paused, apparently to let that sink in, and then added, “Once ye’re a full-blown hunter, ye’ll find yer partner and coworkers becoming family to ye. Immortals ken the importance o’ family and recognize that ye have none now and will adopt ye into theirs.”
“Maybe.” Donny sounded dubious.
“I’m surprised Leigh and Lucian have no’ pulled ye into their family already,” Scotty commented.
“So you were awake for that part of the ride back to the house too, were you?” Donny asked on a chuckle. Scotty didn’t respond, at least not verbally. He must have nodded or something, though, because Donny grunted, and then said, “As for Leigh and Lucian, they kind of have tried to include me in their family, I think. I mean, Leigh invites me for every holiday and tries to get me to come out, but . . .”
“But ye’re no’ comfortable with them?” Scotty guessed. “Mayhap ye still feel some guilt for Leigh’s getting turned because o’ ye?”
“Yeah,” Donny said on a sigh. “And then there’s the fact that I don’t think Lucian likes me much.”
“Really? Why would that be?” Scotty asked with interest, and then must have read his mind because he said with certainty, “Ye still ha’e a crush on Leigh.”
“Well, sure,” Donny said as if that should be a given. “I mean, Leigh’s beautiful, and smart and awesome and—”
“I do no’ think Lucian does no’ like ye,” Scotty interrupted dryly.
“Really? Why? Has he said something to you about me?” Donny asked eagerly.
“Nay.”
“Then why?” he asked with confusion.
“Because if he’s read the thoughts in yer mind about his Leigh and has no’ yet beat ye to a pulp, then he must like ye a great deal. He also has more patience than I ever credited him with,” Scotty said dryly.
“Oh,” Donny muttered, sounding embarrassed.
“Oh, is right,” Scotty said with disgust. “Did ye have such X-rated thoughts about my life mate, ye’d no’ be long fer this world. At the very least ye’d get a sound thrashin’.” He paused briefly to let that sink in and then added, “Ye ha’e to learn to control yer thoughts, lad. Ye must remember any immortal older than ye can read every thought out o’ yer head.”
“Right,” Donny said on a dejected sigh.
“Ye need to learn to not think except in private.”
“Not think?” Donny echoed with disbelief. “That’s not even possible!”
“O’ course it is,” Scotty assured him. “Ye just pay attention to everything around ye and cut out the commentary in yer head until ye’re alone.”
“The commentary?” Donny asked uncertainly.
“Aye, that voice in yer head that says, ‘Hot damn, those candy-apple-red shoes are fine. I want to strip off every bit o’ clothing she has on, licking her from top to bottom as I do, and then, once she’s left in only those shoes, back her up against the wall and screw her slow and hard.’”