Chapter 141
Katelina stared at Verchiel, her eyes wide. "What - what are you talking about?" Then, for good measure she added, "And what are you doing here?"
"Just passing through. I saw all the lights and wondered what was going on, and there you and our cheerful Jorick were, smack dab in the middle of it all." He dropped his hand from her shoulder to her arm. "So, let's go."
Her mother stepped out onto the porch and squinted into the shadows. "Who is that?"
Katelina was at a loss how to explain Verchiel because she scarcely knew who he was herself, let alone what he was doing there. However, he quickly filled in for her, "Just a friend." He caught her mother's eyes and held them a second longer than necessary.
"A friend," her mother repeated oddly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Brad demanded. "A friend? A friend of who? Kately or that guy?"
While Katelina cringed at the use of her old nickname, Verchiel embraced it with delight. "Both of course. I just adore dear Kately." As if to prove it, he patted her on the head. "If you'll get her coat and excuse us, I believe Jorick needs rescuing."
Brad objected, but Verchiel didn't bother to acknowledge him. He waited until her mother handed out the garment, and then he dragged Katelina off the porch and across the yard. She could hear her mother soothing Brad in a strange, hollow tone, "It's all right, he's a friend."
They reached the end of the sidewalk when Katelina jerked loose. "What did you do to her?"
"Nothing that won't wear off shortly," he whispered pointedly and tugged her towards the car. "I'm not sure how much you know about arrest procedures, but you want Jorick out of the police station as quickly as possible. I doubt he's bothered with an identity for some time, and that's going to be a problem."
She couldn't argue with that, though she really wanted to. The best she could manage was a weak, "He has a driver's license."
"That's a start, at least." Verchiel stopped next to the car and held out his hand. "Keys?"
"Jorick has them. I'll ask Mom to borrow her car."
The voices on the porch got louder; her mother's had a shrill edge. "Ah yes, it's wearing off," Verchiel commented. "By the time your mother agrees to let you borrow her car, and Mr. tough-guy gets done with his objections, Jorick will already be in a cell. We'll just have to walk." He paused, thoughtfully. "Jorick didn't call anyone after we left last night, did he?"
"No." And then she understood. Redial. "His apartment is clear across town! It will take forever to walk there!"
He tugged her quickly down the sidewalk. "I'm a lot faster than you are." He came to a stop under a shadowy evergreen and dropped into a crouch. "Climb on." He indicated that she should ride piggy-back style.
She took a step back. "Are you nuts? That's going to look conspicuous!"
"No one will see us. There's no way you can keep up otherwise. I told you, I'm faster than you. For that matter, I'm faster than Jorick." He looked up and met her eyes. "Every second you delay is another second he gets closer to a jail cell."
His logic was skewed, but it still made sense. Hesitantly, she put her arms around his neck. He stood quickly and hitched her up, then took off into the darkness with the obvious advice to "hold on."
The houses moved past them quickly, gaining speed, and she squeezed her eyes shut to keep from being sick. He hadn't been exaggerating. This was much faster than she'd ever seen Jorick go. She opened her eyes, only to find that they were in a midair leap from one rooftop to another. She quickly mashed her eyes shut again and visions of smashing on the pavement filled her mind and twisted her stomach.
It was mere minutes later when they came to a halt and Verchiel's voice cut into her terrified imaginings. "I don't suppose you have a key to this either?"
Slowly, she allowed herself to look around, and discovered that they were on the roof of Jorick's old apartment. She didn't want to think about how they'd gotten there so quickly, or how they ended up on the roof. It made the paranormal kangaroo idea an even truer scarier one. "No."
"I thought not. Hang on."
"But-" she didn't get to finish. He raced across the roof and leapt over the edge of the building. Katelina screamed as the ground seemed to slam towards her. He grabbed the thick stone ledge of one of the windows and swung them towards it. Before she'd even processed the images, she was through the suddenly opened window and lying on the blue carpeted floor.
"Sorry," Verchiel said unapologetically as he straightened his long black coat. "I suppose you're not used to the speed." He offered her a grin and pointed to the phone. "I suggest you call. Oren doesn't know who I am."
Though she wanted to stay where she was, the urgency of the situation prompted her to crawl across the room and pick up the phone. She closed her eyes, still dizzy from the trip, and mashed the redial button. The musical tones died away into a series of rings. One after another peeled off. Finally, someone picked up. "Hello?"
"Oren." She gasped out. "Is Oren there?"
"That depends on who this is."
"Katelina." She rushed to explain, "Jorick- he's in trouble. He told me to call -"
"Ah, hey Lunch!" It was Micah. Fantastic. "What'd he do, huh? Never mind, I'll get Oren. Predictable, though."
Katelina muttered a few choice words about the bald vampire. The only one who heard them was Verchiel and he seemed amused.
She glared at him, but didn't have time for more before Oren's voice came through to her. "Katelina? What's going on?"
She quickly spilled out the story, and when she'd finished Oren was far from helpful. "I could have told him that was a bad idea, not that he'd have listened. It would take me all night to get there, and by then it would be too late. I'd advocate escape at this point. It should be easy enough and Jorick should be able to do it with minimal casualties. Of course, The Guild won't see it that way." Someone spoke in the background and Oren explained the situation to them. The laughter that followed was distinctly Micah's.
"That's your plan?" she demanded over the noise.
"I don't know what else I'm supposed to do. I cut all of my ties in that area some time ago - except - " he stopped mid-sentence. "There is Baltheir. I believe he settled close to Dunwick. It's a long shot." Micah said something and Oren repeated it to her, his tone business like. "How much is the bail?"
"Um, I don't know. He told me to call you first thing."
Micah said something else, and Oren agreed before he repeated, "If it's a murder or kidnapping charge they probably won't set a bail. All right, I'll try to get hold of Baltheir. You stay with your mother." He broke off and then asked, "That is where you're at? Or are you at the police station?"
"Neither," she answered uncomfortably. "I'm in Jorick's apartment. I don't have your number."
Oren made a noise of annoyance. "Have you something to write on?"
She lowered the phone and glanced at Verchiel. "Do you have a pen?"
"No. Why? What do you need?"
"His number," she said hesitantly.
"I'll remember it. Just repeat it to me."
"Who is that?" Oren demanded. "Who are you talking to?"
"Oh, that Verchiel guy. The one Jorick found last night."
"Why is he with you? I wouldn't trust him, and I know Jorick wouldn't either. Go back to your mother's and wait."
Part of her wanted to do exactly as he said, but there was something almost familiar about the strange redhead; something she couldn't quite name or understand. She was pretty sure he wasn't going to harm her. "It's all right," she said as she wound up her mental debate. "Just give me your number and I'll call you soon."
Oren swore loudly. "I'm not responsible for this. Make that clear to Jorick. I told you not to trust him! I want him to know -"
"Yeah, yeah," she assured him impatiently. "The number?"
She repeated it to Verchiel, then hung up and explained the pathetic plan in a few words. Verchiel shook his head in disgust. He crouched down and seized the phone. "If that's the best he's got, then it looks like I'll need to call in a favor."
Katelina drew across the room and sat huddled beneath the windows while he talked quickly and quietly to someone on the other end. She tugged her coat tightly around her, and tried to pick apart his words, but he spoke too softly.
"There, that's done," he announced and hung up the phone.
"What's done?"
"A lawyer, of course. One of the best. He should be calling the station soon, so unless we want to miss the fun, I suggest we get going."
Her stomach heaved at the idea of another dash across the city. "Maybe we should call a taxi?"
He waved her suggestion away with a gloved hand. "Nonsense. Always travel light and stay self-sufficient, that's the best way. Come along and try not to scream this time."
