Wade was surprised when he heard someone knock at the passenger window of the car he was waiting in. This vehicle had been left in town specifically for transport in situations like this one.

  Aside from suspiciously well-made shock absorbers, it looked like a regular—and somewhat rundown—vehicle. The driver was ostensibly another bane who also had business up north, but he was actually another minder like Jasque. And he hadn't expected either of them to be back for a while yet.

  With half a mind on his mark in case of anything fishy, he forced himself to contort around the various seats and equipment so he could reach from the back of the car to the front and hit the button that rolled down the window.

  And there, looking stunning with her hair down and in a flannel over a T-shirt, was Shilloh.

  "Hi, thank you," she wasn't looking at him. Instead, her head was craned over her shoulder, and she was speaking quickly, like she was expecting to have a door slammed on her and had already started looking for the next car." I was just wondering if you had any open seats for today?"

  The dryad only then seemed to take in who she was speaking to.

  "Oh."

  "Hey."

  They stared at each other for an awkward moment, and then he hit the button that undid the locks.

  "Hop in, you know, if you want."

  Her expression grew stormy and unyielding. "I think I've been kidnapped enough by you already."

  He gaped. What the fuck were you even supposed to say to that? Semantic argument wasn't the right choice. Who cared if you held the syringe or were merely a willing accomplice to the injection? Blaming protocol would be almost as bad.

  Luckily, before he had time to do more than stutter, Shilloh signed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

  "I'm sorry. That was harsh. It's possible that you don't deserve that. I shouldn't have said that."

  There was an unspoken addendum in the air. It said 'yet.' Wade received the very clear impression that he would get a tongue lashing and probably a physical one if she decided he deserved it..

  The thought filled him with a surprising swell of emotions. He really didn't want her to think that way about him.

  But what could you do? He had done what he did, and he would do it again.

  "I understand," he said, leaning back into the rear seats. "Offers open, but I understand if you would like other options."

  Shilloh just grunted and glared at him for what felt like a long time before grunting and speaking in a grudging tone, "If I step in, you won't ask me to join a book club, will you?"

  "No. I mean, not unless you want to join one, I guess. Why?"

  "Don't worry about it." With that, she walked to the rear door opposite him and stepped in.

  She arranged her pack and some overnight supplies. It shocked him how good she looked in travel clothes.

  Shilloh was not tall, but unlike Birch, Shilloh didn't give the impression of being short. Despite a certain bubbly energy and delicate features that would make her seem like she was in their early twenties for the foreseeable future, she didn't seem small. She seemed strong. The days spent in the wilderness showed in the muscles of her body. If not for what he could only describe as 'profound curves' (spiritually profound, not like morphological disfigurement), the muscles of her shoulders might have come off masculine. As it was, she looked like a woman. Someone who could wear a flannel or a sundress. Someone who could chop the wood she used to heat her own custom blend of tea.

  How she gave that impression was hard to say. In some ways, they were dressed similarly. He wore what he always did. Fancy outdoors blends of fabric, functional pants with lots of pockets, and weapons. She wore sweatpants, athletic shoes, and weariness. But somehow she made it look like set pieces from a movie, whereas he just looked like someone who chose clothes they wouldn't mind throwing out if they had to get dirty.

  None of his thoughts were relevant, though. It wasn't like she had dressed for him or his opinions.

  He turned to face her, his back against the window so that they could talk face-to-face despite both being in the back seat. "You said you were only looking for open seats today? Not going forward?"

  She mirrored his position, though he noticed that she didn't turn all the way. She kept a bit of wariness in her body language. "Yeah. It turns out that some friends will also be in the caravan. "

  "And you're not riding with them?"

  "They're being pushy about stuff my NDA won't let me discuss."

  He winced, "I'm sorry. That's got to suck."

  She just shrugged. "I doubt I'll have to walk off more than once for them to realize I'm serious."

  "Yeah."

  "Yeah. And, honestly. I'm worried they're making dumb decisions. At least today, I don't want to see any more of them. I'm too tired to deal with more drama. Interventions suck."

  "Want to talk about it?"

  "No, thank you."

  They sat in awkward silence. As a senior bane he probably should have advice. But his personal techniques were not great for the general public: move constantly, don't make friends, and have a bodyguard ready to kill you if you strayed from the mission in a way that indicated your mind had broken.

  Silence, despite being wise in this scenario, did not make it comfortable.

  Finally, Shilloh broke the spell, "Fuck. This is almost as awkward as the drive back from prom. But I'm not drunk, and neither of us is pretending like we can't smell that you shit your pants."

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  "I'm sorry, what? That was your prom?"

  Shilloh laughed. "I know, right? Can you imagine what it was like returning that rented tux?"

  He shook his head. "No. My prom was quiet. None of my friends knew how to dance, and so we left early. We binge ate cheese-dip someone's Mom made, and then stayed up late all night playing manhunt in the woods."

  "Really? No drinking?"

  "I mean, some. But I was with a nerdy group who skipped the after party."

  "Didn't like to party?"

  "Still don't. Too loud."

  "Ironic coming from someone who carries a handgun so big that you could use it as a pool stick."

  "No, I couldn't," he said, lifting his nose. "Pool halls are too sticky. I'd never go to one, or let my baby touch pool balls that had been in everyone's grubby hands. Perish the thought."

  She snorted out a laugh and relaxed into her seat. "Mark my words; You're going to meet someone and they are going to blow open your horizons."

  Wade found his smile dimming, something about what she said killing his mood. Maybe it was just that he could only really imagine going to a pool hall with her. Even Scotty had given up on taking him to anything rowdier than trivia night.

  "Yeah," he tried to smile, "I guess."

  Shilloh opened her mouth, but trailed off while fidgeting with the buttons on her open flannel.

  He reached out with his power and made sure she felt it while he ensured no one could eavesdrop.

  She looked at him sharply.

  He waved her down, "If your NDA makes car trips awkward, then you can't even imagine what mine does."

  "You might be surprised. I was in witness protection for years."

  "Witness protection? Wouldn't it be like witness relocation, or something else? You're a dryad, not testifying against a crime lord."

  "Who says I'm not?"

  He was about to make a joke, but the look on her face stopped him. "Wait, really?"

  "Your earlier kidnapping wasn't my first rodeo."

  "Oh god. No. Really?"

  She nodded and crossed her ankles.

  He grimaced, "Holy shit. How can you be so glib about all this?"

  "I'm repressing it," she said with jazz hands and a grinning, rictus smile.

  "Seriously, though. I didn't know that when Jasque—"

  "REPRESSING," she grated, her jazz hands becoming even more forceful.

  "Fine! I'll let it drop, but I do owe you an apology. If I had known you had that in your past... Well, I can't imagine what it's like. And I deeply regret making you have to relive any of that."

  She stared at him, her face blank. "I notice you didn't apologize for actually doing it."

  "No. I was told that in a situation like that, where a single person saw what you did, what Jasque and I did would be the best possible response in terms of managing fallout."

  "So it was just policy."

  "Oh, definitely not policy. It was illegal, and no official order was ever made, but I doubt jail time would have stuck. Plus, it made time for someone like Sam to get involved."

  Her mouth tightened. "You're not doing a great job defending yourself."

  "Defending myself is not the point. I wronged you. I sincerely wish that it had never happened. Me having decided that something was more important than hurting you doesn't make the hurt right."

  After a moment, she spoke in a quiet voice. "I felt the thing you did just a bit ago. Can you let me feel your aura without letting everyone around us know?"

  "Uh, yes," he said, confused by the sudden subject change.

  "Would you?"

  He shouldn't, she didn't need any more hints about his secrets, but that didn't stop him from doing it anyway.

  It was not logistically reasonable to have claimed the entirety of the town. It would have been noticed in the early stages before he could make the Mark unnoticeable. Still, he absolutely had driven his mark into every nook and cranny of this car.

  He touched that mark, pushed back the barrier with his wild talent, and shifted his thoughts. The space she occupied, the air she breathed, and everything she could touch became his. He didn't push his influence into her body, partially because it was a battle that was almost impossible to win unless your magic was specifically tailored to overcome people's inherent resistance. But he made sure to touch on the boundaries of her and gently squeeze them.

  Her face paled, but she stayed otherwise stoic. "So when you were talking about lives hanging on your decisions…"

  "I meant it very literally. I can't tell you details yet, but each day matters. And I'm training for the situations where minutes and seconds save lives."

  "You can't give any more details? Even after I signed the NDA?"

  "No."

  "Seriously? Is no one going to answer any of my questions?"

  "Not if we can help it."

  "What if I just ask a bunch of banal things? You answer anything you think is harmless. If we do enough, then I might be able to at least figure out if I need to buy a suit or, like, a briefcase or whatever."

  He laughed, "I understand more and more why Sam ran away from you. You're relentless."

  "She did not 'run away' from me. She left before implicating herself in a way that would draw attention to certain inconsistencies in her negotiation position—"

  He started laughing.

  "What! That's exactly what happened!"

  "No, you used a calculator to bend numbers into shapes that I didn't know they could be in. Who breaks down a cost-of-living calculator and challenges each factor before calculating the probability of missing bills due to the dental deductible limits? I have never seen someone put on the back foot so consistently for so long."

  "She was hiring me for a hazardous job. I hardly think my questions were unreasonable."

  "You asked her for statistics about mortality and PTSD that you absolutely knew she could not have, so you could ask for money you knew she was incapable of approving for you."

  "No. Her agreeing to pay me would have been a red flag. I never tried to make her sign me."

  "You're sure about that?"

  "There were certain implications left open-ended so I could see if she handled them with integrity."

  "Of course."

  "All I needed was a reaction from her so I could be ready for the real negotiation! How else could I tell what things they would be hoping I didn't know to push about?"

  "You could have asked me."

  "Yeah," she snorted, "like asking you questions is helping me so much right now. Plus, I was angry and trying to stay professional."

  That killed the mood. What had been rapid back-and-forth banter fell instantly dead. Which was probably fair. He had just recently admitted to his willingness to drug and kidnap people.

  They once again sat in silence. She fidgeted with the upholstery, and he thought about pointing out a particularly cool hidden weapon that had been secreted by that seat belt buckle in case of emergencies.

  Probably not the right moment.

  Shilloh spoke without looking up, "I am finding it distressingly difficult to stay angry at you."

  Okay. Well, how the fuck was he supposed to respond to that?

  "I'm… glad?" That was the best he could pull off. It was impossible to know what was coming out of her mouth next. At least this time, he wasn't being compared to a teenager who had recently shit his own pants.

  "I don't like some of the ways you've used your power, and I dislike not knowing what all is going on so I can decide what kind of asshole you are."

  Her tone rasped against his nerves. He did not like always being the bad guy. He had reasons for what he did. The implication that she was deigning to sully herself by explaining to him was getting annoying. "Oh? Do enlighten me, please."

  "You sure you want to open that can of worms?"

  Wade felt the surge of resentment, the need to defend. He used an old trick, imagining it like a shout that kept getting louder. The anger screamed, coming towards his ears like a scared skydiver. The volume came to a peak before trailing off into the distance. It got thinner and quieter before splatting on the ground.

  With the feeling passed, he opened himself up to the fact that he did not know everything, and she might have a kernel of wisdom he would be better for.

  He smiled and spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. Even annoyed, she would not offend him. Probably could not.

  He was nothing special, just another person serving mask and mission. Wrongness was his natural state, and striving to inch away from it was a constant pursuit.

  Let her try to frazzle him.

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