"It's your fault. At least part of it is."

"Which part?"

"I don't know, and I'm too tired, I'm too mad, I'm too lost in this foreign wilderness to give a damn. I need a ride."

"At your service. Where to?"

"Hawkins Hollow."

He smiled, and there was something dark in it. "Handy. I'm heading there myself." He gestured toward his car. "Gage Turner," he added.

She gestured in turn, rather regally, toward her suitcase. "Cybil Kinski." She lifted her eyebrows when she got her first good look at his car. "You have very nice wheels, Mr. Turner."

"Yeah, and they all work."

CHAPTER Fourteen

CAL WASN'T PARTICULARLY SURPRISED TO SEEFox's truck in his driveway, despite the hour. Nor was he particularly surprised when he walked in to see Fox blinking sleepily on the couch in front of the TV, with Lump stretched out and snoring beside him.

On the coffee table were a can of Coke, the last of Cal's barbecue potato chips, and a box of Milk Bones. The remains, he assumed, of a guy-dog party.

"Whatcha doing here?" Fox asked groggily.

"I live here."

"She kick you out?"

"No, she didn't kick me out. I came home." Because they were there, Cal dug into the bag of chips and managed to pull out a handful of crumbs. "How many of those did you give him?"

Fox glanced at the box of dog biscuits. "A couple. Maybe five. What're you so edgy about?"

Cal picked up the Coke and gulped down the couple of warm, flat swallows that were left. "I got a feeling, a...thing. You haven't felt anything tonight?"

"I've had feelings and things pretty much steady the last couple weeks." Fox scrubbed his hands over his face, back into his hair. "But yeah, I got something just before you drove up. I was half asleep, maybe all the way. It was like the wind whooshing down the flue."

"Yeah." Cal walked over to stare out the window. "Have you checked in with your parents lately?"

"I talked to my father today. It's all good with them. Why?"

"If all three of us are direct descendents, then one of your parents is in the line," Cal pointed out.

"I figured that out on my own."

"None of our family was ever affected during the Seven. We were always relieved by that." He turned back. "Maybe relieved enough we didn't really ask why."

"Because we figured it, at least partly, was because they lived outside of town. Except for Bill Turner, and who the hell could tell what was going on with him?"

"My parents and yours, they came into town during the Seven. And there were people, you remember what happened out at the Poffenberger place last time?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." Fox rubbed at his eyes. "Being five miles out of town didn't stop Poffenberger from strangling his wife while she hacked at him with a butcher knife."

"Now we know Gran felt things, saw things that first summer, and she saw things the other night. Why is that?"

"Maybe it picks and chooses, Cal." Rising, Fox walked over to toss another log on the fire. "There have always been people who weren't affected, and there have always been degrees with those who were."

"Quinn and Layla are the first outsiders. We figured a connection, but what if that connection is as simple as blood ties?"

Fox sat again, leaned back, stroked a hand over Lump's head as the dog twitched in his sleep. "Good theory. It shouldn't weird you out if you happen to be rolling naked with your cousin a couple hundred times removed."

"Huh." That was a thought. "If they're descendents, the next point to figure is if having them here gives us more muscle, or makes us more vulnerable. Because it's pretty clear this one's it. This one's going to be the all or nothing. So...Someone's coming."

Fox pushed off the couch, strode quickly over to stand by Cal. "I don't think the Big Evil's going to drive up to your house, and in a..." He peered closer as the car set off Cal's motion lights. "Holy Jesus, is that a Ferrari?" He shot a grin at Cal.

"Gage," they said together.

They went on the front porch, in shirtsleeves, leaving the door open behind them. Gage climbed out of the car, his eyes skimming over them both as he walked back to get his bag out of the trunk. He slung its strap over his shoulder, started up the steps. "You girls having a slumber party?"

"Strippers just left," Fox told him. "Sorry you missed them." Then he rushed forward, flung his arms around Gage in a hard hug. "Man, it's good to see you. When can I drive your car?"

"I was thinking never. Cal."

"Took your goddamn time." The relief, the love, the sheer pleasure pushed him forward to grip Gage just as Fox had.

"Had some business here and there. Want a drink. Need a room."

"Come on in."

In the kitchen, Cal poured whiskey. All of them understood it was a welcome-home toast for Gage, and very likely a drink before war.

"So," Cal began, "I take it you came back flush."

"Oh yeah."

"How much you up?"

Gage turned the glass around in his hand. "Considering expenses, and my new toy out there, about fifty."

"Nice work if you can get it," Fox commented.

"And I can."

"Look a little worn there, brother."

Gage shrugged at Cal. "Long couple of days. Which nearly ended with me in a fiery crash right out on Sixty-seven."

"Toy get away from you?" Fox asked.