Wayward Son (Simon Snow, #2)(55)

“Tassshhtes like plashtic,” the voice rumbles. It’s a feminine rumble.

“I know,” Shepard says, “sorry.”

A stream-like hand reaches out to touch his cheek. “Ogallala Aquiferrr,” she babbles, caressing him. “Rocky Mountain shhhhhnow.”

“Yeah,” Shepard says, “I’m on a road trip.”

“More like a rescue mission,” I say.

The water turns to me, then backs away. Recedes. “Shhtrangerrssh,” it says. She says. She rushes.

“Friends,” Shepard says.

“You’rrre too trussshhhting, Shhep.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But I’m usually a good judge of character.”

“Magic,” she says. “Dangerrr. Let me take them, you shhtay clean.”

The water level is getting higher in the reservoir. The col umn thickens, more decisively taking a woman’s shape. I resist the urge to cast a spell. Simon squeezes my shoulder.

“They mean us no harm!” Shepard insists. “They’re looking for their friend. We think she was kidnapped by vampires.”

The water—some sort of river spirit? Is she the river itself?—hisses. “Bad company,” she splatters. My shoes and socks are wet. Baz steps away from the wall.

“The worst,” Shepard says. “We think she’s with the Next Blood.”

The entire lake is disturbed. We can hear it pounding against the concrete.

“We thought maybe you could tell us where they are,” Shepard says. “You’re everywhere.”

“Not anymorrre,” she sobs. “I am dammed and diminishhhed and loshht to the mishht.”

“You’re still grand,” he says, “from where I’m standing.”

The water laps at his face. It makes a noise like, Psssssht.

Shepard leans out farther—too far, his feet are off the ground. His face and hair are dripping.

“The New Blood taste dishhtilled,” she grumbles. “Chemicalshh, vitamin shupplemntshhh.”

I’m getting impatient. “Where are they?”

I get soaked in answer.

Shepard flashes me a “shut up” face. Oh, now he wants me to shut up. “We’d be so grateful for your help,” he says entreatingly.

“Weshhht,” she says.

“Just west?”

“On the shhhoresh. Shaltwaterr. Irrigashhion. Golf courshesshhh.”

“That could be anywhere in California,” Shepard says to himself.

“I tashte them closherrr shometimeshh.”

“Yeah?”

“Vegashh.”

“They’re mixing with the others? That can’t be.”

The water seems to shhrug. I mean shrug. “They all find theirrr way to the Katherrrine eventually.”

“The Katherine,” Shepard says. “Like, the hotel?”

“No.” She shakes her head back and forth, splashing in every direction. “Dangerrr. You shhhould let them go alone.”

“Blue. I’ve promised them my help.”

“You’rrrre too helpful.”

“That reminds me.” He smiles and slides to the ground, taking off his rucksack. “Brought you some good news.” He pulls a novel out of his bag. “I liked this one. Kind of sad. Good jokes though.”

“Is it ficchhhion?”

“Of course,” he says, dropping it in the water. He reaches back into the rucksack. “This one takes itself too seriously, but I know you’re a sucker for Westerns.” He pitches another book over the rail. “I would have brought more, but I didn’t know I was coming. I did get this, though, on the way.” He holds up a radio. “Waterproof.”

“No shhuchh thing,” she drips.

“Well, water-resistant,” he says, dropping it in. The water gushes up to catch it. “I’ll be back when I can to change the batteries.”

“Thankshhhep. You’rre a good frriend.”

Simon has wandered down the walkway a bit, now that we have as much as we’re going to get about Agatha. He’s flapping his wings to look farther over the rail.

A wall of water rises up in front of him, and the woman’s shape seems to walk through it, reaching for Simon’s chin. “I know you,” she says, daubing at him.

Simon lands on the pavement, standing very still.

“You werrre the drrrain.”

He nods. “Yeah.… Sorry. Did I take your magic?”

“Not mine. The worrrrld’sh, yeshhh?”

“I’m sorry,” Simon says again. “I didn’t know.”

She smooths his hair back, sopping it. “Shhookay,” she burbles. “You put it back. And morrre.”

He bows his head and lets her hand fall over him.

Baz and I are transfixed. So is the security guard a few feet away.

I hold up my amethyst. “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for!”

“These aren’t the droids I’m looking for,” the man says, turning away. “Why was I looking for droids.…”

“We have to go,” Baz says. He looks at the river. “Thank you.”

“She wasn’t that much help,” I mutter. Baz elbows me.