Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World #1)(51)

She sniffs. “Heaven forbid.”

“Yeah. Well.”

She’s quiet for a while before she says, “That Neizghání really messed you up.”

I look at her, startled. For the first time in days, I’m not thinking of my old mentor. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

“Sure he does. A man like that. Being raised up by a man like that. Loving a man like that. He’s got everything to do with it.”

I flush. Grace just nods. “I’ve raised four children, Maggie. Three I still got with me, though God saw fit to take my eldest.” She sucks on her teeth, looks out at the sunset with me. “I know a hurting child when I see one.”

“I’m not a child.”

“We’re all God’s children.”

“And I don’t need a mother.”

“Everyone needs a mother,” she spits, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Even a hardass like you. But I’m not volunteering for the job. I got enough trouble keeping my trigger-happy children alive. I got no idea what I’d do with you.”

“Then why are we sitting here talking?”

“I’m just telling you that just because that Neizghání taught you there was one way to skin a cat, it don’t mean it’s the only way to skin a cat. Or that a cat’s gotta be skinned at all.”

I grimace, but she’s dead serious. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re kind of shit at giving folksy advice. Probably better to stick to pouring drinks at the bar.”

A short burst of laughter. “Such a hardass.”

“I’m glad I amuse you.”

“Oh, you don’t amuse me, Maggie. You scare the shit out of me. I’ll be glad to see the back end of you.”

I sigh, feeling deflated. One more person who doesn’t want me around. “Soon enough, Grace. Soon enough.”

“Well.” She stretches her legs out, taps a foot against the wood deck. “Well.” A long exhalation. “Old Chuck Begay said that the roads are all barricaded by police checkpoints coming in and out of Tse Bonito. Main highway’s closed right down, and the Law Dogs are riding people like the devil, fit to tear Tse Bonito apart. Chuck thought it was due to the fire, but you mentioned Longarm before . . .” She lets it hang in the night air.

“Sounds about right,” I admit.

“Will they be looking for you?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But Kai was probably seen with him. It might take a few days, but someone’s bound to put two and two together and want to ask me a few questions.”

“I reckon it’s only a matter of time before the word is out that you and that boy are here.”

“Then I guess we better go.”

“I’m not telling you to leave,” she says. “I’m just telling you what to expect, is all.”

I nod. “Understood.”

She sits for a few more minutes before she says, “Well, I better get back to the bar. Stick to what I’m good at.” She gives me a tight-lipped smirk and then hauls herself up out of the chair.

The creak of footsteps on the wooden deck tells me we have company. She raises her eyes and whatever she sees over my shoulder makes her smile for real. “Now, aren’t you a fine-looking young man,” she says, and I know it has to be Kai. “I can see why Maggie dragged you over here and let us patch you back together. But you need to learn to defend yourself. You and this girl gonna keep taking on Law Dogs, you’re gonna have to learn to hit back. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kai’s voice comes from somewhere close behind me. I can almost see the blinding smile he’s flashing at Grace right now.

Grace rests a hand on my shoulder for a minute. I tense at the touch, but she acts like she doesn’t notice. She leans in close to my ear. “Think on what I said, Maggie.” She straightens up, points toward Kai. “Make her listen. She won’t listen to me. But I imagine a handsome young man like you could say things to a girl that would make her listen right up.”

“Jesus, Grace,” I say, embarrassed.

But Kai handles it smoothly, makes some joke about having a silver tongue that the ladies love that has her chortling and proclaiming herself scandalized, and old enough to be his grandmother. And then she’s down the stairs and across the dusty yard, back to the bar. I watch her until the door swings shut.

The chair next to me rocks as Kai sits down. “You didn’t tell me your paramilitary hideout was a freakin’ bar. There’s hope for you yet, Mags.”

Kai’s wearing different clothes. A red T-shirt, AC/DC emblazoned on the chest, with a pair of black cargo pants. And actual boots, the kind that come up midcalf and lace up. The outfit looks too small to fit Grace’s twins, and too big for the kid at the gate, so it must be from the pile she keeps for her cast of perpetual misfit houseguests. Either way, it’s miles better than the dress clothes and fancy shoes.

Kai’s black hair is wet, slicked back against his head instead of in its usual artful disarray, and his face looks flawless, skin smooth over high cheekbones and full lips quirked in a half smile. But his eyes are rimmed in red and it occurs to me that he’s probably been crying, not for himself but for Tah. And the fact that I have no tears for my friend who saved my life not once, but twice, settles down into my soul like a ten-ton weight. I pray that Grace with all her hokey wisdom is right, and that people mourn differently. That I can mourn at all.