The basajaunak gathered next to the motel, standing near trees or within bushes, suddenly became visible. They’d been told to stay out of sight until they boarded in case another invisible mage happened by. If we could grab one before heading to Kingsley’s, we’d have one less to worry about later. Plus, it kept the basajaunak out of the way.
“Didn’t see them over there.” The man looked around for a moment, maybe counting them up.
“Lemme give my buddy a call. We can at least transport some of ’em.”
“He seems like a do-gooder,” Dave said as Phil stopped next to us and put his hands on his hips.
“He seems like he wants to help,” he continued, giving me a hopeful look.
“The vans are pretty tight,” Phil said.
Austin glanced over, in the middle of directing people into the vans in the order he wanted them to arrive at his brother’s territory. I knew he wanted to make a flashy entrance. A bunch of camping trailers would not fit the image he wanted to project.
Her paused to hear the verdict, her position—halfway in and halfway out—looking incredibly uncomfortable.
I sighed and looked back at the man. “I’ll pay you for your time,” I told him. “You’d really be helping us out.”
“No problem.” He put his hand up in a wave that turned into a thumbs-up. “I’ll be back right quick. You just wait there.”
He half jogged back the way he’d come, wasting no time.
My heart swelled, and I motioned Her out of the van. It always made me a little gushy when perfect strangers went out of their way to help me. I hadn’t experienced any of that growing up in L.A.
As I left them, making my way to the cargo vans at the back to check on the killer flowers, I noticed Mimi sitting on a bench in front of the motel. She made a point of nodding her approval.
Given the importance of image to shifters, I was suddenly nervous that Austin wouldn’t agree.
Putting that out of my mind, because what was done was done, I rounded an open cargo door and stared into the sleek black van. Even the killer flowers had been given top-of-the-line transportation.
Indigo sat amongst them, reading. These were the calmer flowers, the ones they called the Violators, which I would absolutely be changing to the Protectors, because Violators sounded seriously icky.
“How are we doing?” I asked her.
She looked up, blinked a couple times, and then glanced around at the flowers. They stood stock-still, waiting for permanent placement before they started interacting with their surroundings.
“Doing well, I think,” she said. “They didn’t seem to like the airplane much. I think it was the pressure change. But being in the car? I think they like it just fine. Don’t you, Violators?” Her voice changed, as though she were talking to a pet. “Don’t you just wuuv car rides? You’re going to be at your new home soon, isn’t that exciting? Yes it is, huh? Yes it is!”
“Okay, then.” I gave her a thumbs-up. “Looking great. We’re just waiting on some transportation help, and then we should be on our way.”
“Okie-dokie.” She smiled at me, adjusted her glasses, and went back to reading.
The second van, transporting the other half of the Protectors, held Hollace, also reading a book.
Out loud. To the flowers.
“Hey,” I said as I looked in at him. “How’s it going?”
He paused for a moment, lowering the book. “Fine. Edgar had to go do that thing with Niamh, so I said I’d take a turn watching the seedlings.”
“Okay great. We’re—”
“I heard. Campers, basajaunak, waiting. What do you think the accommodations are going to be like there? A tent in the woods, kinda like the basajaunak lands, or more like O’Briens?”
“I think more like O’Briens, though I’m not sure how much space they actually have for guests and strangers.”
He nodded and looked back at his book. “Life has never been dull since I joined this outfit.”
I grimaced. “Regrets?”
He lowered the book again to meet my eyes. “Not even a little. I’ve had enough dull for a while.
That’s why I answered the summons. I’m right where I want to be. We all like that you keep life interesting. The gargoyles included. They’re happier than pigs in shit since they signed up. I don’t think they realized how dull their lives really were with all those pseudo-battles and pretend fighting they did. We were made for this. You’re letting us do what we’re made for. It’s a damn good time.”