7. Ward

Did I mention I hated road trips? Because I hated them.

They're boring. Monotonous. Exhausting. At least in a plane, the torture was usually over in a couple of hours, for the destinations I went to.

Fifteen hours in a vehicle, even one as roomy as Dev's Raptor? Shoot me now.

It didn't help that Dev was as upbeat as if he'd gotten a full eight hours plus of sleep the night before, even though I knew he'd gotten a max of five. Me, on the other hand? Once I'd woken up to Dev's hard footfalls racing down the hall, I hadn't been able to get back to sleep.

Fuckin' fantastic. Exactly how I wanted to start this trip.

Thankfully, Dev seemed occupied with the kid and vice versa, so I didn't have to contribute. I could rest my head on the window and listen to their banter, which…okay, it wasn't the worst thing in the world. They weren't loud or anything. They were happy. Enjoying each other's company. Talking about everything and nothing.

"Ooh, a diner," Hallie suddenly said. "And they have ice cream! Can we stop?"

"I could stand a coffee and a break." Dev glanced at me, even as he put on his signal to turn into the diner's lot. "Ward?"

Instead of answering him, I shot a look into the back seat. "It's five degrees out and you want ice cream?"

"I thought it was way colder than that!"

"He means five degrees Fahrenheit," Dev interjected with a chuckle. "That's cold."

"Fahrenheit is so stupid. Zero is freezing, a hundred is boiling. That makes way more sense."

"Right?"

"I'm feeling very ganged up on right now," I grumbled as we hopped down from the truck.

Dev and Hallie both laughed, and I had to admit—to myself only—that it was a good sound.

After a hearty breakfast, I dozed off when we got back in the truck. It was barely midmorning, since we'd left so early, and my mostly sleepless night, paired with my full stomach, dragged me into a fitful rest. An undetermined time later, I woke to a soft, "Shit."

Opening my eyes, I saw what had tugged the curse from the normally non-cursing Dev. Snow had started coming down thick enough that we could barely see the road ahead—but it was easy enough to see the red and blue lights of an emergency vehicle. I sat up straight as Dev slowed down to a crawl and then stopped as a cop dressed in full winter gear approached the driver's side window. Dev rolled it down, and snow blasted inside.

Fun.

"Morning," the cop greeted him. She wore a grim expression. "We're closing the highway due to a bad accident. Where are you headed?"

"Ottawa," Dev supplied.

She grimaced. "That's a hell of a drive in weather like this."

"Tell me about it. How long do you think the road will be closed?"

"Hours. There was a fatality."

"Damn," I said.

"We've closed it back at the junction of the 631. You must've gotten through right before. I'm sorry about this, but you're going to have to turn around."

"Great." Dev sighed. When it looked as though the cop was going to say something else, he cut him off with, "Good luck with the scene."

"Thanks. I'd let you through if I could."

Goddamn niceness power. The guy could rule the world if he wanted. Instead, he hit the button to power up the window, then carefully went through the maneuver to do a three-point turn without getting us stuck in the ditch.

"I guess that explains why there isn't any other traffic on the road," Hallie ventured.

I grunted. "It's fine. We'll take another route."

"Ha." The sound came out of Dev without a lot of humor behind it. "You know the South Park movie? How they go on about following the only road in Canada?"

I was starting to get a bad feeling. "Yeah?"

He swept a hand out in front of him. "I present the only road."

"Bullshit. She said there was a junction—"

"The 631, yeah. It'll take us down to the Soo."

"The what?"

"Sault Ste. Marie," he clarified, pronouncing the first word the same way, Soo. It wasn't much clarification at all. "Decent-sized city. But it'll add about three hours to the drive, total. And in weather like this, there's no way we're making it to Ottawa in one go. Sorry." He made another humorless sound. "Hell, we might not even make it to the Soo today. This weather is shit."

As much as I didn't relish dragging out this trip over two—or, god, more—days, I was also not a fan of dying on the road. "So what's our best move here? Find the 631 and try to get to…whatever that city is."

"The Soo," Hallie said.

"Right. Or find a hotel and wait out the storm and the road closure?" Sitting around for an entire day doing nothing didn't appeal, but again, better than dying on the road.

Dev was quiet as he considered the options. Honestly, they both sucked. Neither was a clear winner. Finally, Hallie said into the quiet, "I saw a roadside motel back aways. If I have a say—"

"Sure," Dev was quick to assure her.

"I say we stop. It's stressful enough being a passenger in this. I can't imagine driving through it."

"Agreed." I gave a decisive nod.

Dev's lips screwed up into a determined line. "At least check the radar. Maybe this storm is more localized than we think."

"Already done," Hallie said. "The weather app shows it covering most of Ontario. Except for Toronto and farther south."

He let out a breath. "Then yeah. Let's stop."

According to the navigation on the truck's dash display, it was only fifty kilometers to the motel Hallie had seen, but it felt like five hundred. There were no other vehicles on the road, not even plows, thanks to it being closed, and that meant the snow was accumulating fast. Conditions weren't quite at the whiteout stage, but that didn't mean it was easy to see where the road was. Dev's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and his shoulders looked so tense, I had no doubt he was going to be aching all night. Finally, we saw the flashing lights of a cruiser ahead, and a few hundred feet beyond that, the sign for the motel emerged from the snow. It was one story, with parking spaces in front of each door. Surprisingly, not many of them were empty.

That wasn't good. Stopping at a motel only worked if the motel had room.

Dev's grimace said he'd deduced the same. "I'll go in and see what they've got available."

I would've argued that he'd done enough, getting us here, but the longer I could stay in the warmth of the truck, the better. Not to mention his ability meant he'd have a better chance of securing a room than my grumpy ass would. He was back in a few minutes, bringing flurries of snow into the cab of the truck.

"We got their last two rooms." He shot me an apologetic look. "Sorry. We're going to have to share."

Not great, but—let's say it again—it was better than dying on the road. I shrugged.

"And the rooms aren't next door to each other, either." He glanced in the back seat. "You okay with that?"

"Sure. I'm not a little kid." Hallie rolled her eyes when I looked back.

"You've got our numbers if you need anything," I said. "Text, call, whatever. Anytime. But don't go wandering, okay?"

"Yes, Dad."

Dev parked in front of Hallie's room and we saw her inside with warnings not to open the door to anyone, before he led me to our room, three doors down. As soon as I opened the door, I saw a problem, one that hadn't occurred to me even as I'd seen the interior of Hallie's room. I froze right past the threshold and turned to glare at him.

"Only one bed?"

He shrugged, pushing past me and tossing his duffel on the side of the bed closest to the door. "Beggars can't be choosers. We're lucky they let us check in way before the usual time."

The bed—which was barely a queen—took up most of the room. There was a small wooden desk pushed up against the wall beside the door, with an upholstered chair that looked nice but was probably hard as hell. A TV was bolted into the wall above the desk, which was perpendicular to the bed. That wasn't going to make for comfortable viewing. There was only enough space between the bed and the wall at the foot of it to get by to the bathroom. There was nothing on that wall except a plethora of outlets.

Dev noticed that at the same time. "Why are there so many outlets?"

I counted them. "Eight. In one wall."

We stared at each other for a moment, clearly contemplating why anyone would need eight outlets on one wall in a twelve-by-twelve foot room. Then Dev sighed. "You okay if I take this side of the bed? Sorry, I should have asked before."

I considered saying I'd sleep on the floor—but I was too damn old to camp out on a hard floor. It was one night. I'd survive platonically sharing a bed with Dev. Even if it looked barely big enough for him, let alone the two of us.

"Sure. You better not snore."

He grinned. "No promises."

Thankfully, we didn't have to spend the day cooped up in the cramped room. A diner situated next to the motel beckoned us over, and provided hot coffee, plenty of snacks, and free Wi-Fi. We weren't the only motel guests who sought refuge there, and though the server seemed run off her feet, she kept the coffee coming with a smile.

Dev frowned at his computer, completely engrossed in something. Hallie was equally engaged with her phone. They both had earbuds in, so I figured now was as good a time as any to check in with April. Picking up my laptop and standing, I gestured at an empty table nearby as the server passed, and she gave me a nod.

"Go for it. More coffee?"

I wasn't going to say no.

Settling into the booth, grateful there was one that wasn't surrounded on all sides by other customers, I brought up the secure VPN that would allow me to connect with SPAM's servers. It took only a few minutes for April's single initial to appear in a circle on the screen. Unsurprisingly, she hadn't turned on her camera. She never did.

"Sullivan," she greeted me, her voice as firm and no-nonsense as ever. "You're following doctor's orders, right?"

I rolled my eyes before remembering that my camera was on. Oh well. She knew I hated it when she hounded me about health stuff. I quickly turned my camera off and slid the cover over the lens for good measure. "Yes, April."

A soft huff traveled through my earbuds, the only indication that she wasn't impressed with my response. "What have you got to report, then?"

Briefly, I outlined our progress—or lack thereof—toward Ottawa. Another almost imperceptible breath spoke volumes about her opinion, either about us, Canadian winter weather, or accidents that impeded traffic. Probably all of the above. "Your main concern is keeping your charge calm and in control until we can get her into a formal training academy."

I wrinkled my nose.

"I heard that."

"You did not," I shot back, then groaned. Every. Freaking. Time. I always fell for that, when I could stay silent and keep her guessing.

"You don't have the fondest memories of the academy you trained in, but they're not all bad, Ward. You learned important skills."

Yeah, like how to avoid bullies. And then, how to stand up to them. It was an eternity ago, but some mental scars never faded. "I'm allowed to have my opinion."

"You are," she agreed drily, "even if it's wrong. We've got a spot reserved for her at Legendary Flame Academy."

Okay, I was reluctantly impressed. The academy was named after an ultra-famous hero, one who'd been even more of a household name than me. As far as I knew, they were still debating if the name should be changed, given the scandal that happened after her death, but so far, no decision had been made. Whatever—it didn"t change that she"d been a powerhouse of a hero once upon a time. Despite the concerns about the name, it had a stellar reputation. Hallie would be well-cared for there, and have the best chance at a bright future. I grunted.

"Your impression of her so far?"

I glanced over at Hallie, sitting sideways in her seat across from Dev, still enraptured by whatever she was watching on her phone. A small smile floated across her lips, before widening into a full grin as her entertainment hit the right notes.

"Resourceful. Resilient. Willing to take instruction and eager to learn." Fuck, if I could teach her the smallest things, I had no doubt she'd soak every bit of knowledge up like a dry sponge. "She'll do well."

"Good." Silence stretched over the line, which was completely unlike April. Was she…hesitating?

My nerves ratcheted up, because if there was something April didn't want to tell me, it was bad. I wasn't sure what could be worse than the fact I was going to be forcibly retired once I returned to Washington, but—

"Doctor Crimson escaped."

I blinked at the large A on the screen, sure I'd heard her incorrectly. "What?"

"I'm sorry."

I blinked again. I couldn't have heard that right, but she wasn't correcting herself. "What?"

"Ward, Doctor Crimson escaped." She said it slower this time, each word in the sentence enunciated. "Two days ago. While you were in the hospital."

My heart galloped in my chest, pounding so hard against my breastbone I was sure it was either going to do an escape attempt of its own or simply stop. "No."

"Yes." April's voice was firm, implacable. That was her serious voice—not that she was ever not serious, but there was a gravity to her tone that usually wasn't present when I spoke to her. Maybe because I'd known her so long? How long was it, anyway?

On some level, I knew my brain was grasping to think about anything other than the implications of—of—

Pain. Like nothing I'd ever known. I felt like I was being torn apart, atom by atom, molecule by molecule. Rearranged, like some science experiment conducted by a mad scientist. A mad doctor.

"Ward!"

Dev plucked one of my earbuds from my ear and put it in his own—ew—but then I heard how harsh my breathing was, how raspy, and I didn't care about my earbud anymore.

I remembered this. Panic attack. Once upon a time, I'd known how to get through it, but I couldn't recall the steps now. My chest hurt—not like when he'd ripped my powers from me, but it made it hard to breathe.

Suddenly the lid on my laptop was closed and my chair was forcibly turned so all I could see was Dev crouched in front of me. His eyes were tight at the corners, glinting with concern behind his dark-framed glasses. He grabbed one of my hands and pressed it to his chest.

"Breathe with me," he said, his voice low. He sucked in an exaggerated lungful of air, and I felt his chest rise with it. Then he exhaled, slowly, and his chest deflated.

I tried to mimic him, but my torso was too tight. I shook my head. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," he insisted. "In…and out."

It took a few more repetitions before I found myself falling into the same rhythm. Shaky, not at all as deep an inhale as I should have been capable of, but I was in control again. Feeling like I'd run ten miles, but in control.

Realizing my hand was still on Dev's chest—and we were garnering quite a few looks from the other diners—I jerked my hand back to my lap and swallowed. I wasn't embarrassed. After what I'd been through, it was expected, even natural, to react like that to the idea of—

Christ. "He's out," I whispered, the truth of what April had said breaking through the remnants of the panic to truly sink in.

"I don't know who you're talking about," Dev said somberly. "April told me to tell you there's a manhunt but there's no way he's coming after you. Even if he could find you. They're pretty sure he's heading for the Mexican border." He frowned, curiosity in his gaze, but he didn't ask for the details he clearly wanted to know.

Fuck. If he wasn't careful, I might actually end up liking this guy.

"Thanks." My voice was gruff and gravelly, so I grabbed my coffee mug and took a sip. I barely tasted it, my thoughts still on the man—the monster—who'd ended my career.

"You okay?" Dev's hand had found my thigh at some point, for balance no doubt, but now I was suddenly very aware of it. How his fingers flexed on my muscle, digging in, then relaxing, a pattern that seemed automatic. I wondered if he knew he was doing it.

It was far better to focus on the motions of those fingers than the memories.

"No." I owed him that much truth for coming to my rescue.

"Anything I can do?" He looked at me so earnestly, as though he were only waiting for me to give him the key to fixing things, and he'd do whatever he could with it.

I sighed. "No. But…thanks." I resisted the urge to pat the hand still on my thigh.

He stood, offered me a gentle smile, and looked over at Hallie. She was still absorbed in her phone, but every few seconds, her gaze would dart to us. Checking.

Dev's expression softened further. "She's a good kid."

I grunted, not that I disagreed with him. She was good. And I'd do everything in my power to make sure she didn't end up like me.