Page 143 of Black to Light

I was half-awake, bleary-eyed, lulled by the motion of the train, but somehow not quite able to sleep on it, either. I raised my head, propped my upper body up on an arm, and rubbed my slightly itchy eye with the palm of my hand.

Black stirred next to me, his arm still around me from behind.

We hadn’t gotten any real time alone.

We hadn’t gottenanytime alone, in terms of being really,reallyalone, and certainly not in an intimate sense.

Half the team had been working through the night, in one way or another, and in one part of the train or another, including in the first-class car about eight of us shared. We slept in shifts, climbing into bunks, shutting the curtains, and doing our best to sleep through the activity we could sense, if not often hear, right on the other side of that thin protection of cloth.

I suspected Black might’ve been more successful in his attempt to sleep than I was, given how alert and sharp his voice sounded when he lifted his head.

“Where?” he asked.

I pulled open the drapes since I was closest, and so he could speak to Alisha face-to-face.

“They got off in Nice,” she said at once, blinking and blushing when she saw we were both still under the covers. “They disembarked around two minutes ago. It’s still only Jem and the girl. I haven’t seen any sign of… well, anyone else.”

Her eyes dropped back to the tablet she held.

She had the virtual component on, so I could see the faint outline of a Barrier signature moving like water above the screen. I knew that had to come from the infiltration team, back in San Francisco, or perhaps Yarli, who was supposed to be heading our way.

“Can we track them here?” Black asked.

Alisha nodded, still blushing faintly and avoiding looking at us directly, even though we were both fully clothed.

“Thanks to Nick’s friends in the French intelligence service, I’m already tied into the camera system in Nice,” she explained. “I’m watching them right now… they’re walking inside the train station. But Nick’s friend, Jean, says we’ll probably lose them once they get on the street. This isn’t like Paris. They don’t have much surveillance here… certainly nothing like San Francisco or London. I’m hoping satellite images can fill in the gaps, but Jean said he’d talk to the localgendarmes,see about possibly releasing a drone.”

“Show me.” Black yanked the blanket off his legs and half-climbed over me in sweat shorts and a blue T-shirt.

I made a few disgruntled noises, but mostly tried to get out of his way. Only after he was completely out of bed and standing in the middle of the room, staring down at the screen between Alisha’s hands, did I sit up on my own. I set my feet on the thin carpet of the floor and shivered, even as I pulled the blankets the rest of the way off my legs.

I wore a tank top and flannel shorts, so I was immediately cold.

Exhaling, I pulled myself up off the bed until I stood there, mostly vertical. I wanted coffee. My hair still smelled like smoke from the bombing the day before, and my skin felt gritty. My mouth tasted like I’d gargled bad milk.

I desperately needed to brush my teeth.

I also desperately wanted a shower.

Black glanced at me.

“Take one,” he urged. He looked at Alisha. “We’re at least an hour out, aren’t we?”

“One hour, twelve minutes,” she affirmed.

Black looked at me again. “Go ahead, doc. You didn’t take one before you went to bed last night, so it’s your turn. I’ll fill you in when you get out.”

I didn’t have to be told twice.

Black handed me a coffee the instant I emerged from the steam-filled bathroom, still rubbing my wet hair with a towel. I felt like a new person.

I’d already thrown on jeans, a cropped T-shirt, and socks.

I took the cappuccino Black offered me, took a few heavenly sips, and set the cup down on the small dresser built into the wall. I tied my wet hair back in a bun at the top of my head, pulled a light sweater over my head, and picked the coffee up again. I sat down on the couch which had been our bed until Black, or someone, I suppose, had folded it back into its daytime configuration as a couch.

I took another sip of the coffee, and leaned my head against the couch’s backrest with a contented sigh.

“You are a prince,” I informed him.

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