Dog with a Bone by Hailey Edwards Page B

think.”

Chapter Fifteen
    N o two ways about it. The Richardsons knew we were coming. Even if they hadn’t figured out I had decommissioned their guard worm, it stood to reason that if the annuli had first become aware of our presence because we had tripped a perimeter spell, then the Richardsons also knew of the breach.
    Yet for all that, the walk was uneventful. The most excitement we had was dodging cow patties.
    A warm breeze ruffled my hair, drying the sweat running down my nape. The hike into cow country did my foot good. It stopped aching, but the skin felt too tight, like the time Andrea dumped a bottle of Elmer’s over my toes then sprinkled an entire box of emerald glitter over the top.
    Hey, when you’re five and don’t have access to nail polish, bad things can happen.
    That flicker of memory, even though it was a happy one, pierced my heart. Andrea, my first best friend, dead because of me, because she was the first to touch the light kindling in my hand.
    “Is your foot hurting?” Shaw rested his hand between my shoulder blades.
    “No.” I rubbed the tender center of my chest. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
    The look he shot me called me ten kinds of liar, but he didn’t press me.
    “The dot didn’t look so far away on the map,” I grumbled.
    “We’re almost there.” His steps were light, his expression clear. Almost serene. Tense as he had been the whole trip, for days really, I doubted the annuli’s demise was the reason for his newfound calm. “Keep up.”
    As he set off ahead of me, I hung back admiring the view. The man knew how to wear jeans, and his shirt was missing a six-inch strip around the bottom where he had ripped it before using it to gag me. The dirty thoughts his rear view and peekaboo abs inspired caused a light bulb to flash over my head.
    No wonder Shaw was Mr. Zen. He had fed. A lot. On me .
    He was at peace, if only for a little while, and I had given that to him. He had helped me out too. Without him, I would still be flying as high as a kite and batting at the clouds like a kitten on catnip.
    “Take a look at this.” Shaw stood with his hands resting on his hips, staring at something on the ground the high grass hid from me. He kicked out his boot, and metal clanged. “I think we found it.”
    “I think you’re right,” I agreed as a three-by-six-foot steel door inset into a concrete pad came into view. The surface was smooth. Its hinges must be to the inside. The handle, and there must be one, was hidden. Two feet of concrete framed the door. Sod covered the rest of the concrete lid, giving us no clue how much hollow mass spread beneath us. All we had was an access point we couldn’t, well, access.
    “Stand back and keep watch,” Shaw ordered. “I’m going to find the intake vent.”
    Twenty yards away he whistled and knelt. Rising onto my tiptoes, I shielded my eyes against the glare from a whirling silver turbine.
    From here, Shaw looked like any guy resting on his knees in the grass, but the tingle in my nose told me the truth. Standing slightly downwind from his position meant his lure drifted past on the edge of my periphery. His scent made sweat bead on my forehead and roll into my eyes.
    Never had it occurred to me to wonder where his scent glands were, how his lure was produced. If he kept this up much longer, I would be forced to explore answers to those questions with my tongue.
    Snap out of it.
    I held my breath until I regained coordination of my limbs then eased out of the path of his enticing scent.
    With a tight nod at me, he stood and dusted off his jeans. His first order of business was punting the spinning turbine downfield. Sound wasn’t a concern as he crushed the base with his heel. Taking off the shredded remains of his shirt, he balled the fabric and shoved it down the tube before kicking dirt into the hole. The air shaft was clogged. Even if they had a second intake, the circulation was hampered, sealing the Richardsons in with the