grateful look.
"Here," she whispered.
When she'd brought him from his world to hers, he'd been too sick to watch what she was doing. Now he tried to follow the steps, but it looked like she was working mumbo jumbo.
He listened to the footsteps coming closer, wanting to yell at her to hurry.
But he knew he'd only distract her—and alert the bad guys.
Finally, after what felt like centuries, a portion of the wall began to waver. What he saw on the other side made him blink, and he tried to figure out where it was. Not out in the woods.
"How do you know it's my world?" he demanded.
"I don't. Not for sure. But I think that's what it is."
When the wall disappeared, Rinna grabbed his arm, urging him through but kept in back of him.
"Do you have some idea of staying here?" he growled, turning to hold on to her so that he could pull her through with him.
She didn't protest, and he suspected she'd only been trying to get him to safety first. Damn the woman.
Once they stepped through, she turned to reverse the process. He also turned. Through the doorway, he saw a man's arm and leg coming around the corner of the wall.
The breath froze in his lungs, and he tensed for another battle. Hell, it seemed like very time he turned around in this world, he was fighting someone off.
What would it be like to grow up in such an environment?
To his vast relief, the wall solidified before the soldier came around the corner. Or at least Logan hoped that was what had happened.
Agonizing seconds ticked by. When the wall stayed solid, Logan breamed out a sigh. They were back in the United States of America—he hoped.
IN the basement of the old cathedral, Calag studied the marks in the dust. The man and woman he sought had been here. They'd walked around on the ground level, then come down the stairs, probably looking for a hiding place.
But they'd come up again so that the trail was messed up.
His men were searching now. Twelve trained fighters and two with extra talents—Balfer and Darnet. He'd kept those two with him while the others spread out.
When he stood still and concentrated, he was pretty sure that the fugitives were no longer in the area. But his psychic powers were minimal, which was why he was leading a group of Falcone's soldiers rather than sitting with him at the dining room table like that old fart Avery.
Still, Balfer and Darnet had qualified at the second level of training. Not a great recommendation, but maybe good enough for his purposes.
He looked at the two men. "I think they're not here. But see if you can tell me where they went."
They both saluted, then stood still for several seconds, looking like they were listening. Darnet walked to the shelves of clothing and began fingering the garments, trying to get an impression from something one of the fugitives had touched. Balfer walked into the other room.
Calag watched him retreat, wanting to give more specific directions. But he'd learned not to interfere. He could break the man's train of thought, and some twinge of information he might have picked up might be gone.
So Calag crossed his arms and stood rigidly to keep from tapping his foot in impatience, staring at the oil lamps the fugitives had left on the shelves.
He didn't have one of those things you wore on your wrist to tell time. But he had been taught about seconds ticking by. And he had learned to count silently in his head.
He reckoned that about five minutes passed before Balfer returned. His face was tense.
"You lost them?"
The man pressed his hands against his sides and looked down at the floor. He had been born a slave and he was always ready for punishment.
"Speak up!" Calag snapped.
"I think they went through the portal."
"Carfolian Hell!"
"Can we go after them?"
"We should get authorization. Can you send a message back to Sun Acres?"
"We're too far away for me to make the contact by myself. But I think Darnet and I can do it together."
Calag thought about his options. If he
"Here," she whispered.
When she'd brought him from his world to hers, he'd been too sick to watch what she was doing. Now he tried to follow the steps, but it looked like she was working mumbo jumbo.
He listened to the footsteps coming closer, wanting to yell at her to hurry.
But he knew he'd only distract her—and alert the bad guys.
Finally, after what felt like centuries, a portion of the wall began to waver. What he saw on the other side made him blink, and he tried to figure out where it was. Not out in the woods.
"How do you know it's my world?" he demanded.
"I don't. Not for sure. But I think that's what it is."
When the wall disappeared, Rinna grabbed his arm, urging him through but kept in back of him.
"Do you have some idea of staying here?" he growled, turning to hold on to her so that he could pull her through with him.
She didn't protest, and he suspected she'd only been trying to get him to safety first. Damn the woman.
Once they stepped through, she turned to reverse the process. He also turned. Through the doorway, he saw a man's arm and leg coming around the corner of the wall.
The breath froze in his lungs, and he tensed for another battle. Hell, it seemed like very time he turned around in this world, he was fighting someone off.
What would it be like to grow up in such an environment?
To his vast relief, the wall solidified before the soldier came around the corner. Or at least Logan hoped that was what had happened.
Agonizing seconds ticked by. When the wall stayed solid, Logan breamed out a sigh. They were back in the United States of America—he hoped.
IN the basement of the old cathedral, Calag studied the marks in the dust. The man and woman he sought had been here. They'd walked around on the ground level, then come down the stairs, probably looking for a hiding place.
But they'd come up again so that the trail was messed up.
His men were searching now. Twelve trained fighters and two with extra talents—Balfer and Darnet. He'd kept those two with him while the others spread out.
When he stood still and concentrated, he was pretty sure that the fugitives were no longer in the area. But his psychic powers were minimal, which was why he was leading a group of Falcone's soldiers rather than sitting with him at the dining room table like that old fart Avery.
Still, Balfer and Darnet had qualified at the second level of training. Not a great recommendation, but maybe good enough for his purposes.
He looked at the two men. "I think they're not here. But see if you can tell me where they went."
They both saluted, then stood still for several seconds, looking like they were listening. Darnet walked to the shelves of clothing and began fingering the garments, trying to get an impression from something one of the fugitives had touched. Balfer walked into the other room.
Calag watched him retreat, wanting to give more specific directions. But he'd learned not to interfere. He could break the man's train of thought, and some twinge of information he might have picked up might be gone.
So Calag crossed his arms and stood rigidly to keep from tapping his foot in impatience, staring at the oil lamps the fugitives had left on the shelves.
He didn't have one of those things you wore on your wrist to tell time. But he had been taught about seconds ticking by. And he had learned to count silently in his head.
He reckoned that about five minutes passed before Balfer returned. His face was tense.
"You lost them?"
The man pressed his hands against his sides and looked down at the floor. He had been born a slave and he was always ready for punishment.
"Speak up!" Calag snapped.
"I think they went through the portal."
"Carfolian Hell!"
"Can we go after them?"
"We should get authorization. Can you send a message back to Sun Acres?"
"We're too far away for me to make the contact by myself. But I think Darnet and I can do it together."
Calag thought about his options. If he
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