The Dream Thief, Kari Kilgore [reading well TXT] 📗

his head, pushing curly hair back off of his forehead.

"I don't know what you think you're going to get out of me," he said. "But I do want answers. Pack up your kit. Keep your hands in sight. If that goes well, we'll see about going somewhere else."

Loretta watched as he picked up one of the knives and got to his feet. He slipped it into his belt and held the club and the hypo. He stood even taller than she'd thought.

If he had any kind of brain to go with those broad shoulders, he could be a fierce ally, indeed. She turned toward her tools.

"Bloody Crown, look at this mess!" she cried.

"Keep your voice down, we don't... Oh. I'm... I hope it's not broken."

The tripod was in the grass with the legs collapsed, and the Dragon was about a foot away. Loretta's guts clenched at the thought of any of it being broken. She had a rare moment of not wanting to find out, of wanting to pretend none of this had ever happened. She scrambled closer and picked up the Dragon.

"I should slit your throat for this," she said.

"Look, I didn't mean to break whatever it is," he said. Big as he was, he sounded about five years old. "No one will be slitting anyone's throat. Let's get it picked up and see if it's okay."

"No, don't you touch it. Stay back. Just stay there."

She picked up the Dragon, afraid to even run her hands over it until she had better light. She rotated it enough to fit into the case and gently put it in. Loretta ran her fingers over the grass, hoping the gyro-compass hadn't gone far.

"Is part of it missing?" he said.

"I don't know," she said. "I can't tell. I need to find something else. Don't panic. It’s not a weapon."

When her fingers finally brushed over the gyro, Loretta wished it were a weapon instead. The delicate centerpiece was snapped, and she could feel several of the wires had been broken when the two ends separated. She'd never be able to get everything realigned.

"I can get the tripod," he said in a quiet voice.

"Don't touch it! You've done enough damage already. Stand still, okay?"

She heard the huge man sigh again and shook her head. What a Build night this had turned out to be. Not one single thing finished, one of her most crucial tools broken, and now this stranger was determined to follow her around.

Even if she could get past that club, she'd have a hell of a time disposing of a body this big out in the open. Loretta carefully put the twisted compass into her pack, then collapsed the tripod. Thankfully all of its pieces still moved properly.

"Don't forget that other knife," he said. "Someone will find it for certain."

Loretta stared at him, wishing she could see his face. He could easily outreach her, and the club was a lot more effective than her cane. Still, reminding her to grab another weapon said a lot about his confidence, just as much as not wanting it to be found did about his brains. He could come in very handy.

"It's about a ten-minute walk," she said, getting to her feet. "Neither one of us is going to trust the other, so we'll just split the difference and walk side by side."

"Fine. It's darkest in the middle of the street."

Very handy indeed.

Neither of them spoke on the quick walk to her house, and nothing else moved in Waldron's Gate. Loretta needed to know more about him before she could decide if he was worth the risk. She had to get him safely past Bess to have a chance of that.

Her most loyal guard was understandably more paranoid after hearing even the bare minimum about Rhysto. Walking up on the porch unnoticed would be impossible. Responding to the challenge without the man beside her noticing she had a guard—beyond unusual in their proper, perfect city—would probably be equally difficult.

He'd already been the first person to notice Loretta after a decade.

"You can't simply walk into my house," she said.

"Loyal husband waiting at home?"

"No." Loretta watched him. "Loyal guard."

He stopped, adjusting his grip on the club but not raising it.

"I'm not going one more step," he said, "and neither are you until I know a little more. Why should you need a guard? To keep you in or to keep me out?"

"That's not quite what I expected you to ask," Loretta said, trying her best not to smile. "This one is to keep you out, I assure you. My turn. To get you past her, I'll have to know your name or something close to it."

"Karl Gilmore. Yours?"

He'd spoken too quickly to make something up. Loretta had more than one identity she could easily assume, but now was not the time. She would either be working with Karl Gilmore, or he would not survive the night.

"Loretta Schofield. I can't say I'm pleased to meet you, but here we are. We're going to the last house on the right. I'd appreciate it if you wait on the sidewalk until I speak to my guard."

"Sorry," he said. "Don't think so. One or both of you might have a blaster, and I'd be an easy target. I'll walk up if it's all the same to you."

"It isn't, but I'm not going to argue the point. Stay to my right, and keep still if you want to see another day."

She turned to the left, where her guard would be watching. After a few seconds, Bess stood beside her. The black uniform and silent movement made the woman’s appearance seemingly from nowhere even more startling.

"Ma'am."

"This is Karl Gilmore," Loretta said. "He's an invited guest. I've had some equipment problems, so I'm afraid I'm in for the night."

Bess glanced at Karl.

"He's armed, ma'am."

"Yes," Loretta said. "He knows both of us are too. I'll alert you to any trouble."

"Very well."

Bess disappeared again without a sound. When Loretta turned to Karl, he