He would have been in constant danger, and his secret would have gotten out. But it didn’t, which means he didn’t.”
“Maybe he could control the ability.”
“Maybe he couldn’t.”
“I don’t care what you say,” she grumbled, hating that he was right. Again. “This is the best lead I’ve got.”
“Our definition for the word
“I know.” How irritating! As if she needed his permission. “That’s next on my To Do list.”
“What about his parents?”
“Who, Smart’s?”
Tucker rolled his eyes. “No, moron. Aden’s.”
“What about them?” Their current address was burning a hole in her pocket. Finding them had been first on that To Do list she’d mentioned, in fact, and she’d already crossed it off with shocking ease. A search engine, a (stolen) credit card Tucker had given her, and
They were still local; the shame of abandoning their son, when they might have been the only people in the world who could truly help him, hadn’t driven them away. Were they happy with their decision? Regretful?
She’d debated: call Aden and tell him, or not call Aden? In the end, she’d opted for
“Close up for today,” Tucker said, drawing her back into the conversation, “and let’s find a place to sleep. We’ll head out for…” He paused, waiting.
“Smart’s wife is still here in Tulsa, close to St. Mary’s, the hospital where her husband used to work.” Tulsa, Oklahoma. Which was two hours away from Crossroads, Oklahoma. Two hours away from Riley.
Not that she’d imagined him driving that stretch of highway a thousand times.
“Good.” Tucker nodded. “Did you read the man’s obituary?”
“Yes.”
“Checked out his family?”
“As best as I could.” He’d left the wife behind, but no one else had been mentioned.
“And you have an exact address?”
“No. I thought I’d drive around until a golden ray of sunlight shined down from the heavens and spotlighted the house.”
“Sarcasm again. Not your best look.”
“Then stop asking dumb questions.”
He sighed, the last sane guy in existence. “We’ll drive there in the morning. Does that work for your timetable?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. He stretched out his hand and waved at her. “Come on.”
With a sigh of her own, she placed her hand in his. As he stood, he pulled her to her feet. He helped her into her jacket and tugged her out of the microfiche area. Just before they walked into the main library, someone screamed. A girl. Hush Girl, maybe. Fearing the worst, Mary Ann tried to turn around and see what was going on. Tucker threw his arm around her shoulders and forced her attention straight ahead.
“Believe me. You don’t want to see.”
No attacking witches or fairies, then. “What did you do?” she whispered fiercely. And she knew he’d done something, the turd.
“Let’s just say the snake under her desk is trying to converse with her,” he replied with another wicked grin.
Of course.
They stepped outside, into the moonlight and cold. She tugged the lapels of her jacket closer and glared up at him. “I thought you couldn’t cast illusions when you were so close to me.”
His grin widened, and all she could see was straight white teeth flashing down at her in the darkness. She looked away before she gave into the urge to slap him. Repeatedly. Cars whizzed along the street in a
“Well?” she insisted.
He leaned down, as if sharing a naughty secret. “Let’s just say my skills are going nuclear.”
Or her ability to mute was fading, she thought suddenly, and her eyes widened. Oh, please, please, please, let her ability be fading. If she stopped muting powers, she might stop draining energy, too. And if she stopped, she could see Riley again. Could kiss him again. Could finally—please, finally—do more. Without worry.
“Okay, why did that make you so happy?” Tucker asked, suspicious.
What did he have to be suspicious about? “Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Demon.”
He cleared his throat as if fighting a laugh. “That’s not really an insult for me, you know.”
“I know.” She practically skipped along the concrete. Even the
Tucker had to quicken his step to remain beside her. “What moment?”
“
“Why? There’s nothing special about it.”
“There could be if you shut your mouth.”
This time, he laughed outright. “Remind me why I dated you.”
“No. I’d only throw up in my mouth.”
“Nice, Mary Ann,” he said, but he was still grinning.
“I try.”
FIVE
THE SCREAMS THAT HAD RAZED Aden’s mind for such a torturous eternity ceased abruptly, and he knew only silence. Yet, the silence was worse because, without the distraction, he became aware of a thick, gloomy fog surrounding him, writhing with malicious glee.
Escape, he needed to escape. He would die if he stayed here. Surely the fog would suffocate him. Was even now trying to do so. Determined, he clawed his way through, climbing…climbing…his body broken, throbbing… climbing…climbing…higher and higher until—
His eyelids sprang apart.
First thing he noticed, the fog had dissipated. Still, the world around him was hazy, as though smeared with Vaseline. He sucked in a deep breath to center himself, then growled. There was something sweet in the air, and his mouth watered. His blood heated.
Taste…
Someone called his name. A girl, her voice layered with concern and relief. He blinked, gradually clearing away the film, and sat up, ignoring the aches and pains shooting through him. His gaze panned the…bedroom. Yes, he was inside a bedroom. Or a snowstorm. All that white—white walls, white carpet, white furnishings—was as overwhelming as it was familiar.
A girl approached him, her hands wringing together and twisting the fabric of her black robe. Finally, a shade other than white. Long dark hair cascaded over one delicate shoulder. She had pale skin, smooth and flawless, and the loveliest blue eyes he’d ever seen.
She reached out, slowly, so slow, to feel his brow. The sweetness in the air thickened, and the urge to taste increased. Though he wanted to bite her, he leaned away from her touch.
Hurt consumed her features.
Within seconds, she masked the emotion and squared her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, voice
