As I neared the steep slope, the large, slimy rocks ahead made me wary. I wasn’t fondly anticipating that climb barefoot, and I wasn’t hankering to be dripping wet in the cold night air as I made my way downtown, either, but here I was.
Wading out of the water, I saw a flash of light above, but it disappeared. I tried to wipe the silt from the shreds of my gown. I’d ruined two nice dresses in seventy-two hours. Laughing at myself, I scrambled on, slipping but determined. I was halfway up when I heard someone say, “May I help you?”
I looked up.
Of course it was him. My Arthur, I could count on him.
His shoulders lowered. His eyes softened, expressing the relief that filled him.
I offered him my hand.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Liyliy could barely see out of her filmy eyes.
Consumed with a bitter, malefic rage, she flew. In time, pain wore her down. She tapped a ley and healed herself enough to keep functioning, but some of the damage was permanent. She feared returning to her human form, feared knowing what new curse was hers to own.
The revenge she would reap upon the Lustrata would have to be profound.
Another thought occurred to her.
She would need help . . . and she knew exactly who would want to help her.
At the hotel, despite checking in so late, Johnny was showered and dressed by 7:00 a.m. The gym bag had held dark blue jeans, a white tank undershirt, and a button-front shirt. It was black and had silk-screened eagles and guitars on it. The short sleeves barely hid his armband tattoos.
He shoved the suit into the gym bag and, in the lobby, used the available computer to search the internet. First, he did a local white-pages search for the name Hampton. Among the fewer than six thousand residents of this city—according to Wikipedia—there were no Hamptons.
Undaunted, he began his second search, perusing articles about boys raised without fathers, about absent fathers reappearing in their sons’ lives, and the challenges these men and their sons faced.
The statistics were discouraging, the facts heart wrenching, but Johnny vowed to not screw this up. To be better than the data he’d found.
At 8:45, he checked out, and the guest services lady suggested the Blue Moon Café for breakfast. He thanked her and wondered if she had any idea she’d been talking to a wærewolf.
Sitting in his car, his phone beeped. He had a text from Kirk.
Johnny sighed, eyes shutting momentarily with relief. He’d been so consumed with all that had happened to him in the last twenty hours that Seph’s danger had slipped his mind. He fought back the twinge of guilt with the knowledge that she was okay.
He texted back:
Saranac Lake wasn’t very big, but it seemed like a nice place to grow up in.
The café on Main Street was easy to find. When Johnny parked and walked into the café, the people there quieted. He wondered if they did because they’d seen the news yesterday, or if they just did that to all strangers.
Sitting at the counter, he ordered the Café Steak-and-Eggs and a Tupper Stack of pancakes with two glasses of orange juice. By the time his food was served, the chatter had picked up again, and as he ate, he heard whispering about his car.
One old man wondered too loudly, “Maybe it’s stolen.”
“Stolen?” another questioned.
“A cop’s pulled up to the curb. He’s just sitting there.”
The other man scolded the first, “There’s all kinds of fancy cars ’round here during skiing season.”
“But it ain’t ski season yet. Did you see that fella’s face? He’s got tattoos around his eyes! That’s a shady character, there.”
He glared openly at the man, who hunched into his seat. Johnny shook his head and resumed eating. He was nearly finished when his phone rang. “ ’Lo?”
“John,” Toni said. “You can head over now.”
Johnny downed what remained of his juice, placed a fifty on the counter and headed out. He noted that there was a police car up the road, but it didn’t follow him. A green Crown Victoria seemed to trail him out of town, but it turned off before he arrived at Toni’s house.
From the driveway, he studied the house. In the morning light, the beige aluminum-sided ranch, with black shutters and a brick-red front door, seemed smaller than it had in the dark last night. It was cute and well kept; the many trees were bare, but the lawn had been raked and the leaves tended. The bushes were trimmed, the flowerbeds mulched and ready for the snow that would soon fall.
He shut the car off and dropped the keys in his pocket.
Toni opened the front door before he could knock. “Have a seat. I’ll get him.”
Johnny entered a modest living room with two chairs and a small love seat, as she’d said. All were dark brown and worn. He sat on one of the chairs and noticed that the oval coffee table showed signs of wear and tear on its edges. He understood why when he saw the bin of Hot Wheels under the coffee table.
He swallowed, hard.
“Evan! Come here,” Toni called.
“I’m playing!”
“There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Who?”
“Come here and I’ll introduce you.”
Silence.
More silence.
Toni rolled her eyes and started forward, but Johnny touched her arm. “May I?”
She blinked. Nodded. “Sure.”
Johnny walked down the hall with his heart pounding. The walls and ceiling seemed to be closing in on him, though he told himself it was just a small house. The
The room was a sunny yellow with framed posters of sleek cars. The twin bed was primary red and shaped like a Ferrari. The bedspread was also red. Though there was beige carpeting, a small area rug, made like a city with roads, lay next to the bed. It seemed the rug city was under construction—dump trucks and backhoes were placed along the streets.
The boy lay in the middle of the city on his stomach, feet kicking up and one sock half off his foot. He was positioned away from the door, his attention riveted to some Hot Wheels setup. The boy—
