A steep silence followed Xander’s speech. For a second, I thought that Angela had decided to fuck off and hang up the phone. But she proved me wrong. “Annie is… she’s not okay. She’s distanced herself from society. I only hear from her once a month, when she makes it into town and finds a phone to use. If you want to speak with her, you’ll have to pay her a visit. But… sir, she’s lying about this story.” Angela spoke slowly and clearly. “I don’t know what happened that day, but a giant river monster didn’t kill my brother.”
“Who did?” I asked, knowing that she would say Annie.
“Either his friend Gladas, because Andy wouldn’t allow our sister to date him—but I don’t even believe that—or he just drowned, and Annie was high, unwilling or unable to save him. I think that when she sobered up and realized what had happened, something in her mind snapped. Out of remorse or embarrassment, she made up that story, then disappeared from this world.”
“Where did she disappear to?” Xander asked. “I appreciate your willingness to speak with us, but as I said, it would be most productive to speak with Annabel herself. Where could I find her?”
Angela allowed the silence to stretch again. After a few seconds, she gave us directions.
10
If you follow the American River far enough east, it leads straight to Folsom Lake. It’s a perfect place to have picnics on the shore, go on a hike, jet-ski, wakeboard, or pervert around and check out some beach bodies.
We drove right past the lake and headed southeast.
The river split in two directions from the lake—North Fork American River and South Fork American River. I know. The naming was clever. How they decided on those names… it’s beyond my simple abilities to imagine. We followed along the southern stream for a solid hour. Cityscape turned to forest.
“This might sound like a joke,” I said. “So, please, don’t take it the wrong way… because it’s not a joke. Are you planning to kill me way out here? Did I say or do something wrong?”
Xander smirked, but he never took his eyes from the road. That non-answer didn’t help me feel better about driving to the middle of nowhere. After another twenty minutes of some pretty tense silence, we pulled onto an unpaved side road that wiggled through the dense forest. The economy-sized car wasn’t equipped to handle the uneven, potholed path, bouncing us around like beads in a maraca. Pine trees needled above us into the blue, sunny sky.
Xander parked the car at the dead end and cut the engine. He reached into the backseat, grabbing a duffle bag and dragging it onto his lap. “They aren’t imbued, but they’re something,” he said, unzipping the bag and revealing a cache of guns. “In case we’re walking into a trap.”
Don’t tell him I said this, but I really liked that about Xander—his willingness to carry guns wherever he went. It was about the only thing I liked about him. Well, I guess I liked that he was uglier and stupider and less funny than me. Those traits really worked in my favor when he stood beside me while hitting on the ladies.
I bit my lip, realizing I’d left my babies in their bed back at Xander’s office. Scarred with Nephilim runes, they probably wouldn’t have fired magic, anyway.
“Joey,” Xander said. “You there?”
“I’m here,” I said. “Just thinking about how my twins might never run again.”
“Why?”
“Well, for starters, they can’t be fired normally—only through magical means. For finishers, those magical means must be through my magical signature—which was defined by the pact Hephaestus provided me. I no longer have access to that pact.” I leaned my head on the passenger window and stared out at the trees and the dirt.
Xander inhaled. “Not that again. Why are you thinking about that? You have a new form of magic. Explore that. Invest in a focus for that. Carve new runes for that. You should be thinking about your potential, not your loss…” he trailed off for a beat. “Sorry.”
Callie first, then Mel, and now my guns. I’d had those death-gifting beauties since graduating from Militus University and accepting Hephaestus pact. Eleven years now. Shit. They’d be starting middle school next year. So much life ahead of them. So much potential. And just like Hecate had stolen Mel, Hephaestus had taken those away from me.
“I spent all morning cleaning them,” I said, still staring out the passenger window. “And for what? They’ll never shout for joy again. They’ll never blow apart a monster’s stupid-looking face. I was giving a bath to corpses, like a fucking psychopath.”
Xander glanced at me and wrinkled his brow. I could see his reflection off the window, could read his eyes. They said I was too dramatic and overreactive. “You’re sure you can’t alter the runes?”
I scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure. If an Acolyte could alter runes, they’d be stealing other Acolyte’s focuses all the time, changing them. The Nephilim language doesn’t come with an eraser. Once written, it’s written.”
“And why can’t it recognize your new magic? The shadow magic?”
“It’s a different signature,” I said. “A different property or element or whatever. Hephaestus imbued me with fire, and this is shadow. Poseidon’s Acolytes wouldn’t be able to charge Zeus’s runes with their energy any more than I could with my magic.” I sat up straight and placed a hand on the door handle. “Besides, it’s not a Nephil-given power. Since I didn’t consciously accept
