Emily stared at the rove, surprised. That was a mouthful for a rove that was supposed to be evil and all. Even Dad looked unsure of how to respond to that. The guy had just told them his whole plan. If they’d been sitting there in the car seemingly doing nothing, it wasn’t because they were actually helpless.
The Alfreds probably planned to tear the defenses to pieces and abduct Emily’s whole group, or maybe kill everyone and abduct Emily and Michael. Since Emily saw no way out of this, she found herself becoming very reliant on the fact they had a contingency plan.
“Why are you doing this?” Dad asked. He had no other threats to issue.
The young man looked at him, surprised. “Are you serious?” Instead of waiting for Dad to reply, he went on talking. “Like, we’re trying to end the world and stuff. How can you keep asking us what we want?”
Dad held his tongue.
The young man growled. “If that’s how you want to play it, no qualms. We want your pretty daughter over there.” He pointed at Emily, who couldn’t help but blush a little. “And we want the vigilante chief’s son, who’s dozing off in one of the upper rooms.”
Emily instantly saw what the young man was doing. He had just shown them that he knew who everyone was. He knew their families, and he could resort to blackmail if it became necessary. He also revealed to them—whether wittingly or unwittingly, Emily had no idea—that he could see right through the field. He might not be able to pass through, but he could see right through it.
“You’re not getting my daughter,” Dad snarled. He gripped his gun tightly.
Emily fluttered. It was not a good idea to shoot someone at point-blank range, even if they were a rove. How were you going to explain to the local PD—or the FBI—that they were threatening you?
The young man wasn’t bothered by Dad’s gun. Only gave the gun one lazy look and then smirked. “Are you seriously going to shoot an unarmed teenager in front of your house?” Then he paused, his eyes losing focus. His smile broadened. “I have a better idea. Why don’t I call the authorities and tell them you’re hoarding meth in your house?”
Emily didn’t bother to hide the confusion on her face. What? Where was he going with this?
“When they come here tomorrow morning, or later in the night, with a search warrant, and find some evidence, they’ll arrest you. They’ll bring you out of the shield, where we’ll be waiting to whisk you out of their arms. We won’t even have to bring down the barrier.”
He was grinning from ear to ear.
What a doofus.
Dad appeared to be unsure of how to answer that one.
“So, what will it be, Mr. Davies?” asked the young man.
Dad’s knuckles were already white by now. His anger was as palpable as the smell of smoke that still pervaded the air. Emily half-expected Dad to lunge for the man’s neck, an action that would have cost them dearly.
“You think this is a joke?” Dad yelled, stumbling another half an inch forward.
The young man laughed. “Isn’t everything a joke?” But his expression then suddenly became serious. “Aren’t you a joke? Isn’t your little attempt to even converse with me a joke? Isn’t your petty defense system a joke?”
Emily knew she had to intervene; otherwise, Dad was going to get himself caught or killed, just because he wouldn’t be able to resist throttling this idiotic young magician. “Dad, maybe you should come inside . . .”
“Yeah, Mr. Davies, listen to your daughter.” The young man . . . Just. Kept. Smirking. “After all, you’re her little bitch.”
Emily felt the insult tear through her mind like a whip steeped in pepper. What the hell was wrong with this guy!? She moved before Dad had the chance to react. When she got within range, she grabbed her father’s collar and yanked backward. At the same time, Dad lunged forward with his hands reaching for the young man’s neck. She couldn’t even blame him at that point. She wanted to do the same thing.
The backward and forward motions canceled each other out, leaving Dad standing there in front of the young man, who had unwittingly revealed his plan by stretching forth his hand to pull Dad. Instead, his hands caught in the force field again, and he was roasted by a thousand and something joules of electricity. Ha. Take that.
Both John and Emily Davies watched in surprise as the young man shrieked in pain.
“Dad, you need to go inside now,” Emily insisted. “You’re going to get us all killed!”
Dad glared at her, and she glared back. She wasn’t going to back down. He had to get his emotions in check; otherwise, he was of no use to her. She would not allow him to jeopardize their current safety.
“I cannot let you risk this temporary haven we have.” Emily’s voice was tight and on edge. She spoke above the shrieks of the young rove who still struggled to free himself from the grip of the defense system.
“You need to remove yourself from this environment, now.” Emily folded her arms at her chest.
Dad held her tight gaze for what felt like a full minute. After, he hissed, swiveled on his heels, and stomped back into the house.
“Very adult of you, Dad.” Emily rolled her eyes and groaned. “Thanks a lot.”
11
Just as Dad went inside, the young rove was able to pull himself free from the electric hold of the defense field. He collapsed on his butt again, smoke puffing off his bare skin and shrouding him in a field of white.
Emily patiently waited for him to recover. During this
