Lined cells. I hadn’t considered what it would take to confine Magicals, but there must be far more than bars and locks wherever Malvyn had taken the Flechettes.
“Mom?” Thatcher hadn’t moved, other than to raise an arm and show me his wrist. “Look.”
The braided bracelet Sallie made for him was coming apart, the ends actively un-twining until the strands fell to the floor, sizzling.
“Bring me her purse and go get the paper towels,” I said, “and a plastic trash bag. Under the sink.”
The contents of Sallie’s bag spilled out when Thatch dropped it, but nothing looked suspicious. Rowan held Sallie’s hair away from her face, as Kaz and the other three men crouched around the girl. I shook out the purse before squeezing the sides, bottom, and cover flap, looking for something, anything, that would explain the seizure-like activity.
I curled my fingers around Sallie’s neckpiece, a black leather dog collar with burnished metal spikes and two faux owner tags. A faint sensation like a constrictor snake preparing to coil and squeeze ran across my skin. I extended my arm. “I saw Sallie wearing this at the market the day I met Tanner. Could it be spelled?”
“She took it off last night, Mom, after Mal and James left.” Thatcher nudged Kaz and Wes aside and crouched near Sallie’s head. He tore off a handful of paper towels, wiped her face first and then the floor, and bagged the mess without flinching or gagging. Going to his feet and hurrying to the kitchen trash, he said, “Please don’t let her die.”
I darted glances to Rowan and the others. “Is there even a chance of her dying from whatever this is?”
“Either she wears the collar to keep her glamour intact, or someone—most likely her parents—makes her wear it. It could be an ornament that assists with self-control, or it could function as a controlling element,” said Tanner.
“She made my bracelet.” Thatcher returned and sat, cross-legged, at Sallie’s head. “But she didn’t make the collar. She told me her parents made her wear it. She hates it. It’s real leather. And she doesn’t eat meat. She made our bracelets out of that vegan leather stuff.”
“I can stay and take care of Sallie.” Rowan spoke to Thatch. “Can you help me?”
He nodded, jaw muscles clenching, his gaze never leaving his cousin’s pale face.
We turned Thatcher’s room into a mini-medical ward. Rowan put in a call to a witch who specialized in working with the fluctuating hormones of magical teenagers. She added her suspicion that Sallie was going through a kind of withdrawal from whatever influence the collar provided. By the time the teen was tucked into Thatch’s bed, she was awake but groggy, with a death grip on my son’s arm and the occasional fingernail extending and sharpening into a pointed claw. When that happened, Thatch slid one of his fingers between the claw and his skin, much like one would do with a cat kneading a blanket with too much enthusiasm.
I backed out of the room, closed the door, and ticked off everyone’s whereabouts on my fingers as I returned to the first floor.
River, Rose, and Belle were with Peasgood and Hyslop at the Pearmains’. Malvyn was in Vancouver with Josiah and Garnet. James was ensconced at the Brodeur house with Leilani and Harper. Rowan, Sallie, and Thatcher were upstairs.
That left Tanner, Kaz, and Wes. And me. And Christoph, who was nowhere in sight.
“I want to go with you three,” I said. “I feel like there’s not much I can do here.” I patted my chest and spoke to Tanner. “I can keep wearing the pouch. Or leave it here or…”
He blanched a bit and shook his head. “Keep it on you. Hide it under your clothes. Please.”
“You could leave it with me.” Christoph’s sudden appearance unnerved me. I held tight to my T-shirt and the pouch with one hand. “I won’t leave the property, and if that pouch contains what I think it does, I would prefer my granddaughter be kept out of whatever is going on between you,” he glared at Tanner, “and this Apple Witch.”
Wow. This is what is was like to have an adult family member at your back. Literally. Christoph’s hand was on my shoulder, and his feathers pressed against the bared skin of my arm.
Tanner made to respond.
Kaz coughed into his fist. “I understand your hesitancy, Tanner, and though I can vouch for Christoph, I think it best the pouch stays with either you or Calliope or is placed somewhere secure.”
Slipping a couple fingers under the braided leather, I lifted the pouch and bounced it in my palm. The two halves were stitched together with crossing leather laces and polished to a high sheen. The cords were embedded in opposite corners. I’d spent a lot of time wondering about its contents.
Now that I knew seeds to the Apples of Immortality waited inside, the modest leather carrier seemed almost too simple a container for the weight of its great task.
“Thanks for the offer, Christoph. I’ve got an idea where I can stash this.” I repositioned the pouch under my T-shirt, glanced at Tanner, and tilted my head away toward the hall. He followed me toward my bedroom and grabbed my wrist.
“Calli,” he said, his voice cracking. He winced when the backs of his shoulders touched the wall. “Can we talk?”
I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to kiss. I really, really wanted to kiss. I wanted our kisses to wipe away our first mini-fight. Yet, after everything that had gone down in the past twelve hours, especially between him and Jessamyne, I didn’t think I could.
Tanner’s role in all of this was beginning to feel far bigger than I would ever know. Either that, or what we were all getting into was more far-reaching than I first believed.
My throat was
