I explained the situation while Daniel went over to talk to another cop. After a few minutes, he returned with some new information. “We have an address, Mr. and Mrs. Santini. It’s near Seabrook, not far over the state line. Two officers checked on her there, and she’s all right. She’s a little scared and wants to come home, but Gravett wouldn’t dare do anything to mistreat her.”
Not yet, I thought. Not until her legal status was resolved. But I couldn’t say that in front of Gwen.
“You know where she is?” Nick said. “So go get her and bring her home.”
“New Hampshire doesn’t recognize PA rights, Mr. Santini. We can’t just go in and take her; we have to determine her classification.”
“Why?” Gwen wailed. “You’re acting like my daughter is . . . is that woman’s property.”
“In New Hampshire, I’m afraid that’s what the law considers her to be.”
Gwen screamed. Her knees sagged, and her face was dead white.
“Daniel, don’t,” I said. “We don’t know yet how the law will play out. Kane will be all over this when he gets back.” But that wouldn’t be until Monday—and I had no intention of waiting that long. God, what a time for a full moon.
“I’ll get my lawyer on it right now,” Nick began, then Gwen collapsed at his feet. He crouched down and held her, speaking softly.
“Take Gwen home first, Nick. And the boys.” He looked up like he was going to argue with me, but he must have seen something in my expression, because he nodded.
When Nick had loaded his family into a taxi and left, I turned to Daniel. “Where is she? I want the address.” I was already calculating how long it’d take to get to the garage and pick up the Jag before I could drive north. But—damn it all. The garage closed at noon on Saturdays. Well, that didn’t matter. I’d break in if I had to.
“Vicky, you can’t go charging off to New Hampshire. It’s too dangerous.” He put his hand on my arm. “They’re not doing anything to her right now.”
I shook him off. “You expect me to sit around while my ten-year-old niece is being held captive by that madwoman?”
“Slow down a minute. You drive a distinctive car. The New Hampshire cops know what’s going on—they’ll be watching for you. You won’t make it a mile past the border.”
He was right. Okay, so the Jag was out. I’d break into the garage and steal somebody else’s car. Nothing was going to stop me from getting to Maria.
“Think about a young girl,” I said, “locked in a strange room, crying for her mother. Think about a state that won’t help her because they define her as property. She’s a little girl, Daniel. And she’s not going to stay with those bastards any longer than it takes for me to get her the hell out of there.”
“I can’t let you run off to a state where you have fewer rights than an animal.”
“Listen—”
“But I can drive you there.” He flashed a quick smile and jerked his head sideways. “Let’s go.”
THE ROADS WERE PACKED, AND WE WERE GETTING NOWHERE. Under good conditions, it takes nearly an hour to drive from Boston up into southern New Hampshire, but conditions were lousy. It felt like it took us an hour just to get across the Tobin Bridge into Chelsea. I checked my watch. Not an hour, but a very long twenty minutes.
When Daniel saw me check the time, he rolled down his window and reached under his seat. He pulled out a rotator light and stuck it on the roof of the car, then plugged it into the cigarette lighter. Splashes of blue light washed across the hood. He glanced over at me and shrugged. “I’m not supposed to do this, but . . .” He flipped a switch and a siren blared.
Cars began to pull over, and we got moving. Daniel weaved in and out of the lanes, picking up speed, coming up close behind the cars that wouldn’t get out of the way and leaning on the horn to make them move. He was a good driver, tightly focused on the road. I let him drive. I looked out the window and watched the triple-deckers and convenience stores give way to strip malls, Cineplexes, and car dealers. When those thinned out, replaced by trees, traffic grew lighter. He turned off the siren and unplugged the light.
We drove the next several miles in silence. Then Daniel scratched his head and looked at me. “I don’t understand why your sister let that crazy doctor examine her kids in the first place.”
“Gravett led Gwen to believe that she could do some tests to determine whether Maria is fully human or demi-human. She was lying. If Maria is Cerddorion, her DNA will actually change when she reaches puberty and gains the ability to shift. Until then, there’s no way to know.”
“So why did Gwen believe her?”
I sighed. “Gwen is ashamed of her heritage. More than anything she wants Maria to be a human girl. She wants her daughter to grow up normal, giggling about boys and hanging out at the mall, not trying to control her moods so she won’t shift into a warthog or a monkey.” Of course, getting kidnapped by a mad scientist wasn’t exactly part of a normal human childhood, either. “Gwen hoped Gravett could find a cure. That’s what she called it: a ‘cure.’ That wishful thinking must be killing my sister right now.”
Daniel steered into the left lane to pass an eighteen-wheeler. When we were past it, he said, “If there’s no difference between human and Cerddorion DNA at her age, then the courts will have to rule that she’s human.”
“Maybe. There’s no precedent for a case like this.” Again, I wished Kane were here. He’d be filing motions left and right. “Anyway, I’m not waiting around for the courts to settle anything. I’m taking her home.”
He nodded. We passed the exit for Byfield. Only about ten miles to the state border.
“You do realize,” Daniel said, “that Gravett might be setting a trap for you, using your niece as bait.”
“That doesn’t matter.” I had been thinking about it, though. There was a high likelihood that she’d try. As soon as I crossed the state line into New Hampshire, I’d lose the few rights I had in Massachusetts. Gravett could grab me and then, even if the courts made her return Maria, she’d have me as her own personal guinea pig. “She’s already tried to snatch me once.”
Daniel glanced sideways at me. “When?”
“Two days ago. Thursday. I got a distress call from a fake client at a bogus address. When I showed up there, three guys in ski masks jumped out of a van and tried to kidnap me. It was black van, the same one as today.” I felt a twinge of guilt for thinking Kane had set that up.
“Jesus, I’m glad you weren’t hurt. How did you get away?”
“I shifted into a panther and mauled one of them.”
He turned and stared at me, mouth open. I met his gaze.
A horn blared as we drifted into the other lane. Daniel whipped his head around and jerked the wheel. After that, he kept his eyes on the road. We moved smoothly forward, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
“It’s what I am, Daniel.”
He nodded but didn’t reply. I watched the bare trees go by.
When Daniel spoke again, his voice was thoughtful. “So that’s why you missed our appointment on Thursday. I thought I’d done something wrong.” He ducked his head. “Or that you just plain didn’t like me.”
“I like you, Daniel, but . . .”
“But what?”
But you’re married and you didn’t bother to mention it. “Nothing. This isn’t something to talk about now.”
“You’re right.”
There didn’t seem to be anything to talk about right now. The white lines flashed toward us, disappeared, flashed and disappeared, marking off the miles that would bring us to Maria. But Daniel pulled off at the Amesbury exit, still in Massachusetts.