“Okay, then,” Lily says, handing me the soup as she settles across the table from me. “Let’s think this thing through.”
“I’ve been doing nothing but thinking for the last hour,” I tell her as I spoon up some soup. “I’m no closer to finding the answer than I was when you found me.”
“Yes, but you’re cleaner and steadier now. And you aren’t trying to puke your guts up—all three things help with the advent of rational thought.”
She has a point, so I just shrug. Take another bite of soup. It’s not very good, but its heat slowly warms up my frigid center.
“Still no compulsion to go crashing out the front door?” Lily asks.
“None.”
“Well, that’s a good thing, right? Because if Shelby was actually dead, shouldn’t you be able to feel it since you now have a connection to her?”
“I still don’t know how my powers really work. I mean, Austin doesn’t have many violent deaths, but there are some. However, I didn’t have a compulsion to find that guy who was murdered here the other day.”
“But he was never missing. The killer left his body in his house for his wife to find when she got home from work.”
I think about her words. “You think my powers only kick in when people are lost?”
“It makes sense, right? Otherwise you’d be chasing after a dead body every night, depending on where you lived. But the way it works, how you have to stay with the body until it’s not just found, but actually removed from its dump site makes me think the lost thing is a valid theory.”
“Shelby’s lost.”
“She is.” Lily nods. “She’s lost and alone. She’s scared. And she’s being hurt. Why wouldn’t you be able to sense her?”
“Because that’s not what I do.” I push away from the table, carry my half-full bowl of soup to the sink. Suddenly, I’m not very hungry. “I connect with people who have died violently. It’s what my magic does, what it is.”
Lily just snorts. “No offense, Xan, but you just said you don’t know what your powers do. And how could you? You’ve had them for all of three weeks.”
“So?”
“So you know as well as I do that magic changes, matures, the more you use it. Add to that your connection with Declan and frankly I’m a little surprised you aren’t getting a new talent every day.”
“That’s not funny,” I tell her, with a frown.
“It wasn’t meant to be. Maybe when your powers first kicked in, you could only sense dead bodies, but things change. You’ve spent the last three weeks in almost constant contact with Declan freaking Chumomisto—and much of that contact has been pretty damn intimate if the noises I heard coming from your bedroom earlier meant anything.”
“Lily!”
She holds her hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying. All that power, all that passion . . . Why wouldn’t things start changing for you? It only makes sense. You know as well as I do that magic responds to all different kinds of energy. And sexual energy is one of the most powerful kind.”
“I get it,” I tell her with a mock scowl. “You don’t have to keep harping on my sex life, you know.”
“Sorry, I can’t help it. We single girls have to get our thrills where we can find them.”
“You’ve been single for less than twelve hours. I really don’t think one day without sex qualifies you as in need of a thrill.”
She snorts. “That’s because you have no idea just how bad Brandon was between the sheets. If you did, you’d probably loan Declan to me for a night on purely humanitarian grounds.”
I laugh. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“Well, that’s not very BFF-like,” she answers, pretending to pout.
“Sure it is. Because if Declan so much as looked at you that way, I’d have to kill you both. This way, I get to keep my BFF alive.”
She thinks about my logic. “Well, when you put it that way . . . Good call.”
“That’s what I thought. Though I am sorry about Brandon being such a loser all the way around.”
“Not your fault I picked a dud. But maybe, when the weirdness of your new life settles down a little, you could introduce me to Declan’s very sexy brother.”
“You’re interested in Ryder?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised. He’s pretty damn delicious. I wouldn’t mind taking a couple of bites out of him.”
“Well, when you put it like that . . . ,” I tease, tossing her words back at her. “I’ll make sure to introduce you the next time he’s in town.”
“Excellent.”
Suddenly Shelby flashes back into my mind and the last trace of levity drains from me. How could I laugh with Lily—even for a second—when a little girl is out there somewhere, being hurt. Or worse.
Lily notices my shift in mood, and reaches out to squeeze my hand. “She’s alive, Xandra.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No, I don’t. But I believe it. And you need to, too.”
“Why?”
“Because it will break your heart if you don’t. And, honestly, I’m not sure how much more heartbreak you can take.”
Again, she has a point. Besides, how could it hurt? Thinking of finding Shelby alive might be the only thing that gets me through the next few days. Because, whether she’s dead or alive, after speaking with her the way I did—after feeling her pain and her fear—there’s no way I can just turn my back on her. I am going to find her. And when I do, I’m going to tell her that she’s the bravest little girl I’ve ever met.
I should have told her that before, when we were talking. A sudden realization hits me, one that makes me believe, really believe, that Shelby actually is alive. “I talked to her.”
“What?” Lily asks, looking up from where she’s making another pot of tea.
“I talked to Shelby. It wasn’t a dream. Obviously,” I say, gesturing at the damage to my leg. “I never did that with any of the others. I felt their pain, lived through their deaths with them, but I never talked to any of them. I couldn’t.”
“Because they were dead.”
“Exactly.” Relief, pure and overwhelming, rushes over me. Because as much as I hate to think of Shelby suffering at the hands of some monster, I hate more to think of her dying alone and terrified. “And she isn’t.”
“That’s what I like to hear!” Lily settles back down at the table, a big smile on her face. “So what are we going to do to find her?”
“We?” I ask.
“Hell, yeah, we. You got to do all the heroics last time. This time, I definitely want in.”
“I’m not sure being tortured is actually heroic, you know.”
“It is if you end up capturing the murdering bastard in the end.” She pops a cracker into her mouth, chews pensively. Then she says, “What do you think we should do first? Do you want to try to reach out to her again?”
“I’ve already tried a couple of times. Nothing’s happened. I think whoever hit her”—I gesture to my bruised face—“probably knocked her out.” I deliberately refuse to think of other, worse scenarios.
“So, we just wait?”
“No.” I reach for my phone, scroll through my contacts. “I think we should call Nate.”
“And tell him what?”
“The truth. He already thinks I’m psychic—that’s why he asked for my help. The fact that I’ve connected with Shelby shouldn’t even have him raising an eyebrow.”
“Maybe you’re right. But you do realize that it’s two o’clock in the morning, don’t you?”
I freeze, my thumb suspended over his contact information. “Good point. But don’t you think he’ll want to know? He is the one who asked for my help, after all.”