The other four stayed quiet. I felt the weight of their reluctance, and I understood it. This was my call, and there were good reasons for it. We were in an untenable position, unwarded in a public building that even invitation-excluded riders like nosferatu and cadaver sanguins could waltz right into. The Invisible College had gotten the drop on us already, at least once and probably twice. We had no natural allies in the city. We had no clear way to find the enemy, and no good guess as to what was on their agenda.
In Denver we could sit in the middle of a bank vault if we wanted to, pile on wards so thick it would take weeks to find us and weeks more to force us out; and instead of looking for a bunch of gun-toting demon-possessed wizards, we’d have to read through historical documents. The only downside was that it left my family exposed to the Invisible College and the thing from the parking lot.
But it had been years since I’d been here, and the Invisible College hadn’t bothered them in all that time. I had to think that if I went, they’d chase me.
“Okay,” I said. “Pack it up, and let’s get the hell out of Dodge.” The chorus of agreement sounded like relief. “Kim. Aubrey. Thank you, guys, so much for putting your heads together with us. Is it cool if I call you when we get to Denver?”
“I think you should,” Kim said. “I’d like to know what this whole damn thing was about.”
“You and me both,” I said. Despite everything, I really did like her.
We dropped the connection, and I sat back. Ex and Chogyi Jake looked tired. After our unwelcome visitor, we’d spent the night sleeping in shifts in their room, one person always awake with a gun in one hand and salt in the other. The only one who’d seemed happy about the whole thing was Ozzie. She preferred having the whole pack together, if only because she got more ear scratches.
“So. Occam’s razor?” I asked. “Do I know that one?”
“It’s not a spell,” Ex said. “It’s a philosophical law. Basic idea is that simpler solutions are more likely to be true. If the canary’s gone and the cat’s looking happy, there’s not much reason to postulate a dog.”
“You can explain it to me on the road,” I said.
“I’d love to,” he said with a smile. There was something about him that got more handsome after I’d seen or thought too much about Aubrey. So that was a great, huge, blinking warning sign.
“I’ll go pack my stuff and settle the bill. If we get in the car now, we can eat dinner in Denver. Barring potty breaks.”
“Don’t look at me,” Ex said. “Dog’s the one with the weak bladder.”
I laughed on my way out the door. Truth was, I wanted to leave. I was relieved to be going away again and putting my past in the past. Nothing about the return to Kansas was what I’d hoped, and a lot was worse than I’d feared. When I’d been off roaming the world, sneaking a call home to visit with Curt had been one of the ways I’d comforted myself. When things were bad, I’d been able to touch base with someplace simpler and safer. I’d told myself that in the whirl and madness of riders and magic, supernatural beasts and tangled love, there was another world. Home had been a place of ignorance and bliss. No one there knew how dangerous and wild the world could be, and the idea that a place like that existed had been enough to get me through.
Only, it wasn’t true. Maybe it never was. All parents were kids once. All of them had their hearts broken and betrayed. All of them carried secrets. Probably I wasn’t the only one who wanted to think that her parents had been born before the invention of sex. But when I got to Denver, I’d probably find how deeply that wasn’t true. Name after name, generation after generation, going back as far as the records went, it could be stories of families like mine. Seductions and rapes and madness and lies going back through generations. Going back until the papers ran out and the past streamed behind us, unrecorded.
Because that was really what I’d taken comfort in. Not my family but my past. The past seemed safe because I’d survived its dangers. The truth was it had never been safe.
And it still wasn’t.
“Jayné!”
I turned, ready to fight. Jay was stumbling down the corridor from the lobby. His eyes were red from crying. He had on slacks and a white shirt that looked like they’d been slept in. His face was the waxy gray of exhaustion.
“Oh, thank God. Jayné, you have to help me. They took her. She’s gone.”
A sick chill ran down my spine.
“Who’s gone?”
“Carla,” Jay said, his voice breaking on the name. “Those people. The ones who broke into the house. They took her. And she . . . she went with them.”
Jay put his arms around me, collapsing into me. Sobs wracked him. I had the visceral memory of being eight years old, when our first dog had gotten out of the yard and been killed by a truck. It was the last time I’d seen Jay cry like this.
“It’s okay,” I said. “My room’s right here. Come on. Just tell me what happened.”
I opened the door. Jay sat in the desk chair, running his hands through his hair and shaking his head.
“We were supposed to go to the bridesmaids’ party. Her cousin was . . . her cousin was arranging it. I went first. With Dad. We waited, and she didn’t come. She didn’t get there. I tried calling her phone. Texting her. She didn’t answer. When I went back to the house . . . Jesus help me. Lord Jesus, please help me.”
His eyes screwed shut and new tears poured down his cheeks. He breathed hard through gritted teeth, his cheeks and forehead flushed red. I was half certain he was going to hyperventilate.
“Okay, talk to me now,” I said. “You can talk to God anytime. I need you to be here with me now.”
Jay swallowed his tears and nodded.
“When I got home, she was gone.”
“Were there signs of a struggle?” I asked. “Did you call the police?”
“It won’t help,” Jay said. He paused, grabbed at his pants pocket, and took out a folded gray envelope. He held it toward me like a kid handing his mother a broken toy. I don’t want to take that, I thought. I don’t want this. I took it, opened the flap, and pulled out a single sheet of white printer paper. The handwriting was simple and clear, and the paper felt soft against my fingertips. I wanted it to smell of perfume, but it didn’t.
Jay-bird:
I love you. I love you so so much. You know I would do anything for you, but I have to go now. If it was only me, I wouldn’t leave, I would stay with you even if you were going to face the devil. But I have the baby, and I have to take care of him. I’m his mommy, and I have to.
There’s a curse on your family. You saw what your sister did. The people who broke in were there to show me that she’s a witch. Oh, Jay-bird, she eats babies. And you saw what she did. They’re angels. They’re guardian angels and they came to protect me and the baby and if I could take you too I would but I can’t. They said I have to go where no one can find me. I have to go away from you, and if it was only me I wouldn’t. But it’s the baby, so I have to.
I am so sorry. I am so so sorry and I love you so so much.
Don’t look for me.
It wasn’t signed. It didn’t need to be. I said something obscene.
“I saw what you did,” Jay said. “The way you fought. It wasn’t normal. Dad shot one, didn’t he? She said Dad shot him, and he caught the bullet.”