She concentrated on Custo’s methodical disassembling of the doctor’s thoughts. Custo circled topics seemingly at random—background, education, choice to join Segue—then darted in toward the wraith connection, which the doctor still denied.
“Custo told me that it was you who suggested Dr. Powell,” Adam said, though he kept his gaze through the window. Even in profile, he looked sick and stressed and miserable. “I should have considered…but I thought…” He took a moment to regroup. “Couple years ago, wraiths attacked our West Virginia facility. We were made vulnerable by a traitor who stole our weapons and sabotaged our escape. I thought that Spencer was the only one involved, but it seems like he had a collaborator. Talia saved everyone’s lives that day, including Gillian’s. I am utterly shocked that she would try to hurt her.” Adam looked Annabella full in the face. “Thank you. If she had harmed Talia…”
“But she didn’t,” Annabella put in quickly. “Talia is safe. The babies are safe. And you have your wraith informant. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Poor Adam, soon-to-be father. He had to be blaming himself for his mistake of blabbing while the doctor was present. Really dumb. He must love his wife a lot to lose focus like that, as if Talia were the only person in the room.
“Did you know Custo can play jazz guitar?” Annabella asked to distract him.
Adam blinked, gave a short nod. “Heard him play once. I had to hide in the back so he wouldn’t see me. He was very good.”
“He’s incredible,” Annabella corrected. No one in her presence would ever get away with calling Custo’s playing “very good.” Talent knows talent: the man, her angel, was genius.
Adam’s gaze narrowed, both scrutinizing and pitying. “You love him.”
Annabella didn’t want his pity. She wasn’t going to dwell on the hopelessness of their situation. After all, love was made of hope, and her association with the Shadowlands told her anything was possible.
“He loves me, too,” she said, defiantly. She didn’t say it for Adam really, she just needed to say it. The wolf notwithstanding, was there a future with Custo? He hadn’t said, and she hadn’t dared to ask.
“He must love you if he took you back to the loft. I haven’t been able to go there myself since it happened. I can see him right now, through this glass, but the pain is still too raw.”
A lump formed in Annabella’s throat. Adam was the only person she could probably ever talk to about this, and she might not have another opportunity. “The bullet holes made me…” She couldn’t find the word. “…they were so ugly and hurtful. I can’t imagine…”
“Custo would have been lucky to die by gunfire. Quick. Direct.” Adam’s jaw flexed, the little vein popping out at his temple. “But no, that Spencer piece of shit had to torture him. Ruin him first. Grind him down. And, of course, Custo would take it, stupid selfless bastard, so that Talia and I could get away.”
Tortured? Her chest constricted.
Annabella studied Custo’s face, his gaze drilling Dr. Powell. When he was done with the doctor, she was going to have to love him all over again, until the intensity of this revelation was blunted.
“He’s had my back from the first day we met,” Adam said, “taking the worst of everything. Fighting my battles.”
Annabella smiled a little. “He said something similar about you.”
Adam was silent, staring into the room where Custo pinned the doctor with question after question. Finally, he said, “Anyway, thank you. Anything you ever need, ask.”
Annabella’s stomach groaned again, but she wouldn’t bother him for that. Since the wolf was still absent, she might as well call her mother and get her tongue-lashing over with.
“How about your phone?” Hers had long since died without the charger and was a shiny rock in her dance bag.
Adam handed her a slim mobile. She stared at the face trying to figure how to turn on the super-techy screen…then maybe she could dial. That is, if she could get a signal way down here. Adam reached over and flicked something. The gadget lit up.
Yep, Adam’s phone had a signal. Probably cost a fortune.
Coward that she was, she dialed her messages first. There were four.
The first was her mom, worried about missing her at her dressing room after the performance and alarmed that there had been a wraith incident behind the building. Thank goodness no one had been hurt. Then she circled around to Annabella’s “date” the day before and wondered aloud if she was going to be able to meet the boy. Translation: how much do you like him? Annabella liked the boy a lot, but her mom wasn’t getting details anytime soon. Delete.
There were a couple messages from Venroy, a reminder about the reception, then a reprimand about leaving so early. Nothing much to do about that except apologize and grovel. Smooth everything over in time for the next performance in two days. Delete.
The next was her mom again, laughing and saying, “You’ve got to hear this!” There was a rustle of static, a bump, then a faraway whine, which broke off almost immediately. When the sound began again, it was unmistakable.
A howl, a high, extended note that finally fell off slightly, only to climb and hold again.
Annabella grasped the ledge of the window in front of her. All the oxygen in the room had disappeared. Her head pounded. The room tilted wildly.
Her mom came back on, laughing. “It’s been doing that for hours. Got all the other dogs in the neighborhood going crazy. Sounds like it’s right outside my window, but I can’t see anything. I called animal control, so I hope I can get some sleep tonight. Anyway, call me when you can. Love you.”
A monotone female voice asked Annabella if she would like to delete, save, or replay the message.
“Are you okay?” Adam asked.
“Just have to call home.” Annabella fumbled to hang up on her messages, her fingers suddenly stupid, and dialed her mom.
One ring, two rings, three…
“Hello?”
Oh, thank God. Tears pricked in Annabella’s eyes. “Mom! Are you okay?”
“Tired,” she answered. “Did you get my message?”
“Yeah,” Annabella croaked. The wolf. At her mom’s house. Howling. Got it.
“Damn dog kept me up all night. Remember yours? The one that followed you home from rehearsal?”
“Yeah,” she said again. It was the same dog. The wolf. He’d ceased stalking Annabella and had paid a visit to her mother. To Mom.
Annabella needed Custo. She looked at him through the glass, but he didn’t raise his gaze. His attention was wholly fixed on Dr. Powell.
Her mom went on, “I must have dozed off because I saw him in the house, in my bedroom, but he wasn’t a dog.”
Wolf.
“I haven’t had a keep-the-light-on nightmare in a long, long time. Didn’t know I was capable of it anymore. All my nightmares changed when I had you kids. Nothing was scarier in my imagination than the reality of making sure you kids were safe and healthy. When your brother first got his driver’s license…I still get ill thinking about it. But you won’t understand until you have your own.”
“I think I get it now, Mom.” That kind of fear extends to anyone you love.
“Anyway, animal control never showed, but the dog’s gone now. And your brother stole the last of my good coffee, so I’m going to have to kill him.”
The wolf hadn’t been recovering from the fight with Custo last night. He’d been busy harassing her mother. The meaning was simple, though Annabella didn’t want to see it: the wolf would kill again, and someone she loved, until she gave in. Custo couldn’t be everywhere at once, and if he tried, he’d get himself killed. His bullet wound proved that. There was no time to search for another way to contain the wolf, or to drive him back into Shadow.