“And you’re the one. You’re like me, Ava. We can stand on either side, but there will always be lost souls who come to us for help, regardless of what that help may be.”
“You’re… tainted? Like me?”
She shook her head, smiling sadly. “No, I’m not of the same heritage as you. But we face the same problems. You have to decide now if you are going to help anyone who comes along, or just those who you think are good.”
“What do you mean?”
She held my gaze steadily, even though she had to look up to do it. “Not all of the children down there are human like Emmett. Some will grow up to be the things you protect others from. They have been raised to be dark, even Emmett. Do you understand?”
“You’re saying the children might be evil? I could be unleashing something terrible on the world if I set them free?”
“I’m saying every evil was once defenceless. And that was the easiest time to kill it.”
I backed away. “I’m not going to—”
“I’m not saying you have to. I’m saying this is the choice you make. There will be many like it. So can you handle it?”
She picked up the bags and headed into the kitchen, leaving me standing in the narrow hallway, feeling as though my heart might burst out of my chest. I caught the tail end of Mrs. Yaga’s conversation with Emmett when I finally got my act together and followed her.
“So you see, she’s tainted, too. Just like you. But she uses it to help people who can’t help themselves. She uses it for good. What will you do?”
Emmett stared at her, a look of mild horror on his face.
“Are you scaring him?” I demanded.
“I’m making sure he knows the path he’s following if he’s to remain here. We don’t hurt others in the cul-de-sac. That is the first rule.”
“I didn’t—” he started.
“Good,” she interrupted. “That must remain true if you want to stay here with us. Now I must go. I’m late for dinner. Don’t forget the rent is due on Monday, Ava.”
She left me standing there, open-mouthed, as she let herself out. Emmett and I exchanged a glance, but something in his eyes told me he understood exactly what she meant. I had to admit that it worried me to think of what he might have learned in the dark, wherever that was.
Emmett recovered quicker than I did and went to play outside in the sun. He relished the light, but I couldn’t help watching him through different eyes. Could he do bad things? Could the other children be evil? I shuddered at the thought of what I might unwittingly unleash on the world.
“Want to play cards with me?” Emmett asked when he got tired of running around out back.
“You know how to play cards?”
“Yeah, one of the guards taught us.”
“What games do you know?”
Turned out, he was better than I was at poker, so he got to decide what we were having for dinner.
“All right then, card shark. What is it? Anything you like.”
“Pizza.”
Fifteen minutes after I ordered, a knock at the door startled me as I washed the dishes.
“I’ll get it,” Emmett called out from the living room.
“Wait! Emmett, no!” I threw the wash cloth back into the sudsy water in the sink and ran out after him.
He opened the door as I hit the living room, and Shay stood there for a couple of seconds, staring at Emmett. Then his eyes found mine, and I shivered at the anger there. The corners of his mouth lifted in an unpleasant sort of way, and he turned on his heel.
“Wait,” I called as I chased after him. “Emmett, go inside for me, please.”
I grabbed Shay at the gate. He stared at my hands as if I were on drugs or something, probably thinking I was stronger than I should have been.
“Let me explain,” I said softly.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” he said. “All this time. What the hell?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks. We found him the other night.”
“Then why is he with you?” he spat, the darkness in his eyes scaring me a little.
“Because Peter thought he was dead, and now he doesn’t believe it can be true.”
“Right, you just find the kid all of a sudden, and now his father doesn’t want him? And you don’t tell the police? Bullshit.”
“It’s not like that!” I slammed the gate closed and pressed my palms against his chest to stop him from leaving. “The people who had him didn’t like the questions we were asking, how close we were getting. Moses hooked us up with a contact so we could do someone we know a favour, okay? We turn up, and there’s Emmett, just standing there, except he has a knife in his hand, and… and something’s just not right about the situation. I tell Peter it’s Emmett─ you see him; he’s the spitting image of the man—but he can’t hack it, so he runs away, and now he won’t answer my calls. Nobody will talk to me and tell me what I’m supposed to do with the kid, and I don’t even care because he makes me feel like a…”
I stopped and heaved a breath, shaking my head at how emotional I was becoming. “Look. There’s nothing dodgy about this. He’s Peter’s kid, and he’s back because we got close to the truth somehow. Someone’s had him all this time, kept him hidden, and just let him go. I went back to Moses, and he’s going to try and make some sense of it. Can you please just stop acting like a stroppy teen?”
He ran his tanned hands over his face. “This is screwed up. Do you know how many people looked for that kid? Searched for him in those first forty-eight hours in particular? How many people thought he was buried in the mountains somewhere or that his body would float up on the shore like driftwood? It’s not possible that he’s alive.”
“Unless he was somewhere people couldn’t look.”
He gave me a strange look. “I’m going to see Peter. I need to hear it from him.”
“Well, while you’re there, please give him a smack across the head from me. That’s if you find him. He’s probably propping up a bar somewhere while I take care of his kid.”
He grinned. “You two are like an old married couple some times.”
“That doesn’t give me high hopes, Shay.” But I couldn’t resist smiling back.
He glanced back at the house, where Emmet was staring out the window, and shivered. “Is he okay? Is he hurt, or…?”
“He seems fine, all things considered. He doesn’t want to talk about it, but the pictures he draws are dark. He’s healthy, a little small and pale, but nothing a few bowls of stew and a couple of games of football won’t sort out.” At least, I hoped so. I couldn’t even take Emmett to see a doctor, just in case. I could only hope for the best.
Shay still seemed astonished. “He does look like him, but how do you know it’s really him?”
“I just know. Trust me. But Peter could take a DNA test if he wanted. If that would make him feel better. I tried to contact Yvonne, Emmett’s aunt, but she won’t answer.”
“Right. I’m going to sort this out with Peter then.” He made as if to leave, but I held up a hand to stop him.
“Don’t you ever work?”
“This is work. Just not the paid kind.” He obviously saw the sceptical look in my eyes because he explained. “There are a lot of things I regret. Giving up on that kid was one of them. The whole situation ate at me for years. It was so fresh in my head that I knew exactly who you were talking about when you turned up at the station that day.” He shook his head.
“There was nothing you could have done, trust me.”
“I could have kept looking,” he said bitterly. “I knew in my gut that it wasn’t right, and nobody can stay hidden forever. There’s something really messed up going on in this country, and if you won’t tell me what you know, then I’ll have to find out for myself.”
“Don’t,” I said. “Stay away from the crazies. It’s safer that way.”
“You worried about me, Ava?”
I snorted. “Yeah, right. I have enough to worry about.”<
br />
But as he walked away, I had to wonder if keeping him in the dark was the right thing to do. What if he did a Carl and ran headfirst into disaster? But did I really want to drag another innocent person into my world? I would let Shay deal with Peter and figure it out later, but from what I had been hearing, having friends in all sorts of places might have been the best plan out there.
Emmett was a little scared after Shay’s mildly dramatic exit, but he soon calmed down, and by the time he had eaten more pizza than I did, he was acting like a normal, hyper, little boy. He whimpered a couple of times in his sleep that night, but there were no screams and no night terrors. It was as if he had already forgotten his past. I just wished everything else could be so easy. I didn’t doubt that Shay would knock some sense into Peter. After all, Peter seemed in total awe of the older man, but his reaction to his son the next time he saw him could change everything. I really hoped he wouldn’t fuck it up.
Chapter Fourteen
The following morning, I realised I hadn’t heard from Esther at all since she’d left the possible witness to head for the twins. It wasn’t like her not to check in regularly, and she should have made it to the twins already.
My brands stung more than usual, which was probably why the twins’ situation was high on my priority list, and I chanced ringing Gabe about it.
“She hasn’t made contact with us yet,” he admitted. “None of the Guardians who were sent over there have called us.” He didn’t bother trying to disguise the worry in his voice.
“What’s going on?” My stomach churned with anxiety. What if they were all dead?
“We don’t know. Aiden’s threatening to fly over there, but so far, he’s been kept on a leash. How do you feel about flying again?”
“Fuck you,” I said, panicking. “I can’t leave right now.”
“Oh,” he said softly. “Does that have something to do with a new house guest?”
“No.” I hung up immediately. Holy crap, did the entire world know Emmett was with me?
I moped about all morning, barely paying attention when Emmett and Dita played together out back, their little tiff forgotten.
“Are you okay?” Emmett asked as they surrounded me with childlike concern.
“I’m fine.”
“You shouldn’t lie,” Dita reprimanded, folding her arms.
“Leave her alone.” Emmett’s forehead creased into a frown. To my surprise, Dita fell silent instead of arguing with him.
“I’m okay,” I insisted. “I’m just a little worried about a friend of mine. She’s missing, and nobody’s heard from her. But don’t worry, she’ll be fine. You two go and have some fun.”
Dita ran off, Emmett following her slowly, but he seemed distracted, letting Dita win every race. I watched them without seeing, too busy thinking of a million and one reasons why there might be radio silence from the Guardians.
A while later, a solemn Emmett came back over to me. “I might be able to help your friend,” he said in a quiet voice, somehow sounding more mature.
“How?”
“The woman that visits you. Maeve. She comes here a lot, just not for long. But she can move to different places; she can probably even talk to others like her.” He shrugged. “I didn’t see them that often before. That’s why I was worthless in the dark. I was going to work there when I got bigger. As a guard.”
“They make the kids work there if they don’t get sold?”
He nodded. “I don’t think the things I see can go to the dark. But sometimes I saw them in the light, when they brought me up to test me and stuff like that.”
“Test you?”
He shook his head, frowning. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I hesitated, wary of pushing him too hard. “What is Maeve anyway? A ghost, a spirit, what?”
“She’s like a ghost. She’s dead, but she’s not spooky. Someone has her trapped here, so she can’t move on. He makes her do things, and he pulls her back when she does something he doesn’t want her to do. She can move around and see things we can’t, but she’s not… not free.”
I sighed heavily. “I don’t know if she can help me, but maybe you could ask her next time you see her.” I smiled weakly.
He puffed out his chest. “I will. I’ll make sure she helps us. I can do that, too.”
“Do what?” I asked.
“Make them do things. Dita told me it’s more polite to ask nicely, though.”
I stared at him, but he was all innocence and light. He had more use than the market owners thought.
“Dita’s right,” I said. “And maybe we should keep this to ourselves.”
“Another secret?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s okay. That’s what she taught me, too.”
“Who? Dita?”
He shook his head. “The teacher. I don’t want to talk about it.” He fidgeted nervously until I patted his shoulder and told him to go play. He drew instead, and again, the drawings were dark and bloody, except a singular face shone through in each picture.
Peter came that evening with Carl. Both of them stood on my doorstep, looking like bold little boys about to get into trouble. I crossed my arms and stared at them, waiting for something. I wasn’t quite sure what.
“I want to see him,” Peter said.
“Why?”
He looked startled. “Because he’s my son.”
“I told you that the other night. You punched him.”
His cheeks turned red. “I’m not… I didn’t know what to do. How was I supposed to believe he was Emmett?”
“Are we going to be getting into some kind of paternity testing situation here? To prove he’s your son?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Ava, you sound like… he’s not your child!”
“Leave her alone!” Emmett ran past me and pushed at his father, but when Peter took a step toward him, hands out to embrace him, Emmett hid behind me, trembling.
Peter flinched visibly, a weird mixture of horror and longing in his eyes. He kept his focus on Emmett, shutting out the rest of us, and a lump in my throat made it harder for me to control the situation.
“Let’s everyone calm down,” Carl said nervously. “Hey, Emmett. I’m Carl. Can your dad and me come in and have a little chat?”
Emmett’s breathing grew noisy, but I leaned my arm on his shoulders. “Don’t worry. If they upset you, I’ll kick them out, okay?”
He nodded and disappeared into the living room.
“You even think about raising your voice in front of him again, and I’ll karate chop your face,” I hissed at Peter.
Peter laughed, but he sounded mildly hysterical. I couldn’t help acting like an over-protective mother hen because, as far as I could see, Peter had rejected the kid at the one time his son needed him most. The big eejit.
“I brought some things,” Peter said when we all moved into the living room to join Emmett. “Just some stuff I kept. From… from before.”
Carl shrugged at me, and I could see he was thinking the same thing I was. We had never seen Peter so uncertain.
Peter shrugged off his jacket, and then rummaged through the bags he had brought. He paused to stare at Emmett for a couple of seconds before clearing his throat. “This was your favourite thing when you were a baby,” he said, his voice cracking. He handed Emmett a small fluffy teddy bear, the kind of soft stuffed animal that was perfect for snuggling. Emmett glanced at me, and I nodded, hopefully reassuringly. Maybe everything was going to be okay.
Emmett took the bear hesitantly, ran his long, slim fingers across the fur, and surprisingly, sniffed it. “I like how it smells. It smells like… something.” Then he shook himself and laid the bear next to him. “Are you really my father?” he asked Peter earnestly, staring into Peter’s face as if searching for something.
Peter kept his eyes on Emmett and nodded. Swallowing hard, he took out his wallet and showed Emmett the picture he carried around. A baby pictur
e of Emmett.
“It looks a little like me,” Emmett said, but he sounded uncertain.
“I can tell he’s your dad,” I said. “Your blood smells the same.”
Emmett rapidly glanced from one face to another, suddenly scared, if his increasing heart rate was anything to go by.
“Don’t worry,” I said hurriedly. “It’s just a gift I have.”
“You hit me,” he said sternly, his soulful eyes never wavering from Peter as he waited for an answer.
“He thought you were something else,” Carl said softly, coaxingly. He would make a good dad, I thought.
“He hit me the first time he met me, too,” I said. “But Carl kicked his ass for me.”
Emmett stared at Carl, his eyes going from the walking stick and back to his father. Then he laughed, for the first time, a real laugh, and all of the tension leaked out of the room.
Everything went easier after that. So easy, I was left with a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach that warned things would eventually come to a head. But not that day.
Peter and Emmett chatted, although Emmett seemed more secure with others around him. Emmett even asked to see a photo of his mother, and Peter promised to show him as many as possible. I had to sneakily wipe a tear then. He would never know his mother, and I knew how that felt.
Carl left soon afterward, and I escorted him to the door to thank him.
“Sorry for snapping before,” I said.
“Meh. I’m used to you.”
I pretended to punch his arm. “Yeah, well, thanks for dragging him over.”
“Actually, he asked me to come with him. He’s terrified. I never thought I would see Peter so scared. All over that little squirt.”
I really did punch him that time.
“Wow,” he said, rubbing his arm. “In love already, are we?”
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