The fresh air outside felt hot and suffocating, but still a relief. And to his greater relief, Patrick felt Emmy careening into them like a cannonball before he could blink away the burning smoke. Xavier stood on the sidewalk.
As Patrick coughed and tried to catch his breath, he looked out at the street. Whoever had done this had already made their getaway. He thought he might see some brake lights disappear several blocks down. Even if he wanted to follow, the keys sat inside the burning house.
Patrick looked at the street while everyone else looked at the house. As Patrick had guessed, gasoline-fueled flames licked up the sides of the building at every angle. The flames were crawling inside through the windows like eager intruders. Their dry, dead lawn had caught too, and Patrick thought he saw the remnants of something more well-planned than spare embers catching the straw-like grass. A large triangle, like the one on Julie’s bracelet, had been drawn in the lawn with gasoline.
Magic had nothing to do with the silence that followed. Patrick could imagine everyone felt what he felt. Shock, gradually melting into a hot, black rage. Rage too deep and pure to require shouting or cursing or crying. Someone had tried to burn them alive.
avid knew Amanda must be really sick, because she fell asleep at the police station. David thought he would never sleep again, nor would his kids. They popped around him, from chair to chair, to the vending machine, to the bathroom, to the water fountain, pop, pop, pop. They radiated rage and frustration, and had nowhere to direct it. David could guess that, because he felt that way too.
A wizard reporting a crime to a Mundane detective was frustrating. David had already learned this when Evangeline went missing. The detectives assigned to Evangeline’s case came to talk with him about the arson, presuming there had to some relation.
A forty-something woman with red hair and a pretty, but tired, face was the lead detective on Evangeline’s case and she sat with David alone in an interrogation room.
“Can you think of anyone who wishes you harm?” she asked.
“John Prescott,” David said. He realized immediately that he shouldn’t have voiced his suspicions aloud. He was just too damn tired to talk in circles with this woman. Besides, magic or no magic, Mundanes could understand arson. Maybe she could find some real, non-magical evidence against him.
“Why?”
“He doesn’t like my family.”
“Why? According to you both, and all the evidence we have seen, the two of you have never met, nor do you have any connection to each other whatsoever. Are you telling me now that you have met John Prescott?”
“No. Not that I recall.”
“Then why do you believe he wishes you harm?”
David didn’t answer. He glared at her, again wishing he had kept his mouth shut. The Mundane police had never managed to help him an ounce, and he didn’t know why he thought things might be different now. He felt dark magic radiating from him and the detective glared back at him. She must feel something. If anything, his magic must cause her to either fear or hate him, even if she didn’t know why. If she “followed her gut” as they did on the T.V. shows, she’d investigate him next. He wanted to rein in the ambient evil that surrounded him, but he felt too angry, tired, and sad. The detective was trying her best, and he didn’t wish to curse her consciously or subconsciously.
“Mr. Vandergraff,” she continued. “I’ve been doing this for long enough to know things aren’t always the way they seem. But I’ve also been doing this long enough to know in most cases, things are exactly as they seem.”
“And how do things seem to you?”
She didn’t answer. He could read her well. Something about all of this seemed wrong to her, but she didn’t know what and she hated that. This case kept her up at night, nagging at her. David could also sense she was smart. Not the reactionary type. Even if David radiated evil and John Prescott radiated good, she knew she was missing something. She wanted facts. Something tangible. David wished he could give it to her. But she wouldn’t believe the truth if he told her every last detail.
“You want to know how things seem to me?” she asked. “I think you’re telling me only part of the story. I’ll ask you again, why do you suspect John Prescott of setting your house on fire?”
“I guess I have no reason. It doesn’t matter. Investigate him. Don’t investigate him. You won’t find anything.”
“I’m trying to help you, Mr. Vandergraff.”
“I know you are.”
“I can’t do that if you’re not honest with me.”
“Is this an interrogation? I thought I was the victim.”
“If you’re the victim, then stop obstructing my investigation. All, you’re doing is making it harder for me to find your daughter and catch the people who tried to hurt you and your family. I can’t imagine why you would want to do that.”
“I told you. John Prescott. Or someone he is associated with. I told you exactly who did it. I don’t know how I can be more helpful than that. Now, I’m done talking. I need to take my wife somewhere she can rest. And then I need to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.”
“Do you have any family you can stay with, or should I have Victim’s Services set you up with temporary housing?”
David paused. “The temporary housing will be fine. Thank you.”
“When you decide you want to help me find your daughter, give me a call.”
“Where do they live?” Xavier asked. “What was it, Candy Land?”
Patrick figured that nearly getting burned alive had been enough to shake Xavier back to life. He had the look of someone who had woken from a coma to find the hospital burning around him.
While they waited for Dad to finish talking to the police, everything was opposite. Xavier paced and talked in the waiting area, planning a counter attack, while Emmy sat quietly in a plastic chair, watching Xavier’s feet.
“Sugar Land,” Patrick said. “It’s called Sugar Land.”
“Why do you think it’s the Prescotts?” Emmy asked quietly. Patrick almost believed someone had cast a spell on them and they’d switched bodies.
Xavier laughed, and Patrick shuddered. He rarely laughed, and it sounded wrong, especially now.
“Who else?” Xavier asked. “A week after Evie disappears, this happens? It’s because they know about us now.”
Emmy had her arms crossed in front of her and cradled one with the other.
“What are you hiding? Did you hurt yourself?” Patrick asked.
She looked at him as if he had accused her of something. She looked small.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Show me.”
With her eyes averted, she held out the arm she had cradled. She had covered a blistery pink burn mark on her forearm.
“Ouch,” Patrick said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“It’s no big deal. I got hit with an ember.”
Emmy pulled her arm to herself again. Patrick thought her behavior was strange. Why did she hide an injury from the fire they all knew about? He had the strangest sensation—a vision, but more delicate. He could sense a secret, like a rabbit’s cottontail he glimpsed for a moment before it ran back into the brush. He could go after it if he wanted to. He could hunt it down. He didn’t know how, but he had the urge to grab her burned arm, as if when he touched her, he would know her secret.
But he resisted. He might want to know what she hid, but he wouldn’t draw it out in front of Xavier. Xavier animated and Emmy meek was not just weird, it terrified him. He had no idea what either of them might do.
“Why would the Prescotts want to kill us?” Emmy asked, looking to Patrick for the answer.
Patrick had no good answer. Why would anybody want to kill them? Not kill them. Burn them alive. All of them. His sick mom. His little sister. Every time he thought about those brake lights, his whole body went cold. He felt raw. Naked. He could see how anger and fear were related. He felt both so strongly that they were almo
st the same emotion.
“I don’t know,” Patrick said.
“They don’t want to hurt us,” Emmy said. She sounded less confident than usual. Patrick could sense the little secret hopping around again and he wanted to grab it by the ears. “They may not like winter wizards, but they don’t think we took Julie. I mean, why would we take Evangeline too? That’s not what they think happened.” She sounded more confident as she went along. “Xavier, I don’t know what you think you’re going to do, but I’m not going to let you.”
“What?” Xavier spat.
Emmy stood up. “The Prescotts did not set that fire. And I’m not going to let you, or anybody, go and burn down their house. That’s going to make everything even worse…if that’s possible.”
Xavier stared her down, but didn’t reply. Perhaps there was only enough energy in the world for one of them, and they had to take turns.
“You sound pretty sure, Emmy,” Patrick said. “What do you know?”
“Fine,” Emmy said. “I know one of them. Nathan. We’ve been talking. They think Julie and Evangeline were taken because they’re both solstice witches. And they don’t have any more idea who did it than we do. They’re not the enemy. Someone or something else out there is the enemy. And as long as we’re fighting against the same enemy, the Prescotts and us are on the same side. We need to be working together.”
“Oh, my God,” Xavier said. His voice sounded as if it came from far away. But The quietness of his tone didn’t fool Patrick. He could feel Xavier’s anger building, simmering closer to the boiling point. Xavier looked up at Emmy as if he had found the target for all that rage.
Patrick moved between them without thinking about it, and Emmy hovered close behind him.
“You did this. It’s your fault,” Xavier said.
“I…” Emmy started, but she trailed off.
“You’re so fucking stupid.”
“Hey, that’s not cool,” Patrick said. “Calm down, man.”
“Fuck you!” Emmy shouted from behind him.
“You don’t even know what you did,” Xavier said.
“I didn’t do anything,” Emmy said. “I don’t know what your problem is.”
“You trusted a summer wizard,” Xavier said, and let the statement drop hard as if he didn’t need further explanation.
“Oh, my God! You’re really upset about me being friends with a summer wizard?” Emmy stepped back out to face Xavier, but stayed close to Patrick. “That’s insane. You’re insane. He’s a nice guy.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s really nice,” Xavier said. “The nicer they are, the more dangerous they are. You seriously don’t know how dangerous summer wizards are, do you?”
“I…” Emmy stopped. Patrick could tell she wanted to argue. “You’re insane,” she said, again.
“Yeah, no, you don’t know. None of you know. You pretend you’re wizards, but you don’t know anything about anything.”
“You’re right. We don’t,” Patrick said. “That’s what we need you for. Maybe if you talked once in a while, we’d learn something. You’re talking now. So, why don’t you go ahead and say what you want to say, and lay off Emmy? She didn’t do anything wrong.”
Xavier looked slightly quelled, and Patrick let out a sigh of relief.
“You’re right. I should have said something. As soon as David mentioned that summer witch. I should have known we were marked.”
“Marked?” Patrick asked.
“Summer wizards live for killing winter wizards. It’s their mission. Their whole lives are centered around defeating us. And they usually get what they want. They’re extremely powerful, but also tricky. That’s why they’re so dangerous. They don’t come right at you. They cast intricate spells to draw you in. And it all seems so warm and safe…until you’re dead. It’s a siren song.”
“Siren?” Emmy asked.
“And they always get away with it,” Xavier continued. “They’ll kill us, and then everyone will go on loving them, and hating us. The best thing you can do is avoid them. That’s what my mother told me. Don’t fight with a summer wizard, because they always, always win. Keep your head down, and stay away. I’m sorry Emmy, but this guy does not like you. All he wants to do is light you on fire, and watch you burn.”
“That’s a lot of words you said,” Emmy said. She looked small again. That moment of confidence had faded away.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Xavier said.
“It’s okay.”
“I want to get her back. I have to get her back.” Xavier’s voice shook. Patrick didn’t know what terrified him more, Xavier yelling or Xavier crying. He didn’t want to see either.
“Do you think Julie is even missing?” Emmy asked. “Or was it all a trick? She’s probably hiding out somewhere. She’s probably fine.”
“She’s not fine,” Patrick said. Xavier’s argument about summer wizards sounded solid. They may have started the fire. But that didn’t explain Julie. The image of her in his mind was so strong. Deep burn marks on her back. He could hear her screams. Smell her burning flesh. No one could tell him that wasn’t real.
“I told you,” Xavier said. “They can trick you. They can get into your head if they wanted to.” He must have known what Patrick had thought.
“And into the truck,” Emmy said. “They must have planted the bracelet. That’s what made me care so much about Julie. That’s why I looked for her. That’s why I brought Evangeline out there with me. Because of the damn bracelet. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
“I don’t know,” Patrick said.
“What do we do?” Emmy asked, looking at Xavier. “I’ll do anything to help get her back. Just tell me what to do.”
Patrick felt a chill as he witnessed the alliances in the room shift. Emmy had joined forces with Xavier, and Patrick knew their combined energy would be both powerful and devoid of reason, even worse than the Emmy-Jude alliance. And when Emmy said she would do anything, Patrick knew she meant that literally. She would do anything. And Xavier would too. Absolutely-fucking-anything. And now that the summer wizards had violated them so much, even Patrick felt as if he didn’t have much to lose. And he was the sensible one.
Xavier looked at Emmy warmly now. She must have given him a tiny flicker of hope. However, he didn’t spout out any instructions for her. He looked paralyzed under the weight of her allegiance. That would at least delay Emmy and Xavier from doing their anything. The willingness to do anything didn’t mean they had any idea what to do.
“I know where they live,” Emmy said.
Xavier ran his fingers through his hair as if he wanted to wake up his brain. Patrick knew he was not used to being a leader in the Vandergraff family. He wasn’t even a follower. He was barely a participant.
“No,” Xavier said. “You were right the first time. We have to assume the fire was all a part of their strategy. They would expect us to go running after them. So, we can’t do that.”
Patrick nodded, wishing to encourage this rational line of thinking. “Remember, Evangeline’s safety is the most important thing. All of this feels like a distraction to me. We can’t go running off seeking revenge. We can’t do anything that takes away focus from finding Evangeline. Agreed?”
They both nodded.
“So, unless you think Evangeline is at their house, there is no point going there. Maybe we should go to the forest.”
Emmy groaned. “Are you serious? I have been there a million times. Dad has been there a million times. There is nothing to see.”
“Well, I haven’t been there yet,” Patrick said.
“So?” Emmy said. “What do you think you can do that no one else can?” She said it with a hint of an eye roll, and Patrick scowled. But he didn’t have a good answer for her question…at least not one he wanted to share.
“Besides,” Emmy said. “Did you already forget? The last time I brought someone with me to the forest, they disappeared. We thought, ‘Oh, yeah, let’s check it out.
What’s the harm?’ There is no way you’re going there. I am not going to make the same mistake twice.”
“It’s either that, or do nothing,” Patrick said.
Patrick knew his sister well enough to know that the argument would work. Nothing was not an option.
“Yeah, but what if I lose you too?” she asked.
“That’s not going to happen.”
Emmy didn’t see through his lies. Patrick had his own secret. He knew at some point or another, he would see Julie. Tortured right in front of his face. He didn’t know what to believe, but he had to trust his visions had some meaning. His vision had saved him and his family from the fire. Regardless, he knew he had to go to that forest. None of this could end until he did.
When they made it to the motel, Dad took the guys out to get some food and Emmy stayed with Mom. As soon as the guys left, she couldn’t keep it in anymore. She cried. And like a little girl, she crawled into bed with Mom and cried into her shoulder. Mom stroked her hair and Emmy listened to her heartbeat. And it made her cry more. What if her mother would never hold her again?
Mom liked to fix things, but this time she didn’t try. Maybe she was too sick. Or, maybe she knew things were beyond repair. But she didn’t make Emmy talk about it. She didn’t offer any suggestions. She didn’t tell her it would all be okay. And Emmy appreciated that. She didn’t want to hear any lies. Mom held her and let her cry. She felt the warmth of her body and the rise and fall of her breathing, and that provided comfort enough.
Emmy cried for everything. She cried for Mom. She cried for Evangeline. She cried for the dumb old dolls that had burned in the fire. She cried because all of Evangeline’s weird, mismatched clothes and books had burned away too, as if she had never existed at all. And like a stupid girl, she cried because Nathan had broken her heart.
hea Prescott pulled over to the side of the road at the exact intersection in Houston where most of the city’s murders took place. She should have felt frightened. She knew if she stayed here long enough, someone would carjack her at gunpoint. But she knew the oracle would come when she called him. If he ever didn’t show up, that probably would mean he had died.
Watch Me Burn: The December People, Book Two Page 14