I felt more than heard the voice of the Oak in my mind. “Nice landing,” she said.
“Everyone’s a critic,” I grumbled, sitting up and tentatively testing my limbs.
Beside me, Lucas who was doing his own systems check, said, “Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” I said, looking across the street at the well-lit windows of my grandfather’s house. “You may not have stuck the landing, but you hit the bull’s eye on the target.”
“I aim to please,” Lucas grinned, “pun intended.”
He stood up carefully and offered me his hand. I accepted, letting him haul me to my feet. “I take it you don’t use that stuff often?” I asked.
“I do not,” Lucas said. “The last time I resorted to Plan B, there was a werewolf, a raccoon, and a shotgun involved.”
As we set off across the street, I said, “Yeah. I hate it when that happens.”
“Me, too,” Lucas said. “You do not want an armed raccoon ticked off at you.”
I almost asked and then decided we didn’t have time.
Innis answered the door, took one look at my thin coat and nearly blue skin, and went into matronly overdrive. “What on earth are you doing out in weather like this wearing that, child?” she demanded, drawing me inside and all but pushing me into the fireplace. Over her shoulder, she barked at Lucas, “Wipe your feet.”
“I’m fine, Innis,” he said, obediently scrubbing his boots on the mat. “Thanks for asking.”
The brownie retrieved a heavy wool shawl from the back of a nearby chair and draped it around my shoulders. “Where is my grandfather?” I asked, huddling into the thick fabric. “We need his help.”
“I am here,” Barnaby said, emerging from his study. “Owain just told me what happened. How did you get here so quickly?”
“Dried baobhan sith blood,” Lucas replied.
The answer seemed to surprise Barnaby, but all he said was, “Do you have more?”
Lucas shook his head. “That was the last of it.”
“Then we have a problem,” Barnaby said. “The drifts are already too bad to pass into the lower valley. The portal to Briar Hollow is cut off.”
Come on! I already knew from conversations with Chase that there was more than one way in and out of the Valley. “I don’t want to go to Briar Hollow,” I said. “I want to find Connor. Can’t we use another portal?”
“We have the coordinates for the Atlantic portal’s opening in the human realm,” Lucas said. “If you have a map, we can consider our options.”
Barnaby disappeared into his study and came back with map — from AAA no less — of the state of North Carolina.
“Triple A?” I asked. “Seriously? When was the last time you needed roadside assistance?”
“Their maps are excellent,” Barnaby said defensively. “Earl acquires them for me. He likes to vacation in human form. I believe his term for the excursions is ‘road trip.’ As I understand the pastime, it involves aimlessly driving a motor vehicle while listening to loud music and consuming low-quality food.”
Well, who knew? Earl was a werecat after my own heart.
Lucas plotted the portal’s position and pointed to a spot in the waters off a large green area on the map. “That’s it,” he said. “According to Owain’s coordinates, Connor would have surfaced there.”
I pointed to the shaded blob. “What is that?” I asked.
“It says ‘Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge,’” Lucas replied.
Barnaby had retrieved a second map from his study. This one, drawn by hand on aged brown paper, was covered with red “X” marks. He compared the two maps and then said, “Oh dear. I do hope that is not a literal reference to alligators.”
The magical world blindsides me a lot, but I knew exactly what was coming next. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll bite. Why?”
“Because the nearest portal to the point where Connor went into the water lies at the eastern edge of the wildlife refuge,” Barnaby answered. “Here.”
Why wasn’t I surprised? We were already up to our backsides in proverbial gators. Real ones didn’t seem like much of a stretch.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “If that’s the only way to get to Connor, then that’s where we’re going.”
Barnaby reached for my hand. “My dear,” he said, “this will only put you in the vicinity of where Connor would have come through the portal. You do realize that he could be anywhere or . . . ”
I interrupted him, my voice choking on the words. “Dead,” I said. “I know perfectly well he could be dead, but you cannot ask me to go back to my mother after everything she’s been through without some kind of answer, Granddad. You know I can’t do that.”
Barnaby still looked deeply troubled, but he didn’t argue with me. “Let me contact Ironweed,” he said. “Perhaps we can at least improve your chances by sending you through the portal with GNATS drones to aid with the search.”
“That’s a good idea,” I agreed. “While you’re doing that, I want to see where Connor lives.”
“Of course,” Barnaby said, “but why?”
“When we find Connor, he’s going to be scared and confused,” I said. “I want to know how to connect with him. I can’t just blurt out that I’m his sister and expect him to believe me and trust me.”
Neither Barnaby nor Innis would let me go back out in the building snowstorm without a better coat. The brownie bundled herself up until she looked like a barrel with feet and went out on the square, returning in minutes with a package wrapped in brown paper. Undoing the string, I held up a gorgeous long coat in regal blue. To my surprise, it fit perfectly.
“Oh, Innis,” I said, “this is beautiful. What do I owe you?”
The brownie blinked. “Owe me?” she asked. “I charged it to Mr. Barnaby, like everything else.”
Barnaby waved his hand. “Consider it an early birthday gift.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “You know when my birthday is?” I asked.
“Of course, I do,” he said, sounding mildly offended. “Connor was born December 3, 1982, and you were born December 6, 1985.”
When I started to cry, both men exchanged utterly horrified looks. I collapsed into a chair sobbing. It was Innis who patted me comfortingly on the hand all the while dispensing tissues.
“Good heavens,” Barnaby said, “I . . . uh . . . what did I . . . why . . . ”
He spluttered to a stop and looked helplessly at Lucas who shrugged in equal ignorance.
Taking pity on them both, I managed to explain. “I d-did . . . didn’t . . . know his birthday. I want him back, Granddad.”
At that, I dissolved all over again. I didn’t see my grandfather squat down in front of me. I only knew he was there when I felt his hand on my knee. Wiping my eyes, I looked through my tears at him and repeated myself, “I want him back.”
“Then go get him, Jinx,” Barnaby said earnestly. “I have complete faith in your abilities to accomplish anything. Go get your brother.”
Not “quit crying like an idiot” or “are you sure you’re up for this.” No. He said he had complete faith in me. Barnaby trusted me to go through a portal into the middle of what sounded like a gator infested swamp and come back with Connor. My tears began to slow. I put my hand over his and nodded.
“Good,” my grandfather said. “Now, go with Lucas to the stables. Ellis will be expecting you and will let you into Connor’s apartment. I will coordinate with Ironweed. We will meet back here in an hour.”
I don’t know what I expected to see in my brother’s apartment, but what I found made me yearn to know him all the more. Beautifully drawn, unframed sketches of life in Shevington covered the walls.
Connor has a good eye. He doesn’t just see form, he recognizes and renders the inner spirit. I detected skill in the hands of the weaver, mirth in the eyes of the old lamplighter, and focus in the posture of meditators beneath the branches of the Mother Tree.
On the worktable under the windo
w lay pieces of intricately tooled leather, the parts of a saddle that would, when complete, be a work of art in itself.
“He does custom work for clients,” Ellis Groomsby explained, watching me as I traced the patterns lovingly with my index finger. “There’s none in the land that can turn out leather work like Connor. He never mentioned that you’re his sister.”
“He doesn’t know,” I whispered. “I wanted to come here so I would know how to make him believe me when we meet.”
Pattering feet sounded on the stairs. I barely had time to register a blur of gray before a monkey-like creature wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Bring Connor back to Ailish! Ailish loves Connor.”
“His pet,” Ellis explained. “She is an Elven Gray Loris. They are inseparable, but Connor insisted she stay home while he worked at the inland sea. The poor thing’s been nursing a cold. He didn’t want her out in this weather.”
Pulling back slightly, I looked into the enormous dark eyes. “Hi, Ailish,” I said. “I’m Jinx.”
“Pretty lady Connor’s sister?” the loris asked.
“I am. And you’re his friend?”
“Ailish is Connor’s best friend,” the tiny creature corrected me. “Pretty lady bring Connor back?”
Gently stroking her head, I said, “I’m sure going to do my best, little one.Try not to worry, okay? Do you want me to tell Connor anything when I find him?”
“Tell Connor Ailish never ask for sticky sweet honey again,” she said, tears falling from her eyes. “Tell Connor Ailish will eat green broccoli yuck.”
Both Lucas and Ellis looked away to keep from laughing.
“Green broccoli is definitely yuck,” I agreed. “Now let me give you to Ellis, so I can go find Connor.”
“No!” the creature wailed. “Ellis works. Ailish lonely. Ailish afraid. Ailish not want Ellis!”
Suddenly an idea occurred to me. I looked at the stable master. “May I take her to my Aunt Fiona for now?” I asked.
Ellis smiled with relief. “That’s a wonderful idea,” he said. “The poor wee thing is used to more company than I can give her right now. I’m sorry, but there’s just too much to do caring for the animals in this weather.”
“Do you have a coat, Ailish?” I asked.
The loris hopped out of my arms and returned with a red-and-white striped scarf. “No coat,” she said. “Stripey thing.”
“Jump up here on the table so I can fix the stripey thing for you,” I said.
Ailish complied, and I carefully arranged the scarf. “Are you ready?” I asked.
In response, the loris climbed my arm and tucked herself inside the neck of my coat. “Ready!” she said. “Ailish have adventure now!”
“Well, of course the little darling can stay with me,” Aunt Fiona said. “Do you like molasses cookies, Ailish?”
The loris cocked her head to the side. “What molly lashes?” she asked curiously.
“Molasses,” I said. “It’s like sticky sweet honey, but darker.”
That set the creature’s head bobbing up and down. “Sticky sweet good,” she declared. “All colors.”
Fiona laughed. “Oh, you are fun! Go to the kitchen with Stan and we’ll all make a batch of cookies.”
Ailish craned her neck back and looked at the eight-foot tall Sasquatch standing in my aunt’s living. “What are Stan?” the loris asked, sounding awed.
“I’m a Sasquatch,” he said gently. “Some people call me a Bigfoot.”
Ailish leaned out of my embrace and looked down. “Feet big,” she affirmed.
Stan chuckled, “Yes, they are.” He held out one enormous, shaggy paw. “Will you come with me?”
After a moment’s consideration, she said confidently, “Ailish come with Stan Big Feet,” and climbed onto his hand.
The two of them disappeared into the kitchen. “Take good care of her, Aunt Fiona,” I said. “Ellis tells me Connor adores her.”
“I can see why” Fiona said. “How are you holding up, honey?”
“Okay,” I said. “Worried.”
“Of course you are,” she said. “Does your mother know yet?”
I shook my head. “No. Before we go through the portal, I’m going to ask Barnaby to use Moira’s mirror and place a call to Briar Hollow.”
My aunt put her arms around me and held me tight. “It’s going to be okay, Jinx,” she said. “The story isn’t going to end like this. I just know it.”
I had hoped to talk to Tori directly, but she was upstairs when we connected with the lair. The news about Pete’s death shocked me, and I wasn’t thrilled with Greer’s theory that the Strigoi Sisters had a hand in his demise.
I would have liked to be able to say something comforting to Chase, but there just wasn’t time, and Lucas was standing right beside me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, catching his eye, “but you all are just going to have to deal with this on your own. I trust you to get to the bottom of what happened to Pete and take care of it. I couldn’t come back to Briar Hollow even if I wanted to because of the weather up here. And I have to go after Connor.”
Chase nodded, looking like he wanted to say something more personal to me as well. What he settled for was a firm assurance that I was doing the right thing, which helped me — a lot.
“What you’re doing is the most important thing right now,” he said. “You have to put your family first. Find Connor. Greer and I can handle this.”
“Absolutely,” Greer agreed. “Do not concern yourself worrying about this. Chase and I have the matter in hand. I will give Tori your message regarding your parents.”
Lucas stepped up beside me. “It may take us a bit to get back there,” he warned Greer. “I had to use the last of Plan B.”
“Ah,” Greer grinned, “and how was the landing, laddie?”
Looking a little sheepish, he said, “The base of the Mother Tree stopped us from rolling into the street.”
Greer sighed with resignation. “If you cannot use my dried blood properly, I am not going to continue opening a vein for you.”
“Hey!” Lucas cried. “It was in the middle of a blizzard. Give a guy a break.”
“We will take this matter up later,” Greer said. “Is there a specific rescue plan afoot or is this a more spontaneous operation?”
Lucas moved aside and let Barnaby come full-frame into the call. “There are two GNATS drones left in Shevington,” he said. “The rest are either in Briar Hollow, watching Tori’s father, or caught on the other side of the storm near Brown Mountain. The pilots will take the craft through the portal with Lucas and Jinx, who will communicate with them over a closed channel. The drones will search the area where we believe the portal would have ejected Connor. The dolphin who accompanied him will, most likely, help the boy to reach land, probably on the chain of barrier islands known as the Outer Banks.”
Over Greer’s shoulder, I saw Beau spread a map across the work table. He briefly studied the sheet and then said, “That is a large area to reconnoiter.”
“I know,” I agreed grimly, “but we have to do something. Take care of my parents and Tori for me, Beau. I don’t think anything will go wrong but . . . ”
The Colonel held up his hand. “Do not invite bad fortune,” he counseled. “Complete your mission and fear not for the safety of those whom you love. We will all guard them with our lives.”
I knew that already. I count on it every single day, but it still made me feel better to hear the stalwart old soldier say the words. Beau told me once that bravery is equal parts fear and resolution. If that was true, I was good to go on both counts.
25
From his vantage point in a shadowed alley, Chase surveyed the local funeral home. The baobhan sith stood beside him, melting into the night. The vampire didn’t need dark clothes to appear invisible. The blackness he felt radiating from her came from within.
“You’re not breathing,” he whispered quietly.
Greer chuckled light
ly. “Cat’s ears,” she said. “Almost as good as mine. I have no need of respiration. “I only draw air into my lungs and expel it in the presence of humans. It makes them feel better. If you wish, I can breathe.”
“It’s fine,” Chase said. “I just never noticed before. My father has told me stories about you, by the way.”
Clicking her tongue, Greer said, “Well-edited stories, I would hope.”
“With Dad well-embellished might be more like it,” Chase said. “How did the two of you meet?”
“There are some bits of information sons do not require about their fathers,” Greer replied sagely. “Shall we just say Festus and I had wild times in his youth, all of which stopped when he met your mother, God rest her soul.”
Gesturing toward the mortuary, Chase said, “The last time I saw her was in a place like that. Lying in a damned box. I hate funeral homes.”
“Would you rather I go in alone?” Greer offered.
“No, but thank you. If they had a body on display, the front porch lights would be turned on. They wouldn’t do that for a non-paying customer. Pete’s family hasn’t claimed him for burial — or paid a deposit.”
Greer sighed. “Render unto Caesar,” she muttered. “Some things never change, regardless of the century.”
“Oh,” Chase said, “Caesar gets his cut alright, or at least he used to. Until just a few years ago, funerals in this state were taxed. Then the law changed, so the mortuaries just raised their rates instead.”
“If you detest funeral homes,” Greer said, “why are you so knowledgeable about their practices?”
“Because of Jinx’s Aunt Fiona,” Chase replied. “You know she faked her death in the human realm to live in Shevington full time?”
“I do.”
“Well, she researched everything first,” he said. “I helped plan the service when we all believed she was dead. She left a newspaper clipping about the changed tax law stapled to the burial instructions.”
Beside him, in the darkness, he saw the vampire’s teeth flash in a grin. “Oh, I do look forward to meeting her. The lady would appear to have style.”
Witch on Third (A Jinx Hamilton Mystery Book 6) Page 20