Josie has not one, but three Federal police contacts that have been waiting for the day when she gives them a call to help take Enzo down. If there’s a dirty cop in the nest with Enzo, then Josie is guaranteeing a way around that lowlife. But under no circumstances are any of us to barge into his operation and steal Mini back. The Feds must rescue Jasmine, and then child abduction can be added to Enzo’s long list of sins.
Some time during the second pot of coffee, my parents both promise Josie they will not go to the police. It’s agreed that Rocks and I will obtain as much evidence about Enzo’s current operation as possible, and then Josie will hand over the information. All the adults present are concerned about how Rocks is going to get this done. Our silence doesn’t help, but he promises my parents he will get what is needed on Enzo. I tell Dad we’re gonna need his GoPro camera and some rappelling gear.
“Afterward, I’ll take the recordings to the police,” Chad offers.
“No, it’s best if you’re not involved in this part at all, so you won’t be called to give evidence in the trial, unless it’s in relation to Jasmine. You’ll get to walk away with your daughters safely.”
“And you won’t mention Connie?” he asks Josie again.
She swears that she will take full responsibility for Enzo and that I will not be involved. Dad relaxes as much as a man that’s just found out the kidnapper of one daughter is the father of his other. I eye him wondering how he’s feeling about me now.
“Good, because I want her safe. I want them both safe.” He turns to me and continues. “I’m your father, and that’s how it’s going to stay. If you think for one second I’m going to have it on official record that Enzo Ascari is your biological dad, you’re dead wrong.” When he’s calm, he’s the best dad in the universe.
I launch myself off the couch and into his open arms. “I love you.”
“I love you too, and don’t ever, ever forget that. Sorry about earlier.” I get wrapped up in one of Dad’s hugs—the kind that only awesome dads can give. He makes the worries of the world disappear, and inside his arms, the silent promise is made that he’ll make everything right.
With the hard part out of the way, it’s time for some happy news. I kneel in front of Mom and take both her hands in mine.
“Mini’s got a new tooth.”
22. I Spy
“Oh my god, you’re safe,” Mom wails as I walk in the door late Thursday. For my whole shift at the warehouse, I was waiting for one of Enzo’s thugs to drag me by the hair into his office and play a recording of the plan we’ve all been hatching.
But my imagination has obviously hooked up with my guilt complex—it’s completely out of control.
Enzo gave me yet another pay increase, and today I took the cash stashed in my locker and added it to the heap in my trunk. If Enzo’s going down, then I might as well keep what he thinks I’m owed. The colony, or my college education, will benefit from his generosity.
Mom and Dad look as though they’ve aged ten years. I still feel responsible despite their repeated objections. Dad apologizes again for his outburst and insists that if I’d have known what would happen, I would never have looked for Enzo in the first place. He’s right. I would have burned that letter and had hypnotherapy to make sure I forgot I knew I was adopted. No lie.
Mom is looking way too closely at her chipped nails. Tears fill her eyes, but don’t spill over her smooth cheeks. “I can’t help but think if we had told you from the beginning you were adopted none of this would have happened.”
“What’s done is done,” I say, trying to ease her guilt. I know how heavy that burden can be, and to be honest, I’m so relieved to not be alone anymore. My parent’s approval means the world to me and having them on board with all that has happened is surreal.
She smiles and dabs her eyes. “Tell me everything.”
I give Mom the full Mini report—three times. Last night, she baked animal sugar cookies with marshmallow eyes for me to take to Mini. Mini spent three minutes reciting all the animal noises in her rather large repertoire—I felt it my big sister duty to pass on my animal obsession—before demolishing the lot. It was a joy to witness, and when she’s back, I’m going to spoil that little poppet rotten.
The knock at the door surprises me. Rocks used to come straight in but has returned to waiting outside. I guess he hasn’t forgotten the cops showing up on his doorstep. When I explain that to my mom, he gets an earful about always being welcome in this household, and that he really should have his own key. I stifle a laugh at the look of outrage that flashes over Dad’s face at the thought of a teenage boy having 24/7 access to his teenage daughter. Then my ears burn, and of course, Rocks notices that.
“I don’t understand why you’re risking your life after what we put you and your family through,” Dad admits.
I watch the weight of his words sink in. Rocks nods. “I know I look different. People have judged me—and my family—for the way we look for a lifetime. But I would never let something so petty stand in the way of doing what’s right. We need to bring Mini home, and I can help do that. Those in the world that are judged are rarely what they are conceived to be.”
Oh, Rocks. Now that we’re getting closer and closer to bringing Mini home, I worry about what will go wrong for us next. Will the colony welcome me back? Will the colony kick him out? It reminds me of Parker and that vote. I check my Gmail account on my phone and wish I hadn’t.
Dad shakes hands with Rocks and tells him that his father should be proud of the man he raised. My heart jackknifes in my chest. That’s the one thing I know deep down Rocks is desperate for—the Sire to tell him he’s proud of who he has become.
With the GoPro in hand and a mountain of abseiling equipment by the door, Mom and Dad leave Rocks and I to talk alone. I’m going to the market tomorrow instead of school to help Rocks prepare. Josie had made the folks promise they wouldn’t grill us for details of the warehouse. She said from her years of dealing with the cops and Enzo, it’s easier to be convincing if you simply don’t know what’s happening. The location of that warehouse and what it contains has to be news to my parents when Mini is returned and the police brief them.
I leave Rocks at the kitchen island, in heaven with a new gadget to learn, while I follow my folks upstairs. Dad is already in bed, and Mom is in their bathroom when I poke my head around the corner. Dad pats the bed beside him, and I’m catapulted back to my childhood. A quick run and a good jump has me nearly knocking him out the other side as I land on their king size bed. Our laughter causes Mom to see what’s happening.
It’s been too long since I’ve been this happy and carefree in my parents’ company. I need it like oxygen if I’m going to survive what’s coming, and I sense my folks need a break from the constant anguish they’ve lived with since Mini was taken. This light moment won’t change Mini’s situation, but it’ll give me the strength I need to get her back.
“Sweetheart?”
I sit cross-legged in the middle while Mom gets into bed. “I have two questions.”
“Shoot,” Dad says.
“Can Rocks stay in the guest room so we can drive up to the market together tomorrow?” I don’t mention it will prevent me from staying up half the night worrying that he’ll get back there without encountering any owls.
Chad barely flinches at my idea. He’s getting better, but he looks to Kelly for the answer. “Of course, I’ll go make up—”
I grab her wrist before she gets one leg out. “I’ll take care of it. You stay in bed.”
“You sure?”
I nod. My blood pressure is on the rise, but I’ve put this question off for far too long. It’s time. “Why did you adopt if you could have kids?”
The happiness that was on Mom’s face a second ago at the idea of having an extra mouth to feed at breakfast vanishes. Her eyes show concern and a touch of guilt. Dad reaches a hand over and takes hold of hers.
“It’s okay. We knew she would have to know o
ne day,” he says, looking at her. Tears well up in Mom’s eyes, but not enough to spill over. Each second of their delay is freaking me right-the-fudge-out.
“Your dad is a cancer survivor.”
My jaw opens, but I have no words. Not in a million years would I have guessed that was the reason. “But? What? When? Are you okay?” I focus on Dad’s smiling face.
“Of course, it was when I was in college.” He sighs. “I never thought I would see my twenty-first birthday.”
Dad and Mom take turns sharing their explanation for why they kept my adoption a secret. Well, not so much a secret, they just didn’t want the cancer to be their focus. It was about being positive and living a healthy lifestyle. Mom didn’t want to give any energy to the cancer cells, in case it came back.
They wanted to enjoy life and really live without a cloud hanging over them. Mom apologizes profusely for the worry and hurt she caused me. It was her idea, but each milestone I hit seemed to arrive before they were ready. When I started school; when I became a teenager; when I turned eighteen; when I hit twenty-one …
The Specialist that saved Dad had him store a sperm sample in case the treatment left him sterile. There was a mix up at the donor bank and I block my ears and sing loudly not wanting those particular details in my mind. When it’s safe to listen again, I sit quietly and Dad continues. His Specialist then suggested they put their names on the adoption waiting list because it was likely Dad would never be a father naturally.
Six months later, they were called to collect me. The agency had said the wait would be years, and even though they weren’t ready to be parents, they looked on my arrival as another miracle. It wasn’t until Mom got pregnant that they discovered Dad could be a dad. For whatever reason, the universe had prevented them from having a child until then.
The questions fly from my mouth. I need to know the whole story or I’ll never sleep. It turns out Mom fell in love with Dad while he was really sick. She used to visit him everyday after he had to drop out of college, and she would read the newspaper to him from cover-to-cover by his bedside. When he got better and was cancer free, Dad took over reading the paper as a little sign that he could do it—I’ve finally got a reason for their daily news-hour obsession. A miracle I have witnessed my whole life but never knew the significance.
“And that’s why you go to those fancy fundraisers?” The truth has been right under my nose. Mom smiles.
“And why we never miss the reunion weekend,” she adds. “That group all watched your father’s recovery, and each year, without fail, we get together to celebrate another year of life together.”
“I never knew. I would have come—”
“It’s all right, sweetheart.”
“And you’re sure you’re all right?” I ask Dad. I have to, but my worry is exactly what they were trying to avoid. He assures me again and kisses me on the forehead.
There’s one more thing I need to discuss and now’s as good a time as any.
“It’s time I’m allowed to swear.” Mom goes to speak, but I soldier on. “After the shit I’ve seen and experienced, I think I’m old enough to know when I can and can’t cuss. Mom, you need to trust that I never want to hear Mini repeat any of those nasty words. I think I’ve proven I’d do anything for that kid.”
“Yes, you would. You’re a good big sister to her,” says Dad, with a sad smile. Mom covers her mouth, clearly moved.
“And I’m sorry for lying. For all the lies I’ve told you. They complicate life in ways that don’t make you a better person, so I want you to know how sorry I am.”
“Honey, we understand you did what you had to do for Jasmine.”
“But I lied to you last year too.” I look away suddenly ashamed of my childish behavior. Her soft hand covers mine forcing me to look into her eyes. She’s not upset.
“We understand, but we’re glad you see it’s not the only way.”
A weight lifts after my admission. I never knew how much lying to them really cost me until now. It’s almost like I’ve been given a new start. They know who I am and what I’ve done, but love me anyway. After hugging them both hard, I grab the laptop and head for the TV room. My family is even more amazing than I realized.
The Google alert I spied earlier does not sound promising. Rocks takes possession of the remote super excited for TV time and starts watching a news report about astronomy geeks getting their geek on over the lunar eclipse. I don’t have the heart to stop him until I confirm if the sinking feeling in my gut is justified. The title of the video link leaves me both speechless and wanting to hurl.
“You’re going to need to see this.”
Rocks sits close, ignoring the TV and places the laptop on his knees. I try to keep still as the video buffers, but the words in bold across the top make it hard.
Go Ahead For Bat Cull.
The news reporter is live outside the Mayor’s office. A group of men in suits deliver the worst news possible for the Camazotz. There’s a representative from some nature/wildlife society, one from the National Parks, and three city officials. They all agree that due to public safety concerns, they will humanely euthanize the rare vampire bat colony that has been discovered in a Floyd County wilderness area. The reporters hit them with questions, and they decline to say the exact location, or when the cull will take place to prevent ‘tree-huggers’ from interfering. It’s reiterated that the secrecy is in the interest of public safety, but that without the help from a vampire bat expert, they never would have found the mysterious roost.
The video ends, and I have no idea what to say to Rocks. He sits staring at the screen. I take his hand and run my fingers along his. Those amazing digits give him the capacity to fly.
“Vampire bat expert.” I repeat. “If it’s Floyd County, then they’ve found the Duskwing!”
“Let me watch it again,” he requests quietly. One click later, and the deadly news still hasn’t changed.
“What the—” I hit pause, drag the cursor back a minute and pause it again. “That fudged-up freak is involved. What the hell is going on?”
Rocks isn’t following, and then it hits me—he doesn’t know what he looks like. I point to the dark-haired guy standing behind the suits being interviewed.
“That’s Joey!” Clear as day, the bat that broke Rocks’ wing is on camera. “Some effing expert!”
“Are you absolutely sure?” Rocks is peering at the screen squinting. I wish it was better quality, but I print a screen shot anyway.
“It’s him. I would recognize that, that …” I really want to swear now I have permission to, but nothing seems evil enough to encompass all that he’s done.
“Why would he be supporting a Camazotz cull?”
* * * * *
Rocks doesn’t speak as I drive up into the mountains. I guess his brain—like mine—is trying to connect the dots and work out what hidden agenda Joey has going. Endangering the Camazotz and risking their discovery does not make sense. He’s ratting out his own kind.
“The others don’t know yet?” The second I ask, I realize how stupid my question sounds. It’s not like Rocks could call or email any of the Shadows members overnight. “Sorry. Stupid question.”
He reaches over and places a hand on my knee. “It’s okay. You’re used to instant communication. Now you see how backward we really are. It’s so dangerous being uninformed.” He huffs and fidgets, and I can tell he’s trying to keep his annoyance under control.
Within twenty minutes of arriving, there’s an emergency Fold meeting that includes all the Clips as well. Each wing has a right to know what’s going on, and how it will affect the safety of their members no matter how small they are.
Cypress hisses, when I open the video on the laptop, and makes quite a performance of stepping back a safe distance. He’s wearing nothing under his leather vest, and his blood-gushing tattoos only add to my dislike of the man. When the group gets over their aversion to my technology—like the electricity is going to rea
ch out and fry them all—they gather around closer to listen and watch the report. Despite the seriousness of this, I can’t help but imagine some of these members wrapping their skulls with tin foil before answering a deadly cell phone.
When the video ends, their reaction isn’t what I was expecting. A divide occurs between the wings. Half the wings argue that Duskwing have this coming to them for attacking those humans so blatantly. The other half think we need to warn them because this isn’t an aeronaught problem and should be dealt with by the Camazotz instead. Strickland is alone in the middle, listening. He hasn’t committed to one side or the other.
I sit back and try to ignore the aeronaught insults that are being hurled back and forth. They are not talking about me. And if I’m really honest, I’m angry at my own species too. Rocks takes a step away from the tight ball of muscle, black leather, and tension. He grabs my hand and heads for the door. Over my shoulder, the Sire’s eyes track our movement. He was not exactly overjoyed to see me, but at the same time, my information gives him power to protect his colony. Even he knows continuing my ban at a time like this is suicide.
Rocks sits on his bed after we climb into his wagon. I notice immediately the starry ceiling above him has all the photos of us and the ones of Decker stuck to it. He rubs his temples, and I don’t like the sag of his shoulders.
“They could be at that for hours.”
I pick up his phone and forward copies of some of the pictures to my email. His ceiling has room for his whole family if I print them out. His arms have been bare every time I’ve seen him lately. I take a moment to study this boy from the Shadows sitting in his room. Rocks has had hundreds of hours to do the same to me. His black velvet vest is my favorite, and I look around for his wardrobe, wondering where he keeps his clothes, but he’s only got small sliding cupboards crammed here and there to maximize the space.
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