by Lish McBride
“What did I say?” Lock asked. “I’d rather not say it again, whatever it was.”
“Some of the young bucks are more sensitive than others. That might lead them to … overcompensate on occasion.”
Ikka snorted. “On occasion?”
“Bucks?” I asked, putting my hands to my head and making little antlers.
Lock slid down in his chair, smacking his forehead at the same time. He has a tendency toward the melodramatic. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. Their jackets!”
I looked at Les’s leather vest. I certainly didn’t notice anything spectacular about it. “They’re … cows?” I ventured.
Now it was Lock’s turn to put his hands up by his head, only instead of antlers, he made little rabbit ears.
Ezra made little whiskers with his fingers. Then he laughed so hard, tears shone in his eyes.
I stared at Les and Ikka, my mouth all but hanging open. “You guys are bunnies? But … you look so badass.”
“Hares,” they both corrected automatically.
“Oh, man,” Lock said, sliding even deeper into his chair. “That’s even worse. Were-hares. It rhymes. I thought were-bears had it rough, but no one’s going to laugh at someone who turns into a grizzly.” He shook his head. “You’re wrong—a knife isn’t overcompensating. If I was Sid, I’d carry a damn machete everywhere I went.”
“Please,” I said, pushing my bowl away. “You’re part tree. So let’s not start throwing stones.” I’d never heard of were-bunnies before. In fact … “Wait, aren’t all weres predators? I mean, you always hear of werewolves and stuff, but I’ve never—”
“Nonsense,” Sid said, gliding back in the door. “That’s part of the therianthropic conspiracy, isn’t it? Putting wolves and bears at the top, like we’re nothing. Let me ask you, lady—you ever catch a wild hare with your hands?” He didn’t wait for me to shake my head. “You can’t. They’re too fast. Even if you managed it, they’d scratch and bite. Powerful hind legs, that’s what they’ve got. A five-pound hare can do a lot of damage.”
“Oh, leave it, Sid,” Ikka said, tying off her thread.
“No,” Sid said emphatically. “Look, you think we don’t get shit from other weres? Of course we do. They think because we turn into hares that we’re going to be gentle and cute.” He jabbed the air with his index finger. “There’s a difference between domesticated rabbits and hares.”
“Not to mention that we’re half-human,” Les said softly. “Everyone always forgets that. Is there a more bloodthirsty predator than humans?” His fingers traced the fine lines on his neck. How did a were get scars, anyway?
“We aren’t an army. We needed a place to winter, and Duncan offered us one. As a trade-off, we’re acting as extra security.” He looked at the three of us. “Which he clearly needs. Security, Ava. Nothing else. We didn’t take Cade.”
Duncan lit his pipe. “That’s enough, I think, children.” He gave the pipe a puff as he studied me. “I know you’re not here to kill me, Ava, because I know you. That’s why I offered you sanctuary.”
I looked at my hands in my lap. “What if the Coterie had convinced me?”
“That would take some leverage,” he said. “It would take Cade. Last I checked, they didn’t have him. But you’re right, he should be here by now.”
Les pulled a phone out of his pocket and handed it to me. My throat tight, I dialed the numbers, only to get voice mail. My stomach fluttered at the sound of Cade’s voice telling me to leave a message. What if something had happened to him and this message was the last time I’d hear his voice? I quietly handed the phone back to Les.
“Someone will run you into town,” Duncan said. “Just in case.”
“That could put them in danger,” I said, but I was already putting my jacket back on.
Duncan puffed his pipe. “You’re not going to stay. If it was just you and Lock and Ezra, I’d be concerned about your safety, but with backup you should be fine. We need more information; it’s as simple as that. Cade isn’t answering, so we need to go there and see what’s keeping him from the phone and from here.”
“Shotgun,” Sid said, peeling himself away from the wall.
“What, you’re not going to try to drive?” Ikka asked, putting her sewing away.
“You always win on that, so I thought I’d save us both some time and just go for shotgun.”
“Aw,” Ikka said, tousling her brother’s hair. “You’re learning.”
He batted her hand away. “Let’s not leap to conclusions, now.” Ezra got up, and Sid shoved him back down. “Not you. You stay.”
Ez didn’t argue. A sly grin split his face, and he put his elbows on the table, his hands cupping his face. Horatio gets that look sometimes when he’s mousing. I was about to argue, but Lock put a hand on my elbow.
“We brought a fox into the rabbit warren,” he said. “They want him where they can keep an eye on him. Honestly, I can’t say I blame them.”
“You’d think they’d want him out.”
“We’ve learned,” Ikka said, eyeing Ezra, “that it’s better to keep trouble in sight. Especially when that trouble is a fox.”
Five minutes later, we were bouncing along in Duncan’s Jeep. We went to the bookstore first because it was on the way and Cade spent most of his time there. Well, we went to where the bookstore used to be, at any rate.
I stared at the charred ruin. There wasn’t much left. It looked like the fire department had at least been able to get to it before the flames spread to the other buildings.
Even though I had no proof that Owen and, ultimately, Venus, were to thank for this mess, it had Coterie written all over it. I’d like to say that I stood there stoically, taking it all in and making a vow of revenge. Everyone wants to believe that they’re strong, that they’ll take things like this in stride. The truth is, I totally broke down. The bookstore was my true heart. My safe place. And it was ruined.
One minute I was looking at the building, the next I was a sobbing wreck being held up only by Sid’s lucky catch. At first I thought he was Lock. Both smelled like leather, both were strong, though Lock has wider shoulders. And I guess I was really only used to being hugged by three people—Lock, Ezra, and Cade. Sid made soft shushing sounds and stroked my hair.
That’s actually what snapped me back into reality. Lock never did that. I heard Sid say, “Not that I mind, but could you take her for a minute?” And then I was transferred into Lock’s arms while Sid dropped to the ground and rolled.
“Sorry,” I mumbled into Lock’s chest. I mentally reached out to Sid and extinguished the sparks.
“It’s okay,” Sid replied, getting up and patting his jacket. “What’s a little smolder between acquaintances?”
“I don’t—” My voice broke and I had to start over. “Usually I have better control.” I’d been out of it a lot lately. This was the third or fourth time in as many days that I’d lost my handle on my power. Sloppy.
“Where are we?” Ikka asked, casting her eyes around the wreckage.
“Cade’s bookstore,” I said, leaning back from Lock. His features were bent in concern as he wiped my cheeks. From the look in his eyes, I knew he was as heartbroken as I was. “Kind of a second home.”
“There’s no ‘kind of’ about it,” Lock said, his voice firm. He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and hugged me tighter.
Ikka touched my shoulder—just a gentle feather of pressure, and then her hand was gone. “We shouldn’t linger.”
I straightened up suddenly. “No, we can’t go. Not yet. We need to find Horatio. And Sylvie. What if Sylvie was in there?”
“Cade was planning on heading up to Duncan’s. Which means he got off the phone with us and closed up shop. The place was probably empty when this happened,” Lock said. “He wouldn’t have left Horatio here if he wasn’t sure when he was coming back. Call Sylvie.”
I jogged down to the corner gas station to see if there was a pay phone about. There was, but it had
obviously been broken for a long time. I cursed and felt the overwhelming need to kick something. While I wanted to call to check in with Sylvie, I didn’t want to use my disposable cell yet. After a short fuming fit in the booth, during which I may or may not have melted the receiver into a lump of plastic, I slumped back to the van. Sid tapped my shoulder and handed me his phone.
“This should be clean,” he said. “You took off before I could offer it to you.”
I dialed Sylvie’s cell number from memory, getting a very excited—and squealy, but certainly relieved—“Ava!” for my efforts. She started babbling about how terrible the fire was.
“And I’m not just saying that because I don’t like looking for a job and I’m worried I’ll end up at some lobster place and stink like crustaceans forever—unless you think Lock would like that?—it’s just I really liked the bookstore and it would be such a shame to lose it and I think that something like that would be a real loss to the community. I mean, the closest bookstore is two towns over and they don’t even have used books and not everyone wants to search through the stacks at Goodwill, because they don’t even organize. Plus, it has this smell? You know? I have to wash everything I get from there twice. They use this chemical—I wanted to analyze it but my science teacher said I’m not allowed to use the equipment unsupervised anymore.”
The car was moving and well away from the gas station before I could break in. Sylvie talked more when she was nervous, worried, or upset, and she had obviously worked herself into a proper tizzy.
“Sylvie!” I yelled into the phone.
“What? You don’t need to shout. Geez, gimme palpitations, Ava.”
I rested my head against the dashboard, resisting the urge to crack open my skull on the hard plastic. “Syl, I just need to know if you’ve talked to the boss-man.”
“He’s not with you? Weird. I guess I just assumed he would be. I haven’t seen him since he dropped Horatio off.”
I straightened up suddenly. “You have Horatio?”
“Well, yeah. Cade brought him by, said he was going to be busy or something, and gave me some money for food and kitty-sitting since the shop was going to be closed for a few days. I guess it’ll be longer now.” There was a brief pause—the barest of seconds—but for Sylvie it was the equivalent of a vow of silence. “Come to think of it, he didn’t say when he was coming back, and he gave me kind of a lot for food.… Are you guys okay?” The last part was quiet and said in a very un-Sylvie-like tone.
“Yeah, I think so. Look, just … be careful. Don’t tell anyone you talked to me, especially people you don’t know. Cade and I will be back as soon as we can.”
“Okay.” Another pause. “I know something’s going on. Some kind of trouble. You don’t have to tell me what it is, but don’t try to deny it. Just be safe and come back. I won’t forgive you if you don’t. I don’t want to get a job at the pharmacy. I’d gain a million pounds being that close to the frappé counter. My dad says its not good for me to have all that sugar, anyway. And I don’t want to work at the lobster place and get nicknamed something putrid like Crustacean Queen.”
Despite my worry, I couldn’t help but smile. Sylvie has that effect. “I promise to do the best I can, Crustacean Queen.”
“Great!” she chirped, back to her normal self. “Is Lock there? He is, isn’t he? I know he is, because you guys are, like, joined at the hip or something stupid like my mom would say. Put him on the phone.” Knowing better than to argue, I handed the phone to Lock, making a few kissy noises as I did. “Your girlfriend,” I mouthed.
He flipped me off, but he took the phone.
I HATED the idea of leaving, even though it didn’t make any sense to stand around and stare at the rubble. As the car drove away from the mutilated husk of Broken Spines, I felt my heart crumble at the edges. Just one more thing I needed to take the Coterie to task for. Too much of my life had been a reaction to them and their actions, to what they wanted, and I was sick and tired of it. They would answer for it, come hell or high water. But that was for later. For now I just curled up in my seat and tried not to cry.
My fear that I’d find the cabin in the same state was unfounded. The windows were dark and empty, but it was intact. A quick search of the inside yielded very little in the way of information, but I had to see for myself that Cade wasn’t there. That he was really missing. Ikka was able to tell me there had been someone about who wasn’t human—she’d smelled different scent trails, but no blood. So if someone had been hurt, it hadn’t happened in this cabin. Unless it was poison, but that wasn’t really Venus’s style.
Why couldn’t the Coterie have been thoughtful enough to leave a dagger planted in my kitchen table with a detailed note outlining their plans? At the very least, some sort of threat or something for me to go on. A nice theatrical clue would have been good just then—of course, burning the bookstore was a pretty clear signal, but they could deny that they did it. I could see Venus sitting on her divan, her blue eyes wide and innocent, her voice full of sincerity as she talked about humans and arson and the state of the world these days. In this scenario Ryan is painting her toenails for some reason, while she sits and points fingers at anyone but the Coterie. Sure, we’d both know who did it, but what could I do? Nothing.
I went to my room and packed. Lock rapped on the wall as he entered.
“We should go.”
I nodded. “Just a few things, then we’re gone.” I sat down on my bed. “Lock? Can I ask you something?”
“You’re asking permission? It must be a very awkward question.”
I materialized a small ball of fire between my hands, tossing it idly back and forth. While other kids were playing video games and complaining about braces, my mom was teaching me to juggle fire, just like I was doing now. It had become habit, something I did when I was thinking or nervous. “How come you and Ezra are willing to do all this?”
He dropped down into a crouch in front of me, staring up at my face. The fireball lit his face while it passed, leaving one half in shadow as it flicked back and forth. He studied me for a second, his elbows resting on his knees. I tried to ignore him and keep the flame ball bouncing. Suddenly he stuck his hand up right in its path. I quickly extinguished it, but it was very close to his skin when I did.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I think I spit a little when I yelled.
“Proving a damn point. I’m not scared of you, Ava. We’re friends. That means if you’re going to duck march into the maws of hell, I’m going to be right behind you carrying the marshmallows and roasting sticks.”
I kept my head tilted away, not wanting Lock to see me tearing up. I hate crying in front of people. Lock, of course, wasn’t about to let me get away with it. He gently grabbed my chin and pulled it until I was looking at him. “I know you didn’t really have any friends growing up, that you couldn’t,” he said softly. “But this is kind of how it works. You’re going in, then I’m going in right behind you, whether you like it or not. And we couldn’t lose Ezra if we tried.”
“And we have tried.”
Lock dropped my chin and rested his arms on my knees. “Remember that time he was chasing wild turkeys through someone’s field and we tried to make it back to the car before he spotted us leaving?”
“I still say we would have made it if my phone hadn’t gone off.”
I don’t know how long we sat there lost in our happy memory before I felt his mood shift. He traced a pattern on my leg with his thumb, and I knew he was trying to figure out how to say something. “Spit it out,” I said with a sigh.
“Cade would have left a note if he’d changed his plans.”
“He would have left something, yes.”
Lock dropped out of his crouch and sat on the floor. “He probably never made it back here to pack.”
A curt shake of my head, just enough to convey a no without thinking enough to completely collapse into tears. Cade. They had kidnapped Cade. I couldn’t handle losing
him. Venus wouldn’t kill him, at least not at first. She needed him for now. But she would hurt him. Lock had said she’d seemed extra unhinged lately. She didn’t have the best restraint on good days. If she hurt Cade, would she know when to stop? Venus wasn’t used to dealing with humans except for lunch. They were fragile compared with the rest of us. My whole body quaked at the thought of it. I took a deep breath. I hadn’t lost him yet. No matter what, I needed to remember that. He was just temporarily misplaced.
“What do we do next?” Lock asked. I didn’t know. But when we rejoined Sid in the kitchen, he gave us an answer.
“We go back to the drove,” Sid said from his seat on the counter. “Les and Duncan. That’s what we do.”
I scowled at him until he jumped down. “Drove?”
“That’s what you call a group of rab—I mean hares,” Lock said. When I looked at him, one eyebrow raised, he shrugged. “My mom’s a dryad, remember? I know a thing or two about nature.”
“I thought your grandma raised you.”
“During the school year. But the summers were all Mom.”
I heard a muffled thump from outside the door, presumably from Ikka since that was where I’d last seen her. Sid cocked his head. “We’d better get going.”
“To the drove,” I said, flinging my bag over my shoulder. Hopefully, Les and Duncan had some ideas. Because I was about out.
11
IT’S HARD TO FIGHT IN PAJAMAS
BY THE TIME we pulled back into Duncan’s, I was feeling a little more hopeful. Sylvie had Horatio, and the cabin was okay. We could rebuild the bookstore. It was insured. Not quite the same as hearing that Cade was safe, but at that point any positive news was welcome.
Duncan was sitting by the fire when I got in, his big body huddled over a small piece of wood. He held a whittling knife in his hand, but right then he was running a thumb over the half-carved piece as if he were trying to decide what he wanted it to be. A handful of Les’s drove were sitting here and there, even a kid curled up on the fireplace rug like a dog.