“I see you called a couple of hours ago,” Gabriel’s voice said. “But I’m certain my phone didn’t ring. Is there a problem? Call me.”
Tristan tapped the screen and started to text.
“Hey!”
I lunged. He dodged and kept typing until I managed to grab the phone. Too late. The message had been sent.
Need help. Please come. Followed by an address, then, Don’t call. Too dangerous. Just come. Please.
I started to text him.
“You know that won’t help. What will you say? Sorry, but a madman who lured me to an abandoned hospital sent that. I really don’t need help.”
I hesitated.
Tristan continued. “Even if you could explain it, he’d come anyway, just in case. The cry for help has been sent. He must answer. It’s his job.”
“If you mean he’s being paid to protect me—”
“Paid? No. I chose my words poorly. It’s his duty. One he executes with pleasure. He’s formed quite an attachment to you, as has young Mr. Gallagher. And you to them. Three pawns in a very old game. Do you like being a pawn, Eden Olivia?”
I said nothing.
“Of course you don’t. You are Mallt-y-Nos. You rule over pawns; you are not one of them.”
“I am what?”
“Special,” he said. “Isn’t that what every little mortal wants to be? Oh so very special. Except it’s not nearly as wonderful as they think, because when you are special, you inspire avarice and fear. Everyone wants to control you. Use you. If they cannot, they will kill you, because if you are not theirs, you are dangerous. Right now, they circle, watching and waiting. You’ve seen the ravens. The owls and the hounds. Watching. Evaluating. Do you want to know why?”
“Yes.”
“Then start asking questions, Eden Olivia. I’ve been sending some to you.”
“You’ve been sending me body parts. You killed an innocent—”
“I did not kill Ciara Conway. I merely took advantage of her death to . . .” He smiled. “Stir the waters. Wake you up. Wake them up. You say Ciara Conway is innocent, and you are correct. Yet there is someone who was even more wronged in this: the girl waiting for you here. She’s connected to Ciara and has suffered through that connection. Those responsible for her suffering surround you in Cainsville. Find the connection. Ask the questions. See what it has to do with you.”
He turned and headed for the door.
“Hold on,” I said. “I—”
“You’d best go find Miss Macy. I may have”—he grinned, all teeth—“moved her. I wouldn’t suggest you leave until you find her. That would be very unfortunate for the poor girl. This place doesn’t see many visitors.”
He walked out. I ran after him, but when I got to the door, he’d vanished, just as he had that night at Ricky’s apartment. I knew now that it hadn’t been a trick of light and shadow.
As I retraced my steps, I called Ricky.
“He got past you,” I said.
“Shit.”
“Not your fault. It was some kind of trick. He’s gone now, though, I think.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. We just had a conversation. A very weird conversation. I’ll get the girl and—”
I veered into the room where Macy said she’d be. It was empty.
“Damn it,” I muttered. “She’s not here. He said he moved her. Great.”
“Hold on. I’ll be right there.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
After I gave Ricky directions, I searched the room. It didn’t take much. The place was about fifteen feet square, with one exit, no windows, and no debris large enough to hide anyone. The walls were covered in graffiti, but it was only the usual “I was here” markers.
As I paced, I tried to call Gabriel to let him know what was going on, but I got a “customer unavailable” recording. I texted a very basic Everything’s fine now. Call when you can.
“Hey,” Ricky said softly behind me.
I silenced my phone.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “I just want to find her and get out of here.”
He gave my hand a squeeze. I relaxed against his shoulder—a brief moment of rest before I looked around.
“It’s hide-and-go-seek now,” I said.
“Are you sure it’s not a wild-goose chase?”
“No, but he suggested he’s put her someplace where she can’t escape. Meaning she’ll be there until someone else finds her. Which isn’t likely to happen soon enough.”
“Shit.” He exhaled. “We don’t have much choice, then.”
“I think that’s the point. Oh, and Gabriel’s on the way.” I explained what had happened.
“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” Ricky said. “Three of us can cover more ground.”
—
We searched the main building methodically, starting at one end and moving through every room, checking any items big enough to hide someone. We were nearly at the end of the first floor when I stepped into what seemed to be a closet. I was about to leave when I noticed rungs, beginning six feet from the floor and extending into the darkness.
I was gaping up when Ricky joined me.
“Huh,” he said, shining a light up. “Looks like the bottom rungs are missing. Not exactly an easy climb.”
My gaze stayed fixed on those rungs.
“Your gut says she’s up there.”
“No, I . . .” I swallowed the denial. “We should take a look.”
“Let me give you a boost.”
He lifted me to the bottom rung, telling me to test it first. It seemed solid enough, so I pulled myself up and checked each rung as I climbed. Ricky swung up below me, which took some serious upper-body strength, but he managed it with only a few grunts. At the top was a hatch. With some effort, I heaved it open and lifted my flashlight through to—
Something creaked in the room above. My flashlight beam landed on a chair, rocking. It stopped as soon as the light hit it. I lifted the light higher and saw that the “rocking chair” had thick leather restraint straps across the base and the back, and two smaller ones on the arms.
That was the only thing in the tiny room. A rocking restraint chair.
“Liv?” Ricky whispered below me.
Tristan tapped the screen and started to text.
“Hey!”
I lunged. He dodged and kept typing until I managed to grab the phone. Too late. The message had been sent.
Need help. Please come. Followed by an address, then, Don’t call. Too dangerous. Just come. Please.
I started to text him.
“You know that won’t help. What will you say? Sorry, but a madman who lured me to an abandoned hospital sent that. I really don’t need help.”
I hesitated.
Tristan continued. “Even if you could explain it, he’d come anyway, just in case. The cry for help has been sent. He must answer. It’s his job.”
“If you mean he’s being paid to protect me—”
“Paid? No. I chose my words poorly. It’s his duty. One he executes with pleasure. He’s formed quite an attachment to you, as has young Mr. Gallagher. And you to them. Three pawns in a very old game. Do you like being a pawn, Eden Olivia?”
I said nothing.
“Of course you don’t. You are Mallt-y-Nos. You rule over pawns; you are not one of them.”
“I am what?”
“Special,” he said. “Isn’t that what every little mortal wants to be? Oh so very special. Except it’s not nearly as wonderful as they think, because when you are special, you inspire avarice and fear. Everyone wants to control you. Use you. If they cannot, they will kill you, because if you are not theirs, you are dangerous. Right now, they circle, watching and waiting. You’ve seen the ravens. The owls and the hounds. Watching. Evaluating. Do you want to know why?”
“Yes.”
“Then start asking questions, Eden Olivia. I’ve been sending some to you.”
“You’ve been sending me body parts. You killed an innocent—”
“I did not kill Ciara Conway. I merely took advantage of her death to . . .” He smiled. “Stir the waters. Wake you up. Wake them up. You say Ciara Conway is innocent, and you are correct. Yet there is someone who was even more wronged in this: the girl waiting for you here. She’s connected to Ciara and has suffered through that connection. Those responsible for her suffering surround you in Cainsville. Find the connection. Ask the questions. See what it has to do with you.”
He turned and headed for the door.
“Hold on,” I said. “I—”
“You’d best go find Miss Macy. I may have”—he grinned, all teeth—“moved her. I wouldn’t suggest you leave until you find her. That would be very unfortunate for the poor girl. This place doesn’t see many visitors.”
He walked out. I ran after him, but when I got to the door, he’d vanished, just as he had that night at Ricky’s apartment. I knew now that it hadn’t been a trick of light and shadow.
As I retraced my steps, I called Ricky.
“He got past you,” I said.
“Shit.”
“Not your fault. It was some kind of trick. He’s gone now, though, I think.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. We just had a conversation. A very weird conversation. I’ll get the girl and—”
I veered into the room where Macy said she’d be. It was empty.
“Damn it,” I muttered. “She’s not here. He said he moved her. Great.”
“Hold on. I’ll be right there.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
After I gave Ricky directions, I searched the room. It didn’t take much. The place was about fifteen feet square, with one exit, no windows, and no debris large enough to hide anyone. The walls were covered in graffiti, but it was only the usual “I was here” markers.
As I paced, I tried to call Gabriel to let him know what was going on, but I got a “customer unavailable” recording. I texted a very basic Everything’s fine now. Call when you can.
“Hey,” Ricky said softly behind me.
I silenced my phone.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “I just want to find her and get out of here.”
He gave my hand a squeeze. I relaxed against his shoulder—a brief moment of rest before I looked around.
“It’s hide-and-go-seek now,” I said.
“Are you sure it’s not a wild-goose chase?”
“No, but he suggested he’s put her someplace where she can’t escape. Meaning she’ll be there until someone else finds her. Which isn’t likely to happen soon enough.”
“Shit.” He exhaled. “We don’t have much choice, then.”
“I think that’s the point. Oh, and Gabriel’s on the way.” I explained what had happened.
“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” Ricky said. “Three of us can cover more ground.”
—
We searched the main building methodically, starting at one end and moving through every room, checking any items big enough to hide someone. We were nearly at the end of the first floor when I stepped into what seemed to be a closet. I was about to leave when I noticed rungs, beginning six feet from the floor and extending into the darkness.
I was gaping up when Ricky joined me.
“Huh,” he said, shining a light up. “Looks like the bottom rungs are missing. Not exactly an easy climb.”
My gaze stayed fixed on those rungs.
“Your gut says she’s up there.”
“No, I . . .” I swallowed the denial. “We should take a look.”
“Let me give you a boost.”
He lifted me to the bottom rung, telling me to test it first. It seemed solid enough, so I pulled myself up and checked each rung as I climbed. Ricky swung up below me, which took some serious upper-body strength, but he managed it with only a few grunts. At the top was a hatch. With some effort, I heaved it open and lifted my flashlight through to—
Something creaked in the room above. My flashlight beam landed on a chair, rocking. It stopped as soon as the light hit it. I lifted the light higher and saw that the “rocking chair” had thick leather restraint straps across the base and the back, and two smaller ones on the arms.
That was the only thing in the tiny room. A rocking restraint chair.
“Liv?” Ricky whispered below me.
