Tristan twisted as he ran, throwing a blue energy orb over his shoulder. A snarl of pain rang out as it slammed into one of the Keepers, knocking it off its feet.
I threw an energy orb of my own behind us, hoping to take out another. But I didn't take enough time to aim well, and the shot went between two of the panthers.
The woods became thicker, and we had to focus to avoid running into trees. The Keepers had the advantage...by following us, they only had to swerve when we did, and because they were lower to the ground, they weren't continually slapped and scratched by as many branches as we were.
As a result, we were only two steps ahead of them no matter how fast we ran, dodging and weaving among the trees, hurdling fallen trees and large branches. We headed almost straight northwest this time right toward Bullard, attempting to leap off the sides of the larger trees along the way in the hopes that this would make the Keepers lose track of us. But we couldn't pull this move often. The pines usually had branches thick with needles set too low on their trunks to allow it. And even when we did manage it, the Keepers never lost sight of us, their yellow-green eyes following our every move without hesitation.
Tristan threw another energy orb, and a screech that sounded like a screaming woman made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Got another one! Tristan thought.
We circled around Jacksonville's northern side, still keeping to the woods as much as possible, occasionally having to dart through traffic at one intersection and again on the highway when they couldn't be avoided. Horns blared and brakes screeched each time, making my eardrums whine in protest.
We ducked back into the woods, aiming deeper within them, away from the highway now. Long after we'd left the Coleman property behind, we heard an oomph. I risked a glance back. One of the Keepers had tripped over a log, apparently not leaping high enough to clear it, and in rolling had tripped the other Keeper, as well.
Christopher, are you all right? I heard one of the Keepers think to the other.
His voice was familiar. Ron!
I slowed just a bit so I could keep glancing behind us.
I think I broke my ankle, the one who must have been Christopher replied. Go! Don't lose them, or the Clann-
Yeah, I know, Ron said, then he took off after us again in a burst of renewed speed.
Confused, I nearly stopped completely. But Ron was barreling straight for us, his long black body and powerful legs and paws eating up the distance between us.
Is that Ron? Tristan had also slowed down.
Yeah, but something's wrong. Just go!
We added a burst of speed. But now we had a problem. We were getting closer to the truck and trailer. Ron was a good friend, but the Keepers could read his mind and learn anything he knew. We couldn't lead him back to the others.
But I couldn't use magic on him, either.
Logic told me to keep running.
But something far more powerful than that made me stop and turn to face him.
When he was only six feet away, he looked behind him then skidded to a stop. Good, they're gone, he thought. Finally we can talk!
Relief rushed through me, making me light-headed. "You scared the crap out of me, growling like that!" I wanted to walk over and pat his head or scratch his ear, but somehow I didn't think he'd appreciate it.
Tristan grinned. "She wasn't the only one."
Hey, I had to keep up a good front for Christopher, he said, sitting down on his haunches and checking his left paw. They know we used to be friends. They've been watching my family nonstop ever since you guys left.
I sighed. "I was afraid they'd do that," I murmured, my heart aching that he and his family were being put through all of this for us. "Thank you for tripping your partner."
How else was I going to get to say goodbye? His teeth, pointy like fangs, shone white in what little moonlight managed to get through the trees as he panted.
"How's your, er, paw?" I asked.
Wrist, Ron corrected in a grumble. And it's fine. Christopher just stepped on it when I tripped him.
"They're going to be even more suspicious if you lose us," Tristan said.
Hmm. Not good.
"Tell them we beat you up," Tristan suggested with a grin.
Ron snorted. Yeah, right.
"What if you tell them you caught us but we managed to get away?" Tristan said.
They'll know it's a lie. They'll be able to smell the lack of blood that would have been shed in the fight.
"Then let's give them something to smell." Before Tristan or my survival instincts could stop me, I reached over and raked my fingernails across my left forearm, opening four gashes. Blood instantly welled up and spilled down my arm and onto the ground as I walked over to Ron.
Tristan cursed and reached for my wounded arm.
"I'm fine," I told him. "Now let's hurry up before it heals and all this blood's wasted."
I tried not to f linch from the pain as I dragged my wounded arm over Ron's face and down his right shoulder. "Okay, let's dance so this looks right." At both boys' confused frowns, I explained. "The Keepers will probably want to come here and double check your story, right? So we should create a fight scene just to be extra safe. You don't have to use the claws on me for real. Just stand up like you're going to bite my head or something."
Ron blinked his yellow eyes twice then leaped up in a powerful, f luid movement. I caught his huge, furry shoulders with both my hands. His paws landed on my shoulders, each one the size of my face, and we stumbled back and forth a bit. It was the weirdest couples dance ever. But at least it would make the blood splattering over the area more realistic.
A few seconds later, Ron fell back to the ground on all fours again.
Tristan immediately grabbed my left forearm with gentle but determined hands as if he planned to bandage the wound. But he was worried for nothing. Already, the gashes in my arm were healing. Bending over, I dragged my forearm across my thigh, letting my favorite jeans soak up the leftover blood. There. Done and done.
I stood up, hating what had to come next. "Well, I guess we'd better go before more Keepers show up."
You know you didn't have to do all that, Ron said.
"And you didn't have to help us escape." I swallowed hard. "I'm glad I got to say goodbye to you. Please be careful, for Anne's sake as well as your family's. Okay?"
I wished I could hug him. Then I couldn't resist it anymore. I wrapped my arms around his furry neck and squeezed, mindful not to choke him or break any of his bones.
Aw, we miss you two, Sav, he thought.
He and Tristan nodded at each other in some unspoken guy language that probably meant "thanks" or "see you later" or something.
"Sav," Tristan said. "I can hear a Keeper headed our way."
Bye, Ron, I thought. Then I turned and ran away with Tristan back toward the only home we had left.
TRISTAN
Emily was smart, moving the SIM card from our mother's phone to another before going through the Clann contact list just in case Mr. Williams was using his CIA contacts to watch all our old family phones.
"Got it!" she crowed a few minutes later. "Mac Griffin's
living with a Clann couple in Natchitoches, Louisiana." "That's only a couple of hours from here," Mom said. "I go there all the time to meet with clients."
"Would you like to drive?" Dad said. "I am sure you know the quickest way."
Savannah's jaw dropped.
Ms. Evans blinked a couple of times in surprise. "Uh, sure." She turned toward the trailer's exit then hesitated.
"Want to ride with me and keep me company?" We all couldn't help but stare as Savannah's parents exited the trailer together. A minute later the truck engine started and we were off.
"Did that really just happen?" Savannah muttered, making me grin.
Emily shook her head in disbelief. "Okay, let's stay focused. We need a plan for how to get to this kid. Though I guess we can't really call him a kid since he's only a few years younger than us."
"Not to mention it sounds like he's had just as rough a time of it as us," Savannah murmured.
"We'll try to go as easy on him with the questioning as we can," Emily said.
"What's with this 'we' business?" I said.
Emily glared at me. "I am going. Don't even bother arguing about it."
"But you're pregnant-"
"Yeah, I'm pregnant, not dead!"
Savannah laid a hand on my forearm. "Tristan, we could use her help with the questioning. Your spells have always been way stronger than mine, and she could tell you which ones to use on him to get him to talk without hurting him." Grumbling, I gave in. "Fine. But if I say we have to leave in a hurry, you run without arguing. All right?" Emily nodded.
We worked out the details of a rough plan for how to approach the foster family's apartment, which was on the second f loor of a three-story building on Front Street near the Cane river in the heart of Natchitoches's downtown area.
The directions were a little confusing until we found an actual map of the town, because several of the streets began as one name then suddenly turned into a different name for no apparent reason. This included Front Street, which was called Jefferson Street until you actually reached the downtown section of it, where it switched names.
The biggest problem, however, was parking...there was nowhere nearby large enough to park the truck and trailer without drawing a lot of notice. So we opted to leave the vehicles in a shopping center's parking lot across the river on Keyser Avenue then vamp blur across the bridge and the remaining eight blocks while partially carrying Emily between us so she wouldn't get worn out. And just in case the descendants would be using vamp wards, which we fully expected them to be, Savannah and I spent the rest of the twohour drive energizing charms to block them.
A fan and frequent visitor of Natchitoches, Ms. Evans was sad that we wouldn't be able to see the town's famous Christmas light display and December weekend fireworks show, which drew a ton of tourists every year. The rest of us were more disappointed that we wouldn't have the tourist rush to hide in. But we planned around the less than optimal summer timing. Savannah's parents decided to walk in separately and pretend to be tourists shopping in the area so that they would be close enough to help if needed but our group wouldn't be so large that it would attract notice. We took advantage of our monthly unlimited talk time phone cards and kept a call going between our two groups' phones so they could hear everything we said once we split up in the shopping plaza's parking lot.
Then we were off. To Savannah and me, the summer night felt pretty good, but as soon as we exited the trailer, Emily started muttering about the heat and humidity. The heat of her unborn baby, which already kept her temperature higher than normal, made the heat almost stif ling.
"Hold your breath, sis," I said.
Emily took a deep breath.
With a quick nod to Savannah, I wrapped an arm at Emily's back, Savannah took her other side, then we vamp blurred across the cement bridge, took a right at the intersection and continued without stopping past block after block of colonial and Victorian homes. Along the way, crepe myrtles scented the air with their nearly overpowering f loral perfume. We knew the instant we reached the downtown area because of the sudden wall of orange-ish-brown brick that rose up on our left side, at which point the map had said Jefferson Street turned into Front Street. Now the residential homes were replaced with brick buildings that housed shops and restaurants both historical and relatively new. Roughly half the buildings were two and three stories tall, and most of these featured balconies with intricate black wrought-iron railings, which reminded me of pictures and movies I'd seen of New Orleans.
We didn't slow down until we turned left down Trudeau Street, which gave access to the parking lot and private courtyard for the apartments Mac's foster family lived in. Though the parking lot had a nice wrought-iron and brick fence, it wasn't gated. So we had no trouble entering the premises and slipping right up to the back of the L-shaped building. When we paused, Emily let out her breath, grabbed the small of her back and winced.
"Are you okay?" I whispered.
She nodded.
I scouted out and found the staircase that led us to the second-f loor balcony. From there, it was a simple matter of finding the right apartment.
I wished we could read minds through walls and doors.
It would make this a lot safer. But without that ability, we were forced to take the old-fashioned route and use our eyes and ears, sneaking peeks through the window and listening for any sign of people inside.
Sounds like a TV's on in one of the back rooms, Savannah thought.
I glanced at Emily to make sure she was in place. She stood with her back against the building's brick exterior. The plan was for her to stay there until we'd secured the apartment, then we'd call for her to join us inside. Her scowl indicated how much she loved this part of the plan, but I'd refused to back down on this point. Without the ability to do magic, this was the only way I was comfortable letting her come along.
Okay, let's make this as fast as possible, I told Savannah. I'll bust the door open and take the lead. You stay behind me in case- Excuse me, but I'm perfectly capable of taking the lead. Savan nah arched an eyebrow.
She had a point. Fine. Would you like to go in first? She hesitated. Nah, that's okay, you can go first.
Grinning, I thought, Okay, so like I said. I'll bust the door in and you stay right behind me. Any descendants, hit them with a sleep spell. We should minimize actual damage to anyone as much as possible. Once we find the kid and are done questioning him, we'll erase everyone else's memories. Hopefully there won't be a trail to lead back to us.
She nodded then reached out and squeezed my hand. Love you. Now let's get her done.
Appreciating her attempt to use humor to keep herself loose, I grinned then softly grabbed the apartment's door handle and checked my watch. The entire silent conversation had taken all of two seconds thanks to the speed of vamp thought. Nice. Any descendants inside probably hadn't had time to sense our presence.
Tapping Emily's shoulder to get her attention, I held up one finger human slow, two fingers, three fingers, then shouldered the black wooden door open. The wood frame gave way like softened butter smearing across toast. At the same time, Savannah raised her hands and put out
a silencing spell to cover the entire apartment so the neighbors wouldn't hear anything.
I scanned the living room and adjoining bar area. Clear.
Savannah entered the room behind me, trailing me as I moved down the hall, checking a bathroom and master bedroom suite on the way. The video game noises grew louder as we vamp blurred to the end of the hall to the last door and opened it.
A boy, sitting on his bed playing an XBox, slowly peered up through a sideswept mass of dark brown hair. Or maybe it was the adrenaline rush combined with the vamp ref lexes that made his reaction seem so slow. His eyes widened. He dropped his game controller in his lap, both hands rising through the air as if to throw a spell at us.
I was faster, hitting him with a freezing spell as Emily had coached me to do on the way to Louisiana.
He froze, then his shoulders slumped and his facial muscles went slack.
"Are you Mac Griffin?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Savannah, tell Emily she can come in. The apartment's clear."
Savannah disappeared then reappeared three seconds later.
Emily joined us several seconds after that, muttering a string of curses and complaints as she rammed her shins into objects in the dark along the way.
"This him?" she asked when she finally found the bedroom.
"Yep. What should we ask him?" I said, maintaining eye contact with Mac.
"Let's start with the night of his parents' deaths," Emily said.
"Mac, tell us about the night your parents died," I repeated. Emily had warned us that only the person performing the truth spell could make the commands. Anyone else's directions would simply be ignored.
"I went out with some friends to a movie. It was a Quentin Tarantino movie, lots of blood and stuff. Mom would have killed me if she had known I was seeing it. We had to bribe the ticket guy an extra thirty bucks to let us in since it was rated R. He's such a pr-"
"Tell him to get to the point," Emily grumbled. "I don't want to still be here when his foster parents get back." "Skip to the part where you return home," I told Mac. "Jason was our driver that night. He lived three houses down from us, so I walked home. On the way, I felt..." He hesitated, frowning. One hand drifted up to slowly rub the
center of his chest. "I don't know, weird. Something made me
stop by the cars parked at the curb. And then... And then..." "What happened then?" I said.
His face screwed up into a frown. "I...can't remember.
Something. Something important. Something bad..." "Push him harder," Emily said.
I stared into the kid's eyes. "Try to remember." I pushed out some willpower with the words.
"I...I can't remember."
Pinpricks erupted over my skin. Clann power. Someone else was using nearby.
