“Shhhh.” He smiled. “She called you again at 6 p.m. to tell you how to get Mitch’s location, and asked for a ransom. You called me. I procured the funds. You gave her the money—she gave you Mitch. You gave her two hundred thousand dollars. She said she and Roy were going to disappear with their kids. She wouldn’t tell you where.”

  I nodded.

  “Maggie, you took Mitch and left everything the way it was. You never saw Fae. Understood?”

  My face winced. “Well, there’s a problem—the farmhouse is on fire as we speak, destroyed completely. The barn was obliterated along with a number of trees.”

  “What method?”

  “Air mostly, and some Fire,” I said.

  He looked down for a moment and then smiled.

  “You decided, Maggie, to hide their trail by destroying the house, and thought it best to make it look like a tornado. You set everything on fire to give Roy and Karen a head start.”

  “But Danny, there wasn’t a storm.”

  “Even better. It makes you look like a foolish seventeen-year-old girl.”

  “Foolish?” I protested. “Do they think that?”

  “I know better, but Ozara and the Council already believe it—present company excluded. Use that to your advantage. Now, here is your phone with a record of those calls, and the navigation directions changed to fit your story. Don’t offer it to Ozara. Make her take it from you. She will. That’ll be more believable. Here is the paperwork for the withdrawal I made on your behalf. When they question you about this, keep it simple. Like I tell my clients, the more you volunteer, the bigger the hole you dig.”

  “And if she compels you?”

  “Billy isn’t the only one who can hide his true thoughts.” His baritone voice was full of satisfaction.

  “Thank you, Danny. You’re the best.”

  He grinned, his lion-like face full of condescension. “Indubitably. Shall we get your brother some help?” He looked back at the car and shook his head. “Did you go off-roading?”

  Before I could answer, the car was gleaming like new. Then he handed me what looked like a greeting card in a pale blue envelope.

  “Danny, what’s this for?”

  “Your father’s birthday, remember? The title is in his name. It is inside. You just need to sign the card.”

  It took a moment to gather my wits, and even longer to appreciate just how intelligent he was. “I’d hate to face you in court. You think of everything.” He raised an eyebrow, took my hand, and dragged me to the others.

  ***

  My scheming mind worked through hundreds of ways the Fae could sneak us into the hospital, each one more terrific than the last, but in the end we simply walked in. Sherman compelled everyone we saw, while Billy altered the security cameras and compelled anyone watching them to see nothing. Candidly, I hadn’t thought of the direct approach. It terrified me just how easily the Fae could walk into any place, regardless of the security, and simply have their way.

  Billy lifted Drevek off the bed and Sherman placed Mitch in his place. The sensors moved through the air and attached to Mitch as his grungy clothes transformed into a clean hospital gown. The monitors in the room never missed a beat.

  Sherman studied Mitch for a few minutes and then turned, smiling. “He’ll be awake in a few minutes. Perhaps you should call your parents.”

  The air rushed out of my lungs and I crumpled to the floor without an ounce of strength to steady myself. I heaved with uncontrollable sobs and experienced the most amazing sense of relief I’d ever known. Sara and Billy caught me before I hit the tile. When I looked up at Sara, her eyes were full of tears. It took a minute to catch enough breath to mutter the words, “Thank you.”

  Whether it was my fault or not, Mitch had been abducted because of me and I didn’t realize until that moment how much guilt I’d been carrying around. Mitch was back, he was safe, and he would recover. Somehow I’d managed to correct the hideous wrong that had been done to him.

  Sara and the others seemed content to let me recover at my own pace. It took a few more minutes, but I stopped blubbering and moved to hold Mitch’s hand. Sherman called Mom and Dad, because I was too shaken to talk, and he thought I might scare them to death if I got emotional before I could choke the words out.

  With my parents on the way, the Fae began discussing what to do with Drevek. At my urging, Sherman healed him as much as possible, though he never woke.

  “Sherman?”

  “Yes?”

  “Is there any way to give Mitch a trim, you know, hair and nails, so he doesn’t look so wooly when Mom and Dad get here?”

  “Certainly.”

  Sherman worked for a minute or two, and other than the difference in their heights, he managed to match their appearances. Satisfied with the Fae makeover, Danny, Billy, and Victoria escorted Drevek back to the Weald. They promised, if possible, to wait for me to return before notifying Ozara.

  Sara and Sherman waited with me. I tucked Dad’s birthday card inside my purse, because I knew he wouldn’t care less about the car for the next few days. Closing my eyes for the first time since beginning of the frantic day, I saw Cassandra’s face in my thoughts. Burned there was the horrified look on her face in the seconds before she died. She was a despicable monster, cruel and malevolent, but I felt a pang of guilt as I remembered her face the instant before it disappeared. I opened my eyes, hoping to replace the image with something else in the room, anything. Sara and Sherman stared at me, unaware of what was playing in my mind.

  Sara whispered, “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, I think, just emotionally exhausted. I can’t believe we have him back.”

  In a weak voice, barely louder than a whisper, Mitch said, “Who?”

  “Mitch? Oh, my god, you’re awake!”

  He blinked his eyes, bloodshot and sunken but just as green as the leaves in the Weald. He muttered, “Where?”

  “You’re in the hospital. You’ve been sick for a while.”

  He closed his eyes and dozed off without another word. Sherman told me to expect that to happen a few more times as he gradually came to his senses. He said he would speed up the process when my parents arrived.

  We didn’t have to wait for long. At a little past 10 p.m. my family piled into the room. Grandma and Mom clutched each other, noting how much healthier Mitch looked. Dad took Mitch’s hand on the opposite side of the bed from me and began whispering to him. Tears streaked Mom’s face as I recounted his first waking moment in months. As Sherman explained that Mitch would be very groggy when he woke up, and might not be awake for long, Mitch moved on his own.

  “Mitch? Honey?” Mom choked out.

  “Yeah?” he said weakly.

  Mom’s next words made no sense—she spoke in broken Spanish and English, completely intermixed and entirely incoherent through her choked sobs.

  He opened his eyes a little and stared at her, confused and perturbed. “What?”

  Mitch struggled to free himself from Mom’s embrace, and it took Dad’s gentle nudge to dislodge her so he could breath. When he closed his eyes again, Dad asked whether Mitch had suffered any permanent damage. Sherman gave Dad the classic doctor’s response that everything looked fine, but only time would tell. Sherman focused on Mitch again while Mom and Dad reassured themselves that he would be okay.

  Mitch mumbled something that I didn’t quite understand. Dad shushed everyone, and asked Mitch to repeat it.

  In a weak voice, Mitch said, “Did we win?”

  “Did we win what?”

  A frown formed on his face and he opened one eye, focusing on Dad. “The Cotton Bowl, duh?”

  Mom and Dad exchanged a quick look, probably wondering why he’d forgotten watching it with Dad, but they seemed to accept Sherman’s explanation.

  “Yes, we won,” Dad finally answered.

  A smile spread on Mitch’s face and then the dimples formed. “Is it recorded?”

  Now laughing, Dad confirmed
that we had the game recorded. Then Mitch said something that put everyone at ease—a clear sign he would be fine.

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  ***

  After an hour, I left my parents and grandparents to coo over Mitch, and drove back to the Weald with Sara. As soon as we were in the car, she purposely guided our conversation to subjects completely unrelated to Mitch’s rescue. Nothing would have made me happier than to confide in her, to have a sounding board, just a shoulder to lean on, but I knew for both of our sakes the charade was best.

  Even though I knew with complete certainly that Ozara was about to grill me over what transpired, and I had my story ready to go, I could not get Cassandra’s face out of my mind. I had killed, and I knew my murderous rampage was born more out of revenge than necessity. It left me feeling dirty and hollow inside. Would I ever shake the feeling? Could I get over ending the existence of a being older than the human race? A mile from the gate to Sherman and Victoria’s house it occurred to me that I was grieving. Not for Cassandra, whom I truly loathed. No, I was grieving for myself. Something, even though I didn’t know what, had died inside me the moment she disappeared in that horrific flash.

  TWENTY-NINE

  RETRIBUTION

  Humidity was a permanent resident of the Ozarks, especially in late June. It was the first thing I noticed when I opened the door of the Shelby. The warm, sticky night air was made almost pleasant by a light breeze out of the southwest. A few clouds lingered in the night sky, occasionally drifting past the full moon. Sara and I pulled up to the front of Sherman and Victoria’s cottage and parked next to my Thunderbird, which appeared pale gray in the low light.

  When I finally allowed my senses to spread out, I wished I hadn’t. There were more than a hundred Fae gathered with the Council in the clearing above the bluff.

  Though I could have easily cleared the distance from the Byrne’s cottage to the council area on my own, Sara took my hand and lifted us onto the bench, past horses staring at us from the stable windows. Like a collection of beautiful statutes, the Fae stood silently in the open area. There the moon seemed brighter than it had just a moment before. The soft lunar beams lit each smooth immortal face and glinted delicately on hair and gown alike. Movement in the sky caught my attention. The clouds split and circled around the moon, seamlessly connecting on the other side like two dancing partners performing an elaborate waltz.

  Sara maintained her grip on my hand as we floated to the place where the Council gathered, in the center of the large, opening atop the first line of bluffs. Ozara was the first to move, gliding smoothly in front of me. If I had to guess, I’d say her amber eyes looked happy. She took my hands and allowed a broad smile to fill her face.

  “We only just heard the good news. You must be so relieved.”

  “Yes Ma’am.”

  “And your brother will recover?”

  Good lord, really? She knew the answer already—everyone gathered there did. Was she really that desperate to appear sincere?

  “Yes, Sherman is seeing to it.”

  “He is the best. You’ll be happy to know, now that we have your brother safe…”

  I found the pronoun “we” offensive, but didn’t react.

  “…we’ve captured the rogues responsible for the abduction.”

  The news caused me to lose control of my jaw muscles. I stood there, mouth agape, just staring at her. The prospect of Chalen in custody affected me like a drug—I was delirious.

  “Where are they?” I finally asked, almost growling.

  “They are close, but please, we’ve all gathered to hear how you accomplished this incredible rescue by yourself. Just this morning you were prepared to give up.”

  In the calmest voice I could manage, and as concisely as possible, I recounted Danny’s version of events. Ozara questioned me about the disappearing act at Basin Park. She’d already spoken to Smokey and Gusty, who were in human form and standing just a few feet away.

  Since I’d learned how to form Clóca, I decided that showing them the simple energy barrier was probably not revealing too much. I channeled the night air and disappeared from their senses even though I was perfectly visible to their physical eyes. Ozara studied me, touching the barrier before turning to Gusty, who had taken the form of a beautiful blonde woman. She nodded when Ozara silently asked if I was being honest. Several Council members silently commented on how effective the screen was, and confirmed Billy’s belief that none of them had ever seen it before.

  Ozara continued to interrogate me and, as Danny predicted, she asked for my phone. She buzzed through the screens confirming the call times, and then asked me for more details about meeting the family that held Mitch. I navigated the questions, keeping it simple.

  When Ozara asked me whether I’d encountered any Fae, I exhaled and said, “Thankfully, no. I got in and got out.” She studied me long enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I knew she thought I was lying. She also couldn’t prove it, and I wasn’t about to give myself up—we were both playing games.

  Ozara’s face finally relaxed and she made a silent command that I heard as clear as a bell. “Bring them.” Three Seelie, who I only recognized as having been guards in the garden last year, escorted four Unseelie into the clearing. One of them was Alain, the dark haired Fae I’d seen at the farmhouse. I didn’t recognize the other three.

  “These are the rogues responsible for your brother’s kidnapping,” Ozara said with complete confidence.

  Well, some of them. Dresha, Chalen, and Markus were also involved.

  Before I could ask, Billy did. “They acted alone?”

  Ozara replied, “No, Cassandra was involved, but we have not yet located her. There are other rogues who conspired with them, of course, and we will pursue retribution with all haste, but these three were directly responsible.”

  Something was wrong. Even if Alain had lied, I knew Ozara could have peered into his mind. Surely she knew Chalen and the Unseelie clan were involved? Not that it mattered, I suppose. When it came to punishing their own, Fae justice was pitiful. This was all a front for my benefit, and I expected nothing more than an eternal ban from the physical realm that would last a few months.

  What was worse, the accused didn’t seem to be very concerned. Alain was disinterested, smug even. His reaction made me angry. I glared at him, allowing my anger to boil on the surface so he could read it. He got the gist of my message and turned away with dismissive nonchalance, sending his own message right back to me.

  Ozara’s voice was unusually harsh, and it matched the expression on her face when she turned to them. “This terrorism must stop. I believe it is time to send a message to every rogue and malcontent among our kind that the Seelie Clan will no longer tolerate such behavior.”

  All eyes focused on Ozara, and even Alain seemed surprised by the acidity in her tone. He turned his head and locked his black eyes directly on her. In disbelief, I watched as she tilted her head to the left, just slightly, and allowed a wicked smile to form. Then in a blink, she screamed, her voice full of rage, and the four rogues joined her in an agonizing chorus before Aether consumed them. Four bright flashes temporarily overpowered the moonlight.

  A sharp breath caught in my throat as I jumped, and I tried to pull free of Ozara’s grip. Our fingers were tangled and she tightened her grasp just enough to keep a hold on me.

  “Relax, Maggie, my dear. You have nothing to fear.” She turned her blazing amber eyes to the Fae guards and silently commanded them to bring Drevek. My heart began beating faster.

  Still in Mitch’s form, Drevek was conscious and trembling. He’d seen what Ozara did to the others. My mind wandered to his body, and I sensed the Aether still lodged in his chest. I turned my eyes and stared at Ozara, terrified of what was about to happen.

  “And what shall we do with you?” Ozara’s voice was soft but ominous. Her warm facial expression belied the anger I sensed boiling unde
rneath.

  Drevek tried to plead for his life, but Ozara’s expression transformed, gradually becoming harsher with every word. His begging worked like fuel for her burning fury. Sure, Drevek had been involved in the plot, but he had tried to help me find Mitch and I’d forgiven him. My breathing became more labored.

  “I believe there is but one solution,” she said. Billy and I exchanged looks, and he shook his head slightly when he recognized what I was about to do.

  “Ozara, please,” I said.

  Dead silence.

  A hint of warmth returned to her expression. “Yes?”

  “Please, spare him.”

  Ozara studied my face, genuinely bewildered. My request caught her off-guard. It caught them all off-guard. “What did she say?” The words rang in my head as the Seelie began silently conversing. Another asked, “Why would she spare him?” I ignored them and focused on Ozara. After an awkward moment of silence, she relaxed. “Very well.”

  Victoria silently applauded me, saying, “Compassion for our kind, more than many of you possess. A lesson from a human child. Perhaps we should re-evaluate her.”

  Ozara put an immediate end to it by silently commanding, “This is neither the time, nor the place to have this conversation.”

  The muscles in my chest relaxed, and my breathing slowed as I thanked Ozara and turned to Drevek. “Change shapes. Never take my brother’s form again.”

  Ozara pulled the Aether out of Drevek’s body, and he shifted. Pale skin, dark blond hair, large pale blue eyes, and chiseled features—predictably, he was beautiful. He looked Eastern European. After a slight nod, and what I thought was a smile, he changed into his natural form and shot away.

  ***

  Back at the empty cottage, I went upstairs and stretched out on my bed. The small porcelain lamp on the nightstand cast soft light around the end of the room and reflected off the diamond panes of the window, which against the ink black night on the other side acted like so many mirrors. It was odd having the time to stare at my reflection, to simply do nothing. For months I’d been too consumed with rescuing Mitch to allow for a few minutes of mindless gawking. Doing nothing was one thing, relaxing was quite another. Despite having Mitch back, I found it impossible to relax.