Page 16 of Gray Dawn

Given time, which we now had to get to know one another, we had a second chance. All of us. Together.

A text chime sent me searching for my phone, and the number caused my gut to clench.

“Fergal,” I told everyone. “Maybe he’s got good news from ground zero.”

With Isiforos traveling with the Kellies, that left Fergal in charge of Arden and the former compound.

>>Thirteen humans dead in Charlotte after eating tainted food.

>North Carolina? That’s a big jump from Massachusetts.

>>Not by plane. They’re both major airline hubs.

As tempting as it was to send Fergal to deal with this latest outbreak in my place, I couldn’t shake the certainty settling into my bones that I should go too. Premonition wasn’t a talent of mine, but I sensed a weight to this decision. I needed to be in Charlotte. I wasn’t sure why yet, but I couldn’t ignore my surety.

Drawing in a long breath, I made the choice to listen to my inner voice.

>Leave ground zero in the hands of the team leader.

>We’ll meet you in Charlotte.

CHAPTER SIX

Colby

The golem didn’t typelike Clay. Nobody else would notice, but I did. The difference made me sad.

Clay was spurts of fingers on keys then stretches of quiet when he got distracted. Usually by food or an email about a sale on wigs or clearance clothes or discounted tech. He was kind of a shopaholic.

The golem was steady and focused and silent.

When he stood and stretched, he peeked into his pocket and checked on me.

“I need to pee,” I blurted. “I have to go really bad.”

“You’re a moth.”

“I’m a little girl spelled to look like a moth.”

That wasn’t the truth anymore, but this version of Clay didn’t know any better.

“Bathroom?” He massaged his throat as words became harder for him to wrangle. “Toilet?”

“Yes.” I fluttered my wings. “Let me out, and I’ll go straight there and come straight back.”

For a moment, he studied me, his expression slipping and sliding on his face. Then he examined his room with the same focus. He stood, closed the vents, and stuffed a towel in the crack under the door.

The spark of hope he would underestimate me flickered and died as he finished moth-proofing the room.

With that done, he withdrew the jar and set it on the counter next to the toilet. “Quick.”

“Okay.” I did the best potty dance I could manage. “Thank you.”

The lid unscrewed into his palm, and he watched me climb out and stretch my cramped wings.

“Can I have some privacy?” I rubbed my front legs together. “I’m embarrassed to go in front of you.”

A sigh parted his lips, and he turned his back.