Page 6 of Gray Dawn

“Hey, Marita.” I couldn’t wipe away my smile. “Mind if Dad puts you down?”

“Not at all.” She quit wriggling. “I want a head start.”

Poor Derry. He didn’t stand a chance. Maybe Dad sensed that and made his descent as slow as possible.

Hands on my hips, I watched the spectacle. “Anyone want to tell me why you got airlifted into camp?”

“Oh.” She swung from Dad’s grip, landing with a soft thump. “I just wanted to know how it felt to fly.”

As I exhaled, my head wilted on my neck. “And Derry was chasing you because…?”

“Saint can only carry one, and I weigh less.”

“That…” I was still foggy on the why of it, but sure. “That makes sense.”

“Blay would like to fly,” he tossed out casually. “Like in Super Mystics.”

The commercial for what must be the latest Mystic Realms moneymaker made me snort. Then it hit me. Like a city bus going sixty-five through a crowded pedestrian crosswalk.

Colby isn’t here.

Not to put him up to reciting an infomercial.

Not to cackle behind his back like it had been his idea all along.

Not to fly laps around the ceiling, evading capture and a lecture on her spending habits.

“Also?” Marita leaned around me and stuck her tongue out at Derry. “I said upsies first.”

As soon as Derry got his legs under him, she ducked past Blay, tackling her mate.

While they wrestled, naked, I decided I would rather be somewhere else.Anywhereelse. “Dad?”

He trailed after me, still aloft to avoid the wargs, until I reached the edge of the cliff where I had the best view.

Upon spotting the Kellies’ helicopter, and its cargo, he landed then joined me with a quizzical brow.

“As much as I love Marita and Derry, I’m not sure why they’re here.”

“We need their noses.” He watched the box sway on its chains. “They’re familiar with Clay’s scent.”

And Colby’s, but he and Mom didn’t know the full story there yet. “That only matters if we get close.”

“Your mother also believes the moral support will help.” He cleared his throat. “She’s often right.”

“She was right.” I screwed up my courage to dart in and hug him. “Thanks, Dad.”

He settled his hands on my back, soft as a whisper, before I rocked back on my heels to check on the wargs. Their wrestling match had devolved into a make out session. No surprise there.

“The Kellies are our best hope for finding Father.” He grimaced as he noticed the Mayhews making up with as much enthusiasm as they had fought. “They know where his safe houses are located and where his personal funds are kept. What they don’t know, they can speculate enough to discover.”

“I’m counting on it.” I rubbed my chest, over the dormant Hunk. “Clay is smart and clever and…”

“I’m sorry.” Dad shifted his weight but decided against another embrace. “I know he was your friend.”

“Is.” I curled my fingers into my palms. “Notwas.”

“You can’t trust him.” He settled for resting a hand on my shoulder. “He’s not himself.”