Page 21

Chapter

Twenty

“ W hat ?”

“The last time any of us saw you was around dawn on Friday morning,” Ida repeated.

Ronan .

I glanced out the window. It was dark out, and the stars shone like cosmic glitter scattered across the indigo sky.

“How long has it been?” I asked in a flat, dead voice.

Ronan .

“It’s Monday night.”

Three days. I’d lost three days beneath the soil.

Ronan .

“We wanted to dig you out, but Margaux told us to leave you alone,” Ida said. “That it needed to be done, and you’d come out when you were finished.”

Frustration built in me until I felt like a shaken bottle of champagne with a super-glued cork. I couldn’t even be angry with the witch because she was right. It had needed to be done. Should’ve been done weeks, months— years —ago .

Damn it all.

I threw the red robe on my bed and dressed in jeans, an old Queen T-shirt of Mom’s, and my black boots with the stacked heels. Though I hadn’t gotten any sleep, I was wide awake and energized.

Ronan .

I excused myself and went into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. After slathering moisturizer over my face and neck, I pulled out my makeup drawer. How long had it been since I’d worn this stuff? Days? A week? Two?

Ronan .

No sense starting now. I had other priorities.

I tossed the tube of dark red lipstick back into the drawer and strode into the kitchen, where I asked the question that had been gnawing at me.

“What’s happening with Ronan?”

Trini looked up from the coffee pot. Ida was at the counter making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Fennel was perched on a dining chair with Cecil and the three-pawed kitten.

“We still don’t know,” Gladys said from behind me. “He hasn’t come back to the pub. Karen’s running it in his absence. Edie Blanton and I’ve been helping. Calvin Holland and some of the seniors from the Desert Oasis Apartments, too.”

I accepted a mug of coffee from Trini. “Floyd kicked him out of the pack, you know. He’s been forsworn.”

“I heard.”

“What I don’t understand is why no one could reach him through the bonds before then.” I set the mug down before I dropped it. My breathing quickened, hands shook. Terror filled me, beat on the insides of my skull, punched the breath from my lungs. “Why hasn’t anyone found him yet?”

“I don’t know,” Gladys said.

“Do you think he’s dead?” I asked flatly.

To her credit, the elder wolf didn’t flinch. “It’s a possibility, but not the only one. Not even, to my way of thinking, the most likely one. ”

“Why not?”

“Because if Ronan were dead, Floyd wouldn’t be running scared. And he is. He’s summoned me into his presence five times since you disappeared. He thinks you’re hiding him.”

She sat on the chair next to Fennel’s and picked up the black kitten, stroked its triangular ears. The kitten purred, oblivious to the danger most cats would feel in the arms of their natural enemy.

“Did you tell him where I was?”

“Nope.”

“But Floyd’s your alpha,” I said. “You have to obey him.”

“I didn’t know where you were until a few minutes ago. How could I have told him?” She smiled. “Plus, I’ve got this. Helps me resist.” She dug inside her blouse and held up a necklace with a flat metal charm. One of Margaux’s.

The witch had been busy.

“Have you heard anything new from Alpha Lydia?” I asked the room.

“No, sorry.” Ida handed me a plate. “Try to eat, okay?”

Although the strawberry jelly was homemade and the peanut butter fresh, the sandwich was sawdust in my mouth. I washed it down with black coffee. I almost never drank it without cream, but today I wanted to feel the heat. I needed something to warm the iceberg in my gut.

Ice .

I had an idea. It was probably a terrible one, but anything was better than sitting around waiting for the rats to come up with information.

“I’m going out.”

Ida folded her arms across her chest. “Need company?”

“Not this time, thanks.”

“You’re going to look for Ronan?” The lines around Gladys’s eyes deepened. “Betty, it’s dangerous for you out there. Alpha’s on a rampage. You can bet he’s got wolves he trusts watching you. The second you step off this land, he’s going to do something. ”

“I know.” I leaned down and whispered in Cecil’s ear.

The gnome nodded and took off for the garden room with Fennel.

“What if we ask the rats to help?” Ida dropped her arms and fished in her pocket. “I can call. Alpha Lydia and I are tight now. Found out she’s a Kpop fan. She likes Stray Kids more than BTS, but nobody’s perfect.”

“No, thanks. I need to do this alone.”

Fennel and Cecil met me on the porch. Neither looked happy, although, to be fair, Cecil almost never did.

The porch radio was still on, and “Billy Don’t Be A Hero” by Bo Donaldson and The Heywoods was halfway over. Frankly, I would’ve preferred a repeat of The Chairmen of the Board’s “Give Me Just A Little More Time.”

Cecil handed me the package I’d asked him to put together.

“Thanks.” I forced a smile. “You gotta trust me, okay? It’s important I do this by myself. I’ll alert Ida if I run into trouble and need backup.”

My partners looked at each other then nodded.

“Be good while I’m gone. Take care of your new kitty, Cecil.”

The gnome shook his head like a windshield wiper in a rainstorm and held up his tiny hands.

Fennel nodded.

“Yeah, we both know you’re lying. She’s definitely yours.” I pointed to the garden room. “Why is your kitty the only one not being kept in there?”

Cecil shrugged. Fennel meowed.

Although I didn’t always understand them, I did this time. “Adopted? All of them?”

“Yep.” Ida stepped out onto the porch. “Cecil’s cat is the only one left. The Brittons adopted two, Alpha Lydia took another two, and—you’ll never believe this—Maria took the other one.”

“Senora Cervantes took a cat?”

“The real fluffy one. Maria says she’s a ragdoll or something like that. I don’t know cat breeds. Already named her. Petra, or something like that.”

I had to admit, the news that the grumpy senora had adopted one of the kittens made the world feel a little less bleak for a moment.

“That cat’ll be a holy terror,” Ida said. “Spoiled rotten.”

“As she should be.” I looked at their worried faces—even Cecil seemed concerned. The tip of his hat drooped. “I’ll be okay, guys.”

“Of course you will.” Ida sat on the swing. “We just want you to know we’ve got your back if you need us. Meredith, too. You know, if you need some scary screaming.”

“Thanks.”

On my way out of the park, I knelt at Red’s grave. The tiniest hint of a spiny seedling poked its green head from the soil. It was what I’d spent three days underground making happen. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

But I was.

“Did you see this?” I asked the Cecil-shaped blur. My eyes had filled with tears until I could barely make him out.

His hat bobbed.

“Keep watch over him, okay? Make sure he has everything he needs to grow strong and healthy.”

Another bob and a harrumph. Cecil didn’t need to be told to protect the living things here. It was in his blood to do so.

I rose, bringing a handful of soil with me. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Live and Let Die” by Paul McCartney and Wings blared through the Mini’s speakers as I bulleted down the back roads, dodging a harvester and passing a sluggish hay truck and an ancient Cadillac El Dorado going twenty miles per hour.

“Don’t start,” I said to the DJ and snapped the radio off.

I parked the Mini by the front office and didn’t bother going in. I was pretty sure I knew where I was going to find him, and it wasn’t going to be behind a desk filling out paperwork or answering phones.

Besides, it was well after eight p.m. The office was closed.

Whispering Willow Cemetery was deserted, but it felt far from empty. Mounds of soil were piled before shadowed headstones. Windblown tree branches created spindly fingers on the narrow dirt walkway. A shiver walked the knobs of my spine, and I had the strangest feeling that if I made the wrong move, I’d be invited to join the local residents.

Or compelled.

I hurried down the path that led to Sexton’s small domicile. It wasn’t a house. It was far too small to properly house anyone larger than a squirrel. It wasn’t a shed, either. People kept tools in a shed.

My guess: it was a doorway to wherever Bertrand Sexton went when he wasn’t here. There was no way to know for sure. I wasn’t about to go inside.

I knocked on the heavy door, my knuckles making a thin, metallic sound against the wood. Weird. But then, this was Sexton. It would’ve been easier to count the things that weren’t weird about this place.

“Paging Lord Bertrand Sexton,” I said.

The door opened, and a whoosh of frigid air blew me back several steps. “Betty?”

“Yes. It’s me. Sorry I didn’t call first.” I rubbed my upper arms in an attempt to warm up. The temperature tonight was mild, but that breeze had been deep-freeze cold. “I, uh, need something, and I think you’re the only one who can help me.”

He exited the doorway in a tangle of elbow twists, knee bends, and head bobs. The demon was, after all, seven feet tall with the build of a gaunt insect, and the doorway barely seemed large enough for me to fit through.

“You are in need, and you have come to me. I am pleased.” The smile that spread across his face was made of square white teeth all of a similar size. Like the way a kid might draw dentures. It wasn’t his usual smile, and it creeped me right the hell out.

Nevertheless, I continued.

“I brought you a gift.” I held out the package Cecil had prepared. “Belladonna tea. The demon-grown strain is flourishing in my partner’s care.”

That was probably because the plant and gnome had a lot in common. Both were mostly good but also sort of evil.

“There’ll be more soon,” I said. “Cecil and I are just, eh, trying to be careful how much we harvest. As you know, it’s difficult to grow demonic plants in this world.”

“Wonderful. I thank you and Mr. Cecil.” He held out a skeletal hand, and I set the package in his palm. His cold fingers sprang like a trap, ensnaring me in his grasp. Every grain of soil clinging to my hand made a hard jump to the left.

“Uh, Sexton?”

“You carry your living soil on your flesh.” The creepy smile widened. “You have established a connection with the mother.”

An odd way to put it, but this was Sexton.

“Yes.”

“Yet, you do not seem happy.”

“I’m not. See, there’s this guy.” Saying it like that imbued the situation with a casualness I definitely wasn’t feeling. “Not just a guy. A man. An important man.” I cleared my throat. “It’s Ronan Pallás. He’s missing.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I’ve looked for him,” I said, my voice breaking. “No one knows where he is or even if he’s alive.”

“You would like me to ascertain his standing in the realms?”

Again, a strange way to put it, but also again, this was Sexton.

“I need to know that he’s all right.”

“And if you discover he does not want to be found?”

Ouch. The idea that Ronan had run away without letting me know and was perfectly fine somewhere while I was sick with worry and looking for him hurt. Hard shot to the kidneys sort of pain.

Yet it had been the song playing on the radio in my head these last few days as I searched for the witches. A haunting, back-of-the-brain dirge that dragged out all my insecurities surrounding my feelings for him.

“If it turns out he doesn’t want to be found, I can accept that.”

“Can you?”

“Am I going to love it? No. Will I accept it? Yes.”

If I’d offended him with my snappish tone, he didn’t show it. “Very well.” He folded into a cross-legged position on the grass.

Although he was still tall even when seated, it felt awkward not to sit, too, so I plopped into the grass beside him. Dampness seeped into the seat of my jeans, making me cold and uncomfortable.

“You will allow me silence in which to work.” His eyelids closed like window shades, snapping in place at the end.

Silence and I hadn’t been the best of friends lately, not including my time underground. Now I was sitting on wet grass in a cemetery at a quarter to nine p.m. with a demon who didn’t want me to talk. It didn’t get quieter than that.

I entertained myself with imaginary, empty threats aimed at Ronan.

So help me, if you ran off with someone, I’m going to punch you in the jaw so hard your teeth will shoot straight into your brain.

If you’re hiding because you don’t have the guts to break up with me, even though we never actually made it official-official, we’re going to have to go to the emergency room to have my foot surgically removed from your ass.

If you’re hiding, and you’re hurt, and you’re trying to protect me from your father, I’m going to be furious. I might not choke you, but I’m definitely going to destroy your YouTube algorithm to favor videos of wolves having their asses kicked in the wild.

“Ronan, please stop hiding. I need to know you’re okay. Even if you don’t want to be with me, I just need to know. ”

That one wasn’t cathartic at all. It was just plain embarrassing.

“Yes, it was a little embarrassing,” Sexton said.

“Are you reading my mind?”

“You spoke out loud.”

Great. Nothing like setting all the insecurities on the front page of the newspaper for everyone to read.

“Your Ronan is alive.” His eyelids rolled up. “Does this help you, granddaughter?”

Granddaughter? Not sure I’d ever be used to hearing that. “Yes.”

“It bothers you when I call you that.”

I sighed. “Sexton, I’m so filled with anxiety and worry, I can’t seem to separate it all.”

“I understand, Betty.”

The look in his sunken, cavernous eyes made me feel like I’d bullied a kindergartener. “I haven’t been called that since my abuela died, and even then, she mostly called me nieta. Give me time.”

He perked up. As much as a millennia-old demon was capable of, anyway. “I will.”

I cleared my throat. “Do you know where he is?”

“Yes. He is close.”

“Like here? In the cemetery?” I sprang to my feet and spun around. “Or do you mean in the town? Wait, is he at my house? Did he show up after I left? The pub? Where?” Excitement mixed with hope and fear and joy and came out as a giant ball of anxiety. “Please tell me. I’ll bring you all the belladonna you want. I’ll walk into Purgatory and pluck it from Gnath’s wife’s garden myself,” I said, referring to a demon I’d had some experiences with recently.

“That won’t be necessary. I can brew several pots of homesickness tea with the amount you have provided me.” A series of cracks and creaks behind me told me that he, too, had risen. “And you do not need to bribe me to help you. I will always do my best to lend you aid.”

This from the being who’d nearly given me frostbite from a phone conversation. More than once .

But then I supposed lots of families had complicated relationships.

“An individual in Smokethorn helped him hide. This person has limited power and robust rage. I am pleased with the wolf’s choice of allies in this instance.”

“Who?”

“One of Lucifer’s favorites.” The square-toothed smile appeared again. “A politician.”