Elves Invasion

36

“Tell me you bought me something cooler than this,” Una said as she held up a cardigan.

Windyard laughed under his breath. Sorry, Una, but even you have to blend in while we travel. This is a big risk we’re taking, he said in mindspeak.

But less risky than trying to travel in your world, Ava added, in case Windyard was gearing up to say it was too dangerous. He didn’t, though. Nor did he grumble about Ava taking risks that he didn’t want her to take. There were no safe options anymore, and no conscionable way to stay on the sidelines.

“We’d better get our stuff together and go,” Windyard said.

“Don’t you want to take a quick swim?” Tristan asked him as he paddled around.

Windyard looked at the pool, and then out at the ocean and horizon that blended seamlessly with its edge—aqua to azure to sapphire to the clouds. “No,” he said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

The coven took turns cleaning up and changing into their new clothes. Caleb checked and double-checked the car and the supplies.

“You know, if we’re missing anything we can stop pretty much anywhere and get it,” Breakfast told him.

“I’m just looking,” Caleb said defensively. “I want to know what we have and don’t have.”

“Forget it, Breakfast,” Tristan said, smiling. “Caleb lives to worry about supplies.”

“You know, there are so many great trails in Yosemite,” Eye said, joining them. “It’d be a shame for you to miss out on them.” He was trying to sound casual, but the attempt only made him sound more desperate.

He looks strung out, Una said in mindspeak. I feel bad for the guy.

Don’t, Ava told her. He’s much better off without us.

Eye was still waiting for some kind of acknowledgment of his offer, but no one spoke up. There was no delicate way left for any of them to say that he wasn’t invited, so they just ignored him and kept packing.

“Thanks so much for all your help,” Ava said to Eye as they were preparing to leave. “Tell the guy”—she gestured to the house, indicating its owner—“that we said thank you.”

“Sure,” Eye said. His face was tight with bitterness.

As Breakfast pulled the mom van out of the driveway, Ava waved good-bye to him in a friendly way. He didn’t wave back.

Carrick finally found the house they were staying at in time to watch the coven pack up their vehicle and drive off, leaving a forlorn young man in their wake.

Carrick turned to his side and retched into the bushes. His vision was blurry and his head throbbed with every pulse of his heart. The blow he’d suffered from the Warrior Sister had left him unconscious for half a day. The Hive had left him for dead, and he might have slipped into the unwakeable sleep but for Lillian’s constant calling and prodding inside his mind.

She would not let him die. Not while she needed him. She reminded him over and over that he was hers to kill, and no other’s.

Carrick had pulled himself up, the ground tilting and reeling, to find that Lillian had worldjumped him to Ava’s universe to follow and to watch. The glade around him bore the signs of the coven’s overnight stay and it showed him their path as easily as if it had been illuminated, but once the coven had reached the main road they had been much harder to track.

His vision was damaged, adding annoyance to his list of problems. Carrick used all his senses when he tracked and didn’t rely solely on his vision, but it certainly helped. Unable to focus his eyes, Carrick had started to wander in the dark last night, perilously close to the edge of the cliffs. The throbbing in his head was so bad it had tempted him to give up, lie down, and die, but again Lillian would not allow it.

She and Ava had finally come to an agreement about some things, but Ava was still too idealistic for Lillian’s peace of mind. Ava didn’t want innocents to die. How quaint. Lillian sent Carrick along behind them to make sure that if there was something distasteful that Lillian wanted done, she need not negotiate with Ava. Carrick would do the dirty work, if there was any to be found. And there was always dirty work.

Her insistence that he continue on after the coven was an exquisite t*****e. Never had he been so called to sleep and so unable to attain it. When he tried to let himself slip off into the roaring dark, she had taken possession of his body, forcing it to stand, and denying him his release. Never had he been so cruelly driven. He had learned to love his witch for that, and could only hope Ava would be just as harsh with him as Lillian had been after she died.

That time was approaching fast. The loss of Juliet had made Lillian’s inner fire burn twice as bright with vengeance. But twice as bright meant twice as fast, and soon, Carrick knew, she would be burnt out. He just hoped he was far away from her when she went. A witch that strong always took out others with her when she died, especially if she died in the middle of a battle, and Carrick couldn’t imagine his witch dying any other way.

Carrick watched the large, tan-colored vehicle carry the coven away toward the main road and sank down on his knees next to his puddle of sick. He’d lost them again. For now. The numbers on the plate were sealed in his memory. The throbbing in his head turned to blackness.

Carrick. Wake up. Carrick . . .

Lillian roused his mind back to pain. He focused on the dull agony and took a long breath to savor it before opening his eyes.

It was night. Blue and red lights flashed in the driveway and on the street surrounding the house where Ava’s coven had stayed. Men and women in uniforms paced about the grounds, searching. He saw a woman get out of a plain black car. Her boxy body and wiry, graying hair were familiar. It was the agent who had hounded Ava and her family on Ava’s last sojourn in this world. Simms.

Find out what that woman knows, Lillian ordered.