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Max paused in the midst of sitting down. “Come again?”
“That’s who you’re looking for, isn’t it?”
Max sat, Dallas doing the same. “No,” he said. “My sister’s name is Maya.”
Dallas said, “Who’s this Anna girl?”
“She’s a missing Darkslayer from Yveswich.”
“A Darkslayer?” Max asked. That explained why Paul had jumped to conclusions; a Darkslayer looking for another Darkslayer made a lot of sense.
What didn’t make sense was how and why a Darkslayer would’ve gone missing. Darkslayers didn’t go missing—they did the abducting. They died sometimes, sure, but their deaths were almost always swept under the rug, not broadcasted all over the news as missing people in need of being found. And if their deaths weren’t swept under the rug by the underworld, the bodies were left right out in the open. Darkslayers weren’t afraid of killing, nor were they afraid of facing law enforcement for first-degree murder. Of course, law enforcement rarely bothered with murder trials for Darkslayers; they preferred to turn the other cheek. While some cops and court judges hated Darkslayers with a passion, most tolerated them with a grudge, knowing full well they wouldn’t be able to handle the massive amount of demons and criminals in every city without them.
Paul held up his hands in innocence. “It’s just what I heard. Police were poking around town not too long ago, but I’m not sure if they found anything.” He clicked onto the computer and typed in a passcode. “How can I help? I’m assuming you’d like to see some records?”
“Three men rented one of your cars and drove it to Angelthene a few weeks ago. It turned up in a lake in Vampire Territory. Were you aware of that?”
Paul clicked the mouse several times. “We had one car that never made it back. It was probably the same one; all other rentals from the past month have made it back except for that one.” He scrolled. “Was your sister with them?”
“No, but I have reason to believe they’re connected to her disappearance.”
He sighed through his nose and shook his head. “I can’t imagine what that feels like. I have a sister, too.” He kept scrolling. “And a daughter.” He clicked a couple times and turned the computer screen so they could see it. “This was the model.”
Max studied it. It was basic—just a black sedan, no bells or whistles.
Paul said, “We take photocopies of all driver’s licenses, if you’d like to have a look.”
“They’re probably fake,” Max said. “What about cameras that face the highway? I want to see where they went.”
“There’s only one.” He clicked around again, keeping the screen facing them this time, until a bunch of live feeds appeared. The footage wasn’t great—it was grainy and black and white, but it was better than nothing. “Hold on, I have to check that date again.”
It took about twenty minutes, three pairs of squinting eyes, and a whole lot of zooming in, but they finally caught the barest glimpse of the car’s tires—heading out into the middle of nowhere.
Literally.
“What’s out there?” Max asked.
Paul exhaled. “Honestly? A whole lot of nothing. There’s a bunch of desert out there, a motel, wildlife. Not a lot of people travel there, unless it’s for work or hiking.”
The perfect place to hide someone, then.
Max stood, took an envelope out of his back pocket, and offered it to Paul. “For your trouble and the almost-heart attack.”
Paul blinked up at him. “Oh no, I can’t accept that.”
“Please, man, just take it.” Max held the envelope there until Paul’s fingers closed around the edge. “No one is to know about this. We were never here.”
Paul nodded. “I won’t tell anyone.”
They left the office. “Thanks, Paul,” Max called.
Soon as Max was outside, he studied Paul’s aura to make sure he’d made the right call—by trusting him, paying him, and not attempting to erase his memories from today.
Paul’s aura was wide open and bright—no secrets. This was a man who wore everything on his sleeve.
“Well?” Malakai’s voice was nearly a bark. “It’s hot as Ignis’s fucking asshole out here!”
“It’s not gonna get any colder,” Max said, opening the driver’s door to the SUV. “We’re going into the desert.”
