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Yeah, she did. She sure fucking did. For him. Damn, was he lucky.
Groups of people began to file out of the cinema, carrying bags of popcorn and fountain drinks. The Theater District was lit up better than most of the others in Yveswich, the road lined with super bright LED street lights, so Roman spotted Paxton with ease. Eugene walked at his side, soda and popcorn in hand, and coming up behind them were—
Simon and Trey.
Roman ground his teeth. “Shit.”
Paxton’s eyes found the car, and fuck, the kid looked scared for his life. So did Eugene.
This was not part of the plan.
Roman started the car, but before he could even put it in drive, Simon and Trey herded Paxton and Eugene into a black van parked by the curb. They got in, Simon standing by the sliding door to make sure Paxton didn’t try to get back out. And when Pax poked his head out the still-open door, craning his neck to see Roman, Simon shoved him inside and slammed the door.
“Motherfucker,” Roman growled, blood boiling. Simon deserved to have his hand cut off for that.
His phone buzzed in his lap. Keeping an eye on the van, he checked the message.
Don
Follow the van.
Roman didn’t know what to do—what sort of trap he was about to face. But Simon and Trey had the kids, so he’d walk into anything, no matter how bad.
Another message came through.
Don
You’ll be wise to do as I say.
The van started driving.
Roman drew a deep breath and followed.
Shay had never considered Yveswich her home. She’d never had a reason to want to be here, aside from Anna, and even when she was alive, they’d plotted to get out of here as soon as they could.
A few weeks and one Shadowmaster later, and she had a reason to be here now, a reason to want to come back. She would have made it back sooner, had she not needed to wait for a taxicab to get all the way out to Motel 58. She had tried bribing the driver to break the speed limit in exchange for a generous tip—from the funds she’d stolen from Roman—but to no avail.
She stood out front of her apartment door, her body weighed down by all her bags, the extra pounds making the scar tissue from her injury burn with a vengeance. She shimmied her keys out of her back pocket, found the one for the front door, and wrestled it into the lock. The spells softened. The key clicked. She twisted the door handle, pushed open the door—
And flipped on the light to find her mother sitting cross-legged on the couch.
She stopped short. “Mom?”
On the couch beside her, throat slit from ear to ear, her corpse propped up like a doll’s, was Shay’s neighbor—a witch with a sugar glider for a Familiar.
Athene gave Shay a venomous smile. “Hello, dear daughter.”
101
Roman’s House
YVESWICH, STATE OF KER
Loren had just finished brushing her teeth and getting into her pajamas when Ivy intercepted her in the hallway.
“You doing okay?” Ivy asked.
“I’m fine,” Loren said, wrapping her arms around her middle. She felt cold again, but the tattoo on her wrist was still dark, the ink ordinary. She chalked it up to nerves and exhaustion and asked Ivy, “How come?”
