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A small look of surprise. Then he nodded.
"There was nothing to be done, though, right?" I moved closer to him. "You didn't kidnap him. Elena says he'd run away after he was bitten, was on the street for a year, maybe more, before you found him. You couldn't take him back to his family and say, 'Here's your son. By the way, he's a werewolf.'"
"No. I couldn't."
"Did he ever ask about them?"
"Never. That used to worry me. At first, I thought he wasn't asking because he didn't want to upset me. When he was young, I'd find ways to bring up the subject of mothers, fathers, siblings. He never nibbled. Later, he pretended he'd forgotten everything that happened before he was bitten. He tells Elena he can't remember."
"But he does?"
"I think so. Before Elena became pregnant, he asked me if there was a way to check on his medical history."
"Look for any hereditary conditions. Something he might pass on to a baby."
"Yes. I found his family. It was easy enough. There was some media coverage when he disappeared. I'd always assumed there was, but I'd never looked before." He went quiet for a moment, as if thinking about that. "Paige helped me get medical records. She never asked what they were for, but she probably knew. I didn't find anything significant, medically."
"And Clay. Did he ask about them? His family?"
Jeremy shook his head. "All he wanted was the medical information. I always had the feeling his childhood wasn't...easy. That running away, even as young as he was, really..." He struggled for a word.
"Didn't bother him."
"I don't think it was an unlivable situation. Bad enough, but not the sort of thing that would cause your typical six-year-old to walk away and never return." A tiny smile. "But I suspect Clay wasn't the most typical child even before he was bitten."
"He's happier being a werewolf and sees no reason for regrets. Maybe, if he hadn't been bitten, he would've turned out like these children. A runaway."
I thought about that as I felt the tinkling touch of the children's fingers, listened to their whispers. How old were they? It was impossible to tell. From the touches and pokes, I'd guess some were quite young, though the voices had sounded like preadolescents, which meant they should be able to understand my instructions, supporting the theory that they couldn't hear me any better than I could them.
The older ones could be passed off as runaways. The younger ones? Vanished children, like Clay had been.
I thought of Clay, the life he'd gone from, the life he'd had instead. I wondered whether any of these children had run away. Just up and left their homes, their families, maybe even only for a day or two, cooling off after a fight. And then...gone. Killed. Sacrificed.
What did they make of their situation? Were they frightened? Suffering? Were they aware enough to be frightened? To suffer? Were they together? Or separate, unable to contact the others, alone. No way to tell. Not until I set them free.
"Have you heard from Elena and Clay yet?" I asked finally.
"I called them when I woke up, checking in, but no one answered. They're probably outside with the kids. I left a message."
I nodded.
"Sir?" a voice called. "Ms. Vegas?"
I waved the guard over.
"Your cell phone has been ringing, sir," he said to Jeremy. "You left it in your jacket inside. And someone thought they heard Ms. Vegas's phone ringing in her room."
We gathered our things and headed for the house.
IT WAS Elena calling with their "research notes" on folk magic.
"So how does that help us?" I asked when Jeremy finished explaining.
"I don't know if it does. Not at this stage."
"What about those body parts in Botnick's closet? They're used in this kind of magic. Maybe if we knew his supplier...No, I guess if he had a direct link to this group, he wouldn't have been trying to find them."
"But it does shed some light on what we're looking for. Like Botnick, this group is likely eclectic in their choices, and their magics."
