Page 103 of Rot In Knotty Pieces

It’s inevitable.

No, it’s not. We’ve got a chance. With this pack, with our skills.

Daylight comes slowly, and Pix gets out of the car with Roseland. They talk to the teachers for about fifteen minutes and then come back and get in the car.

“So?”

“A little girl, aged seven, went missing three days ago. When they called the guardians, there was no answer. They called the police yesterday to do a welfare check. The whole family is missing.”

Blaze starts driving and leads us aimlessly around the city until he finds a service station where we can stop for gas. I get out of the car, stretching, and follow King into the shop. I grab a couple of things and then go into the toilet.

“You didn’t tell them everything,” Kestrel accuses.

I stare at myself in the mirror. “And you think it would be a good idea to tell them that? Should we tell them what we went through and what he made us do? Should we tell them what’s waiting for us? That the next time he gets us will be the last time? Don’t be stupid, Kestrel, they don’t need to know all that. They need to be focused.”

She growls at me, hating lying to the pack, but she’s not lying. I am. This is my choice, just like Raven chose to keep all that information to herself.

I can feel the shock of the others. We don’t remember everything yet, but I’ve shown them the door. They have to open it.

No, not they. It has to be Kestrel. She has to be the one to shove open the doors, the one willing to face the truth no matter how much it hurts. Our mind isn’t ready for the memories or the information yet.

It could make us or break us completely.

I blow out my cheeks.

They know about Bonnie and the Sandersons, he knows about the code they use and intercepted the calls and messages. He found the Nightingales, tried to drug us, killed the old person, has been leaving dead birds. The only way he could have gotten to the Sandersons is through a Nightingale. They wouldn’t have suspected children.

The only conclusion is that this is some sort of punishment. He’s not even trying to be subtle anymore.

We are outmaneuvered. We lost before we even started trying.

I close my eyes, trying to think like him. Father likes pain, the ability to lord his intelligence and mastery over those he considers lesser, and he considers everyone lesser. He converts people because he finds them disposable. He wears the mask because he thinks he’s a god and touched with power and a greater purpose.

He would torment and cause fear…and he would…. My eyes snap open wide. Oh, no. I grab the handle of the door and rip it open, launching out into the car park. Pacing as I think rapidly, following from one feverish thought to the next.

I jog to the car and lean into the front window. “He will try to flush us out next. Through people we know or the places we’re hiding.”

“I don’t care about the houses,” Blaze says quietly. “And I am aware that my property has been destroyed.”

I look past him to Sage, who looks up as if he can feel my gaze. “It’s true. A house is just concrete and wood. People can’t be replaced.”

Says the serial killers.

Blaze purses his lips. “For me, it’s the memories. But he’s taken them all already. He can’t hurt me by taking anything else but you now.”

“The house at Marion Hollow is gone, too,” King says. “I just checked. It burned after we left.”

I feel the shock of my alters, but it’s far away and distant.

Pix does some searching and lets out a disgruntled sound. “The house we stayed in, in the forest, is gone, too. That’s the one you were talking about, wasn’t it, Blaze?” Pix shows us the photo of the gutted building. It’s just a black wreck now.

I close my eyes. “Right, nowhere to go. He’s saying he can touch us anywhere.”

Sage smiles. “We’re getting to him.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, alarmed.

“He’s freaking out, so he’s playing his cards too soon.”