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“We didn’t know, Addie, till after. We thought it was because he missed his evaluation. They told us he wasn’t stable and wanted us to bring him in for assessment.”

“What do you mean he wasn’t stable? What assessment?”

“Every year, all hunters are assessed by the council to make sure they don’t become vigilante extremists. We knew he wasn’t, but your father had been avoiding the council for some time, so they asked us to bring him. We convinced him to come with us and gave him our word that he would be fine. But once we got there, they took him off, and we found out later he was dead.”

“So the supernatural council killed my father?”

Cyrus shakes his head. “No, they gave him back to the hunters’ organization. He passed the assessments, and we found out a couple of months later that Jamison had him killed. We never got an explanation. Even the supernatural council inquired. He had a good relationship with both organizations. Your father was a good man. But, yes, Addie, if we hadn’t handed him in, he may not have been killed then, but the hunters’ organization would have found him eventually.”

“Did you say Jamison?” I ask, knowing that is Sam’s father’s name.

“Yes, Jamison.”

“Sam’s father?” I ask, and Eli nods.

I press my lips in a line going back to folding.

“What about the cell downstairs? What’s that for then?” I ask, and they both become nervous.

“We can talk about that when you return,” Eli says, but I already know.

“It’s for me, isn’t it?”

“Things have changed. We won’t lock you in it. It was just a precaution.”

“For what? If I ran? You were going to lock me in the basement?” I ask, horrified.

“No, of course not. It doesn’t matter now. Just pack before I change my mind, Addie. No more questions,” Eli says before walking out.

“He is just mad at you for leaving. I understand why you are, but it doesn’t make it easier to take in,” Cyrus says, grabbing some more of my clothes from the drawer.

When we are done, I quickly get changed, chucking some clothes on. Cyrus grabs my suitcase and take it to the car.

“I wanna fly, not drive,” I tell him, and he pauses, looking over his shoulder.

I don’t want to be trapped in the car for hours with them.

“You want to fly?”

I nod.

“You know it doesn’t change anything. We will still be dropping you home?”

I knew he would say that, but two hours on a plane are better than a nine-hour drive.

“I know that,” I answer.

He nods his head, shutting the boot. “I will tell Eli to ring our pilot.”

I wait by the car. I am going home. I can soon put all this behind me, put them behind me, or so I hope. Eli and Cyrus come out around ten minutes later, fully dressed. I open the back door, but Eli shuts it.

“In the front,” he says, pushing me toward the front door. “You want me to let you go, just sit in the front with me.”

I roll my eyes but do as he asks, reminding myself I wouldn’t have to answer them once I get home. The drive to the airport is completely silent. They are unusually quiet, though I can tell they are angry and upset that I am leaving. Pulling up at the airstrip, I hop out, looking at the flying tin can that is to take me to my freedom.

Boarding the plane, Cyrus comes over and makes sure my seatbelt is clipped in before sitting next to me. Eli sits across from us, not even looking in our direction. I close my eyes as the plane gathers speed to take off. My hands are white-knuckling the armrests when I feel Cyrus’s hand grab mine. I grip them; I am terrified of planes, but it is better than the alternative of driving. I don’t trust myself, worried they will convince me to stay if I am trapped in the car with them that long.

Chapter Forty-One