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“The next morning, the desk clerk gave Clay the first push with the coupon for Bridge’s Biscuits.” He pursed his lips. “They’ve nudged us back in line any time we strayed too far from the path.”
“Do you think the grume owns Witchy Ways?”
“What makes you think so?” Asa angled his head toward me. “Glinda?”
“Hear me out.” I lined up my ducks in a row. “The spa is a legit business that could fund the grume. Their MO of preying on tourists works in both senses. New customers keep them flush. Fresh food prevents the grume from eating the locals and drawing too much attention. Plus, it explains the boat. It’s good for work and play.” I had to admit. “If you’re going to be given a burial at sea, you can’t go out much fancier than that.” I lifted a finger. “And that much socializing gives them access to a steady flow of potential wrappers.”
“You make a compelling—”
A grating whine filled my ears, followed by the clatter of shattering glass from a distant window.
“Incoming,” I murmured, leaning forward. “Let’s see who we’ve got.”
Black mist seeped through the jagged cracks, flooding the far corner of the restaurant.
“Momma?”
Asa tensed beside me, ready to rise, but we couldn’t identify the swirling particles yet.
“Baby.” A hulking mass of raw bones and meat solidified before him. “Are you okay?”
The long-limbed creature was as familiar as it had been disturbing the first time we saw it au naturel.
For better or worse, we had our answer.
Sorie’s momma was—drumroll, please—Jilo.
The lesson here?
Never trust a spiralized cat.
“I’m stuck.” He sobbed louder than ever. “I can’t get out.”
“Who did this?” A roar shook the building. “Tell Momma, and I will kill them.”
“Funny,” I said from my spot on the floor. “I made the same vow earlier.”
The tendinous beast that was Jilo pivoted toward us, vibrating with maternal rage.
“That creature upstairs is not a child,” she spat, “and you are no one’s mother.”
“Not to cast stones at glass houses, but that’s not your kid. That’s a corner you tore off yourself.”
A full-throated scream sent dust motes dancing when it sank in she had no recourse for the truth.
“Sorie is the first child spawned of boo hags in centuries,” she growled. “His life is worth any price.”
“What about the lives of your victims?” I set my jaw. “Don’t you think their parents felt the same?”
“Humans multiply like fleas on a dog. They can spare a few for his sake.”
“And Colby?” A dangerous calm settled over Asa’s features. “How would you justify her death?”
“You don’t understand.” Her hands curled into fists. “That much pure energy would transform Sorie. The wait would be over. He would reach maturity in hours. With him by my side, proof he is the future of our species, I can go home.” Her eyes shone fever bright. “No one would choose Marah over me then. There would be a reckoning.” She toned the venom down a notch. “I would teach the others how I did it. How I made Sorie. We could rebuild our numbers, take back our city. We could own the night again.” Her fangs gleamed sharply. “Those damn ghost tour guides with their bullshit blabbering would be the first to go.”
An ear-shattering boom rattled the jagged glass in the windows, and doors smacked against the walls.
Agents dressed in black suits poured into the restaurant with guns, claws, axes, and fangs out.
