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Everyone was working against me here.
Genie visibly weighed her options and then said, “Give me ten minutes to pack.” She dashed off again before I had a chance to come up with any other arguments to the contrary.
Having Genie with us proved to be a godsend in one truly unexpected way. Because of how long she’d spent with only La Sorcière as company, she liked to talk to anyone willing to listen. She’d missed being able to chat conversationally. So during our flight home, she told Holden endless stories and got him talking about his past in England. She kept him from sitting around brooding, and kept me from feeling painfully guilty about what had happened between us.
I suspected it would be quite some time before I was able to talk to Holden or be near him without feeling an agonizing sense of loss.
I might never fully recover from my decision to let him go, and maybe I deserved that. I’d let myself love two men and had refused to think of the consequences for a long, long time. Now I was being forced to deal with the harsh reality of my choice, and it seemed only fair it should hurt me.
We were about a half hour from our destination when I fished my cell out of my purse and turned it back on. Since service had been dicey out on Callum’s estate, I’d shut it off to preserve battery life.
It started buzzing immediately, saving me from the too-dark cloud of worry that had started to press down on me. First one text alert, then another and another. Before I knew it, the texts were coming in faster than my phone could buzz.
How many people had texted me in a single day?
The first text was from Sig, sent the previous evening. I have invited Arturo to visit with us. If you have any hope of redeeming yourself before the council, I urge you to come back now.
I was about to reply, but thought I ought to check the other texts first.
One was from Nolan a few hours ago. Are zombies legit?
Well…that was a strange and random inquiry.
The next from Keaty. Come back. Now.
My pulse had started to pick up, since Keaty very, very rarely commanded me to do anything, and the tone of his text suggested he needed me. That wasn’t good.
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Tyler had written, Stay out of the city. Don’t return. Find a safe place and await further instruction.
Well…that didn’t bode well.
I flipped through a half-dozen more messages. Tyler had sent three. Avoid New York City. Another said, Please acknowledge.
I texted him first since he seemed hell-bent on keeping me out of town. Did he know about Arturo coming in? Was there some news of a plan brewing from the West Coast?
Been out of range. Landing in Jersey in 20.
I considered answering the others, but I decided to hold off until we landed so I could figure out which mess to sort out first. Reopening Keaty’s message, I stared at it awhile.
Come back. Now.
Something wasn’t right.
The overhead speaker crackled, and our pilot’s voice filled the cabin. “Folks, uh, I’m getting news from the tower that our approach is being denied. They’re rerouting all nonessential landings. Seems, uh, they’re diverting all flights intended to land in the city proper.”
What?
“Why?” I asked, before realizing it wasn’t a two-way system.
“We’re going to land in a private airfield. Sorry about the delay, folks, we’ll be about an extra fifteen minutes.”
I might have been imagining it, but there was an edge of panic to his voice.
“Something isn’t right,” Desmond said, giving voice to the concerns I already had. “Why would they be diverting major airline flights to a small field in Jersey?”
Holden, who had been quiet since the announcement, spoke up. “It means it’s not safe to land in the city.”
