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“No, like, bad serious.”
“Babies and engagements can be bad serious.” She laughed and then stopped abruptly and said, “Jesus fucking ow Tyler, it was already broken what the hell are you doing?”
Tyler, being Tyler Nowakowski, was a former New York detective who had also been working for the FBI in establishing their paranormal branch. He was now a member of a small team that Secret worked with dealing with all manner of absurd paranormal issues.
“Is this a bad time?” It sounded like a bad time.
“This fucking vampire in Bolivia broke my arm, and since I don’t have any magical healing powers anymore, we’re testing this contraption Tyler has been working on, but he’s not doing it very well.” She growled audibly on her end of the phone.
“Tell your sister you’re a whiny baby and I’m doing my job perfectly,” I heard him say.
“He says to tell you he’s an obnoxious asshole and is at least six inches too tall.”
Tyler snorted.
Good to know the day job was treating her well. I had about a thousand more questions about whatever they were working on that could help heal her broken bones, but I would just be avoiding the inevitable.
“Secret, mom’s alive.” Boom, dropped bomb one.
“What?”
“Mom. Mercy. Mercy is alive. She’s here. She burned down the bar and I think she wants to kill me.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and finally she went, “Huh.”
“There’s more.”
“Oh. That was just the opener?”
“Yeah.”
A long sigh and I could tell from the change in her breath she was trying to steel herself. I explained about the return of Morgan, and how I knew it was her thanks to what I’d see during my visit to see La Sorciere. I told her Ben had gone with Mercy. I told her just about everything she’d missed this week.
“There’s more, isn’t there?” she asked. “I can tell you’re avoiding something.”
It was my turn for the long pause as I chewed my bottom lip.
“Someone else is back, too.”
A sharp little inhale on the other end. “Is it Keaty?” The hope in her voice that she couldn’t quite hide damn near broke my heart. Keaty had been Secret’s business partner, but more than that he had probably been the closest thing she’d had in her life to a father.
“No. I’m sorry.” I waited a beat, and finally just spit it out. “Secret, Lucas is alive.”
“Holy fucking shitballs.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Secret’s flight from Los Angeles landed about an hour after Wilder, Lucas, Santiago, and I arrived back in New Orleans. We had just enough time to stop at my house, change, and check on Magnolia, before we had to leave to get to the airport. Santiago parted ways with us at the city border, and we decided to leave Lucas at my house with Magnolia.
I knew Secret would want to see him, but I also thought that first encounter shouldn’t come in the middle of a busy baggage claim area.
My heart was in my throat the entire time as we parked my car and headed into the terminal. Her flight was on time, meaning she ought to be out any minute. On the phone she hadn’t seemed angry with me for delaying the news about Mercy, but I hadn’t given her much of a chance to let it all sink in. Now that she’d had a couple hours on a plane to think of nothing else, I was terrified she was going to disembark and be furious.
Instead, the first moment I saw her coming down the escalators, she smiled brightly with genuine excitement and barreled down the stairs, flinging herself at me in a warm embrace.
Secret was the very definition of petite. She was thin, short, and the only thing that gave her any real heft was the wild mound of curly blonde hair atop her head. She’d pulled it back into her signature ponytail, but it still hung halfway down her back.
She wore the typical Secret McQueen uniform: dark jeans, yellow blouse—this one with an unexpectedly cheery floral print—and her ubiquitous leather jacket. An overnight bag was slung over one shoulder, and I couldn’t help but notice the glaring absence of a cast.
