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“But I have to meet them already dead,” Rayn replied, his black eyes wide. “Living people are different.”
That was about as clear an explanation as granite made a fucking window, but I wasn’t in a good headspace to argue with him about it or try to get a better one.
“Fuck!”
“I could maybe find him if he’s sleeping,” Rayn offered.
I gaped at him. “What?”
“That’s how I found Ward. When he was sleeping.”
I had no fucking clue what the fiddly fuckstick that meant, but I did not have any more goddamn time for it.
I tried calling Taavi again.
Still nothing.
“I’m going to his work,” I told Raj, who nodded.
“Do you—”
“No. Just… Fucking call me if you find out anything more, okay?”
Raj nodded. “Hart?”
“Fuckingwhat?”
“I hope…” He trailed off when I growled at him. He glanced over at Rayn, who looked terrified. “I’ll call if I hear anything. Ditto, okay?”
“Fine,” I snapped. “I’m leaving, Rayn.”
“Okay. I will close up at five.”
I didn’t fucking care, but I was pretty sure Ward would. “Fine. Tell Ward if he asks.”
“That you are looking for the dog-person?”
“Yes.” It took all my fucking willpower not to strangle him, even though, logically, I knew none of this was his fault.
I was already on my way out the door.
* * *
Getting out of the car,I checked my phone, my heart and stomach both somewhere around the back of my throat.
Taavi still hadn’t answered any of my texts or calls. It had been an hour and seventeen minutes. Yes, I was absolutely counting.
I’d been to the Arcanid-Arc-Human Youth Center and to Hands and Paws. Taavi hadn’t been in, and it wasn’t his day to work at either place. I’d called Broad Street All-Night Vet. No Xolo dogs, but they’d taken my number in case one came in.
I tried to tell myself that maybe Taavi was still just pissed at me, and that’s why he hadn’t answered his phone. God knew I’d still be pissed at me.
But he’d answered my other texts about Aztec rituals, although I hadn’t been explicit in anything I’d sent him in the last hour and eighteen. JustAre you doing okay?andPlease text me back.
I really hoped he was just still pissed at me.
I took the stairs up to Taavi’s sad little apartment two at a time. When I got to his door, I stopped, completely unable to make myself knock. Because if he was here, it meant he hated me. If he wasn’t, then he might be dead. Either way, I was going to end up heartbroken.
I pressed my forehead against the door, one hand on the wall beside it, the other on the door itself, as though I could somehow feel through it whether its occupant were alive or dead, whether he hated me or not.
