64. Anita
Anita
Because Nothing Says Family Like Murder
Irun down the cold hallway, my heels clicking sharply.
I screwed this up. Epically.
I yank out my phone and call Mom.
“Well?”
“It didn’t work,” I admit. “And she figured out it was me.”
“How?” her voice sharpens.
“I called the ore-brain Varik. Apparently, the cops never gave you his name.” I try to pin this on her, even though we both know it won’t matter. I’ll still take the fall.
“Stupid girl,” she snaps. “I taught you better.”
“I understand.” I hang my head.
“I’ll call your father. Go to the warehouse. Kill all the witnesses.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She hangs up.
I head to where Daddy always parks. I’m not even there five minutes before I see him cutting across the lot. He doesn’t say a word. We slip into the car and drive off campus. On the freeway, his hand suddenly clamps around my upper arm, hard enough to bruise.
“I’ve waited more than ten years for this moment,” he growls. “You will not ruin it with your stupid games. I don’t care if you get her soul. She has to die.”
“I know, Daddy,” I whisper through tears.
He releases me like I disgust him.
Tears spill down my cheeks. How did I mess this up so badly?
We pull up to the warehouse. It looks like nothing. Just a decaying box in the middle of nowhere. Daddy opens the trunk and pulls out one of his inventions.
“What’s that one do?” I ask, trying to make him happy again.
“It freezes everyone in a room so you can go in and defuse the situation safely,” he says.
“That’s amazing,” I tell him, even though it’s dead boring.
He doesn’t respond. I can’t even make him like me.
We step inside. Our footsteps echo eerily in the empty space. Room to room. Nothing. Finally, we reach the main office. And stop.
The walls are scorched, bowed outward. The floor cracked. Papers scattered. I spot a food wrapper, a shattered restraint cuff on the desk. But no bodies.
“What happened?” I whisper. A magical bomb?
“I don’t know,” Daddy says, scanning the room. “It must have been whoever rescued her.”
“It was Mavrik and Zair,” I say. “Do either of them have this kind of power?” I shiver at the thought. Not from fear.
“They must. Or they’ve got some kind of artifact.”
“Did they kill everyone already?”
“No. Doesn’t look like it. But everyone’s gone.” He sounds disappointed. We hear another car pull up and leave quickly out the back entrance.
“So… what’s our next step?” I ask as we drive to the school.
“Our next step?” he repeats, glancing down at me. “My next step is calling in Miriam. We’ll pick Thea up for Thanksgiving break. Her friends won’t notice she’s missing until she’s already dead.”
“But what about the banshee?” I ask. “Have you figured out who she is yet?”
“I told you I don’t care,” he growls low. I flinch and he finally softens. “We’ll try at the carnival.”