The screen went dark before I could wave, and then Linus was there.
“I thought I heard voices.” He examined the empty screens. “Were you checking in with Lethe?”
“Just chatting with Lisbeth.” Eager to make my escape before I compounded my white lie, I nudged him and Clem out the exit and into the parking garage.
Clem climbed in the back of the van, and I sat beside Linus, knee bouncing in my eagerness to get going.
With Atlanta nearly in the rearview mirror, Linus aimed us toward the legendary Clancy’s Bakery.
Much to my shame, I was too sleepy to steal a single donut from the orders I had promised Lethe.
Not that it stopped me from holding them on my lap and inhaling like a diver finally come to the surface.
Once the orders I placed for the sentinels filled the cargo hold and most of the backseat, Linus aimed us toward home, sweet home. Just the knowledge I would see Woolly and everyone else again in a few hours soothed me enough I fell asleep with my cheek pressed to the cool glass and Linus’s equally cool hand on my thigh.
The universe must have felt it owed us an apology for the last twenty-four hours. The trip back to Savannah passed quickly and without incident, the parts I was conscious for anyway. We hit the barricade, handed out donuts to everyone on duty, and left more for those who would come on next.
With that bit of gratitude doled out, we climbed into the SUV waiting to carry us to Woolworth House.
Our new clothes, toiletries, and even the van, all safe behind a ward, would be retrieved later.
With the three of us settled, the driver-side door opened, and Boaz swung himself in behind the wheel.
“Have a nice trip?” He met my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Any trouble in Atlanta?”
“There’s always trouble in Atlanta.”
Boaz grunted agreement. “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh, yes. My, uh, friend.” I patted Clem on the shoulder. “Say hello to Jake Clemmons.”
Boaz whipped his head toward us. “Taz?”
Eyes rounding, I jerked in my seat. “How did you…?”
“Jake Clemmons was the birthname of one of the most famous black cowboys, well, ever. The Hollywood version anyway. I caught one of his movies on the classics channel Amelie was addicted to as a kid and got hooked on westerns. We watched them in the barracks during our downtime.”
Ah. That explained Clem’s earlier smugness. Other sentinels would be in on the joke, and Taz would be able to reconnect with her close friends through Clem.
“Where’s Becky?” I hadn’t noticed her in line for free donuts. “I didn’t see her.”
“Lacroix drafted her for a special mission.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “She left last night.”
Linus set aside his distaste for Boaz long enough to ask, “Anything we should worry about?”
The muscles in the back of Boaz’s neck bunched and flexed, but he didn’t voice whatever thoughts had twisted his expression into mulish lines. “No, but we’ll update you if that changes.”
Eager to take the focus off Linus, I blurted, “What about the rest of your guys?”
“They’re tailing us.” He pulled onto the road. “Our last trip taught us a valuable lesson about putting all our eggs in one basket. Granted, splitting up isn’t half as effective when the two most valuable targets refuse to be separated, but at least this way we’ll have transpo if this ride gets blown sky-high.”
“You can’t blame us when you didn’t ask in the first place.”
A derisive snort blasted out of him. “Which one of you would have volunteered to ride with me?”
Habit almost tricked me into claiming the honor, but I was still mad enough at Boaz to not want to be alone with him anytime soon. He would want to talk, and I didn’t want to hear him out. I wanted to put our history behind me and do what I did best. Pretend everything was fine.
“Savannah was standing long before us, and she’ll be here long after we’re gone,” Boaz said a few minutes later, as we passed the blacked-out hulls of stores emptied by looters. His wistful tone made me wonder if he meant to put voice to thought when he asked, “Do you ever think about leaving?”
“No.”
Woolly was here. My friends were here. And even if Linus’s future was in Atlanta…mine wasn’t.
His city might not be alive in the same sense as Woolly, but Atlanta pitched a hissy each time I visited, it seemed. Nothing good ever came from my trips there. If I didn’t know better, I would swear she was trying to get rid of me. But that was crazy talk. Right?
We arrived at Woolworth House before my paranoia could fully blossom, and she zinged a welcome into my head that felt like my skull was a bell and her exuberance the clapper.
Twilight had fallen during our drive, a twinkling curtain that made it possible to see the lightning bugs flash against a starry backdrop.
Clusters of my diurnal friends, almost done for the day, worked alongside my nocturnal ones, who were just getting their night started.
Tables had been set up, and most were stacked with boxes of food and supplies. Together, they loaded trucks and crosschecked lists. The three groups functioned as a single unit, and I wasn’t sure how much was the result of Lethe and Hood’s leadership versus the banding together of a community to support its own during a time of crisis, but I was moved to tears all the same.
From here, I could see Amelie seated on the porch, as close to the action as she could get without leaving the house. A clipboard filled her lap, and she called out questions to nearby volunteers before marking down their answers on a form.
Wasting no time, Boaz headed straight for her to say his goodbyes before reporting in.
With any luck, Woolly would be in a good enough mood to allow them a hug. As long as Amelie remained on the bottom step, and he didn’t get closer than the length of her arms.
“Clem,” I said, resting my hand on his shoulder, “before you report to the sentinels, I have a mission for you.”
After I explained the Corbin situation to him, his face lit up with glee. “I’m on it.”
“Don’t kill more vampires than you have to,” I reminded him. “Corbin believes they’re all there willingly, but we can’t verify that without more information.”
“I won’t kill more than necessary,” he promised, which was not the same thing at all.
About to point that out, I groaned when he yanked open the door and took off at a run for the trees.
Linus, though clearly amused, was smart enough not to comment on my shaky leadership skills.
Summoning Cletus required a concentrated effort with my attention so divided, but I finally managed.
The wraith drifted, expectant. The fabric of his tattered cloak rustled on an unseen breeze.
“Tell Corbin we’re coming for him if you can.” I touched the wraith’s bony hand. “If you can’t reach him, keep an eye out for Clem. Help him break Corbin out, then get back to Woolworth House, all of you, whatever it takes.”
A low moan confirmed he was on board, and he dissipated to resume his watch over my progeny.
Loaded down with sugary bribes, I stepped onto the lawn and into the chaos.
“Grier.”
A ball of excited ghost boy smacked into my knees, and I staggered back. “Oomph.”
“You’re back.” Oscar climbed up to settle on my hip. “Early.”
Unable to resist those black eyes shining up at me with such joy, I juggled my boxes and gave him a quick hug as discreetly as possible. “Yep.” Releasing him, I let him hover on his own. “Remember, you have to keep a low profile around this crowd.”
Boaz in particular would sniff out Oscar if we weren’t more careful. With everything else going on, Oscar ought to be safer than ever, but I didn’t want to take any chances when it came to the Elite. The dybbuk incident might have blown over, but he was unique thanks to my blood. Much like Cletus, I had to keep their differences a secret in order to protect them.
Sentient wraiths might never catch on, but restoring ghosts to their former selves?
The psychic and medium trade raked in millions of dollars annually, and that was only the Society’s take. Humans dabbled too. Most of them were con artists, but a few with diluted supernatural blood in their heritage were legit. And that didn’t take into account the other factions with divination powers.
But there was a vast difference between hiring someone to talk to your great aunt so-and-so’s ghost and having her chat you up in the kitchen, having her remember. Oscar wasn’t a mindless loop. He was a thinking, feeling child. Time had matured him in some ways, and it had altered him in others, but I would have whipped out my checkbook if someone promised they could animate Maud, or Mom. For either of them to haunt Woolworth House… That would be a true blessing.
“I don’t like hiding,” he pouted. “I want to play.”
“How about we play”—I took the opportunity to pat myself on the back—“hide-and-seek?”
“You’re it.” He shoved off me and zoomed away. “Count to one hundred really loud, or I won’t hear you.”
“Got it.” I watched him go. “I’ll give you a head start.”
Happy for the extra minutes, he didn’t question the fact I wasn’t keeping time.
“Donuts,” Lethe squealed and steamrolled her packmates to reach me.
“I haven’t changed my name.” I held the box over her head. “It’s still Grier.”
“Donuts,” she growled, claws poking through her fingertips. “Now.”
The weepy-gooeys must have passed. These must be the scratchy-maimies.
“Don’t bite.” I popped her hand. “Lethe, no. Bad girl.”
Masculine laughter rolled over her shoulder, and Hood made a gimme motion behind her back.
Nostrils flaring, she narrowed her eyes to slits. “Do not let him have them.”
“Okay, okay.” As the tension drained from her shoulders, I feinted left then passed the boxes off to Hood on my right. “Run.”