Just as we’re about to walk out, my phone—not Thad’s phone—buzzes with an incoming message.
Unknown: Don’t go. It’s a trap. Slade wants Leah dead. -K
The number isn’t familiar, and my hand squeezes the phone so tightly that it turns to broken pieces with one snap.
“What?” Leah asks, leaning against me as she looks up.
“Looks like Kya still has your back,” I sigh. “Unless you made more friends in Slade’s camp.”
She shakes her head, seeming confused.
“Let’s get back to the others. I’m not going to let you out of my sight for a while.”
Chapter 18
LEAH
“So where are you going?” I ask her, still confused by her surprise visit, and stunned by her even bigger surprise announcement.
“Nowhere in particular. I just need to go away for a while,” Aunt Masie says, hugging me as she drags her suitcase out of my apartment.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I point out, noticing how exhausted she seems.
“One day, Leah, you may find out this world isn’t as small as we think it is,” she says sadly. “Right now, I have to go face something I’ve avoided for many, many years.”
“That’s… creepy. What’s going on?”
“I’ll be joining Victor on the road. As badly as I don’t want to, I can’t fight it anymore.”
“What the hell does that mean? What do they do on the road? Other than hunt all the damn time. Seriously, how many deer and rabbits can they possibly shoot?”
She snickers softly while nodding. “You’d be surprised.” Sighing hard, she looks up at the sky. “You’re all grown up, healthy, sane, happy… I’ve used you as a reason to stay out of it for as long as I can.”
“Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something?”
“Because I’m not telling you something,” she states flatly. “But it’s silly nonsense you don’t need to worry about. If it was something serious, you’d know. Besides, I could use the exercise I’ll get on the road.”
She pats her waist dramatically, acting like she’s not tone and fit. There’s not an ounce of fat on her and she knows it. If anything, she looks like she’s been working out for years instead of just keeping house.
“How long will you be gone?” I ask her.
She cups my chin, looking at me with genuine love and affection. “I don’t know. But if you need me, I can promise I’ll know and I’ll be coming for you. You can call me any time if it’s important.”
She hugs me, and I hold her to me, inhaling her scent of comfort and promise. I’d forgotten how easy it was to miss her.
“Don’t call unless you really need me,” she says in a rasp, strained whisper. “There won’t be much time for chitchat for a while.”
Confused, I tilt my head as she looks at me with sad eyes.
“Why do I feel like this is goodbye or something?”
She runs her hand down my cheek again as unshed tears waver on her eyelids, but she doesn’t let them fall. “Never goodbye, my girl. Never.”
She turns and walks toward the curb where the old Chevy pickup is waiting for her. I can’t see the face of the driver, but I can see the hands. There’s a familiar ring on the hand gripping the steering wheel.
Victor.
I’ve never understood their relationship. Friends? Enemies? Lovers? Siblings? And they’re both so damn secretive that it’s always been impossible to tell.