Roark’s gone.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Phineas
I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing about a mile back. My body is on autopilot, focused solely on following the car. The town is small enough all roads lead to Main Street and the T-intersection beyond, which will force me to pick a final direction to turn.
Somewhere near Main Street, my legs give out. My undignified sprawl to the sidewalk earns me a strange look from the girl opening the coffee shop to my right. She doesn’t stop to ask me what’s going on, though, even when I can’t find the strength to stand and keep moving. Instead, gravity devotes itself to weighing me down completely, until I lie spread-eagle on the concrete. Cold seeps up through my sweat-drenched clothes, creating steam clouds that roll off my skin.
As the death rattle in my chest eases, I hear my cell phone going off with Herman’s ringtone. Digging it from my pocket is like lifting a brick of lead. I don’t bother to hold it to my ear. I turn it to speaker and drop it on my chest instead.
“They took him,” I say, staring at the grey sky overhead.
“What?” Herman asks. “Who is they? And him? What are you talking about, Finny?”
“Roark left. I found him. Was too far away. Men in a car took him. Couldn’t keep up.”
Noise from the other end of the line.
“Finny,” Sue says, voice steady, “where are you?”
“Main Street. Coffee shop.”
Again, noise. Murmured questions of which shop. I’d say, but I can’t turn my head to look. Herman’s back. “We’re coming to get you. Are you okay?”
“Tired. Ran.”
“You chased after the car?” It’s one of those questions that’s more a statement of resignation than actual curiosity.
“Tried to. Hurry.”
“We’ll be there. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
I choke out a horrible chuckle. As if I could move...
A few beeps mean they hung up on me. Good. Based on my body’s protests, I’m going to need to save all my strength for when they get here.
Roark’s gone. In my panic, I didn’t even pay attention to the car’s license plate. Or what the men looked like. Or anything useful. Years’ worth of crime TV shows did nothing to prepare me for that moment.
I have to find him but I don’t know where to start. I’m sure if I asked Mab, she’d send fae to help me. It doesn’t matter how terrifying she is, Roark is her son, her favorite son, and at least we’d be united on the fact that we need to find him. But I don’t know how to get ahold of her. Roark always scries, but he never taught me how.
The only other way I can think of to get her attention is that damn oath. If I said it, would I have a direct line to her? Would I be able to use her power to find him?
I start to say the words, but the image of Roark’s face when he was ca
rrying me out of the sídhe stops me cold. He hadn’t been angry when I asked him about my taking the oath. He looked like I was asking him to kill me. I can’t do that to him now. Not until I know exactly what taking it entails.
So I wait. And while I wait, I keep myself open in case the ley line decides to come out to play. I pushed it down too far, and if I’d had it, I could have saved him.
I’m crying silently when Sue and Herman find me. I hear the awkward chug of Herman’s car before the opening and closing of the doors. Sue kneels beside me on the sidewalk. I can barely see her through the tears that keep leaking from my eyes.
“Come on,” she says, helping me up.
She pours me into the backseat before she rejoins Herman up front. He keeps looking back at me in the rearview mirror. On the drive to campus, they coax the story out. By the time I’m finished telling them, even before they start asking questions and planning our next steps, I know what I need to do.
“I have to get my power back,” I announce.
I don’t miss the look they share as Herman puts the car in park near our apartment building.