Silver Shadows (Bloodlines 5)

As Marcus spoke on the phone now, I wandered to the window of our room, which overlooked Main Street and the convenience store, as well as a gas station. By the motel’s standards, it was the best view in the place. To my surprise, a familiar car suddenly pulled up into the motel’s parking lot, its sunny color a bright contrast to this otherwise dreary town. Without saying a word to Marcus, I headed out of our room and down the stairs.

Eddie and Trey were getting out of my Mustang when I stepped outside. Even this early in the day, the heat was rising considerably, creating shimmering mirages on the asphalt. “Survive exams?” I asked.

“For the second time in my life, yes,” said Eddie.

“They’re actually still going on today,” said Trey. “But Ms. T pulled some strings with the other teachers so that we could finish up yesterday. She sent this—for when we get Sydney back.”

I accepted a small tote bag that was filled with all sorts of witchy accoutrements—herbs, amulets, and a book that meant nothing to me but that would probably elate Sydney. When we get Sydney back. Trey had spoken with such confidence, and I hoped it was warranted. These last two nights of silence had been rough on me.

“And I brought this,” said Eddie, with a wry smile. He handed over Hopper, whom I’d left at the apartment, still immortalized in gold. I touched the finely carved scales and then slipped the little dragon into the tote bag with the other magical items. “Any updates on Sydney?”

I beckoned them forward. “Come on up to HQ and out of the heat.”

Marcus was off the phone when we returned to the room, and he greeted the newcomers with friendly nods. “Just confirmed we’ve got three guys—well, one’s a girl—coming to help us tomorrow. Two of them used to be in re-education. They had no idea it was here, of course, but as you can imagine, they’re kind of holding a grudge. They’ve got some intel on what the layout’s like inside, though not nearly as much as I’d like. Meanwhile, we’ve finally got some hard data on the exterior. If you can believe it, they actually mask themselves as a desert research facility. They’re outside the park proper too, probably about twelve miles from where we are now. This is actually the closest town to them. I wouldn’t be surprised if Alchemists stopped here for gas on their way to work.”

It was all good data, but it suddenly seemed lacking when Eddie asked, “Have you heard from Sydney?”

Marcus’s face, which had momentarily seemed upbeat, fell again. “No. We’ve been out of contact for two nights.”

“We don’t need to make contact to raid the place, though, right?” asked Trey. “We can just show up and bust her out.”

“Sure,” Marcus agreed, “but it would be nice to have a contact on the inside as this goes down.”

I slumped down onto one of the room’s narrow beds, which creaked under my weight. “And it would just be nice to know she’s okay.”

“Too bad there’s no one else we can contact,” said Eddie. “You don’t have any leads on other prisoners there?”

Marcus shook his head as he explained what they knew, and the old familiar despair started to settle over me. Plunging into sobriety and using spirit daily was a deadly combination for my mood swings, and I’d been fighting them constantly. Sydney’s latest disappearance had sort of shattered whatever fine control I’d held on to until this point. It’d be a wonder if my sanity lasted until we got her back.

Sanity’s overrated, my darling, I heard Aunt Tatiana say.

I squeezed my eyes shut. Go away, I silently told her. I need to listen to them.

What’s the use? she asked.

I need to focus. I need to get in touch with Sydney to make sure she’s okay and get info about what’s going on inside.

Your human girl has already given you info, the phantom Aunt Tatiana said. You just haven’t heeded it.

I suddenly opened my eyes. “Duncan,” I said out loud. My three friends looked in me in astonishment.

“Are you okay?” asked Eddie, who’d occasionally seen some of my worse sides.

“Duncan,” I repeated. “One of the times I talked to Sydney, she mentioned a friend she’d made there named Duncan, someone who’d been there a while. If we can find out his name, get a picture . . . it’d be enough for me to form a dream bond. Assuming the gas is out for him too.” I wasn’t clear on the logistics of what Sydney had disabled. “Regardless, it’s not a common name. Could you pull up anything?”

Marcus frowned. “Maybe . . . depending on how long ‘a while’ is, one of the ex-prisoners joining us tomorrow might even know him.”

“Then call them,” I said sternly. “Now.”

“If Sydney’s not in touch because that gas is back on, you won’t be able to get to him either,” warned Marcus.

I held up my hands in exasperation. “What other choice do we have?”

I could tell he thought it was a long shot, but a few phone calls soon yielded results from one of his guys—the one who was a girl. “She said when she was being held last year, there was a guy named Duncan Mortimer there,” Marcus told us a little while later. He was already on his laptop, typing as he spoke. “No guarantee it’s the same guy, but the odds seem good. Mortimer’s a well-known name. I wonder . . .”

He didn’t elaborate on what he was wondering and soon found a file on Duncan, including a picture and a few brief stats. Most spirit users wouldn’t have been able to form a dream bond to someone they’d never met, and I again felt that occasional flash of pride at being able to do something worthwhile. When I was satisfied I had all the data I needed on him, we switched gears and spent the rest of the day poring over Marcus’s intel about the facility itself. I didn’t have the tactical mind the others had, but I did have the considerable power of spirit on my side and was able to advise on where I thought that would be useful.