Summoning the Night Page 68


It was easy to play house and enjoy the moment with both of them, not getting too close. But a person could do that only so long—could only test drive the car for so many miles before the dealer made you park it in the lot or buy it. There wasn’t a rent-to-own clause when a kid was in the picture . . . even one who was fourteen years old in two days.

I rubbed his back and told him to hush, and he stopped clinging to me like we were in the middle of a whirlpool and he was saving me from spiraling away. He pulled back and sloppily wiped his wet face and snotty nose all over the front of his T-shirt.

“Hey, Jupe?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever used your knack on me?”

His response was fast and emphatic. “No way.” Squinting up his tear-stung eyes, he added, “And you haven’t used magick on me, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Okay then.”

Even without Lon there to evaluate his emotions, I believed him.

“Your dad is going to wring both of our necks when he finds out.”

Panic flicked over his face. “You promised not to tell.”

“And I won’t, but you can’t hide it forever. He’s going to know. Besides, you should probably go see a doctor and get antibiotics. Or get a healer to pull out the infection. Did the Earthbound doctor who healed your arm when it was in a cast—”

“Dr. Mick? No way! We can’t go to him. He’s friends with my dad!”

“I know a healer who could probably take care of it, but if I took you to Bob, I’d have to tell Lon.”

A low voice rumbled behind us, turning Jupe’s muscles to rock. “We’re not going to Bob.”

Shit.

Lon stood in Jupe’s doorway, slowly pushing the door all the way open with his fingertips.

“How much did you hear?” I asked while Jupe ducked behind my back, using me as a shield.

“All of it.”

Ugh. That meant he heard me suggesting to Jupe that we might break up one day. I hoped he didn’t take that the wrong way. He’d been listening to our emotions too, right?

Jupe peeped around my shoulder. “Are you mad?”

Lon glanced from Jupe to me, and when our eyes met, his were tender. A little puffy, even. You’d think that he, of all people, would be resistant to Jupe’s infectious sobbing by now. Maybe not.

“I’ll be mad if I cooked dinner for no reason,” Lon said at length, then joined us by the bed. “Let me look at it. After we eat, I’ll call Dr. Mick and see if he’ll let us drop by tonight.”

Dr. Mick was on duty at the ER. While Jupe got his infected tattoo squared away, Lon and I sat in the waiting room. I nearly dozed off in my chair until Lon’s phone startled me fully awake. I watched his face while he answered the call. I knew it wasn’t good news, but when he closed his eyes and his head dropped, worry crept into my chest.

He touched the screen to hang up, not bothering with good-bye, as usual.

“Lon?”

“It was Dare. A fifth kid, an hour ago. Mindy Green-burg.”

I blinked, trying to remember the homes I’d visited earlier in the day. The Greenburgs—it was the last one on my route. I’d spoken with the father. “I warded her house,” I protested. Had I screwed something up? Was this my fault?

Lon stared blankly across the waiting room. “She never made it inside the house. She was taken in the driveway. Her mother said that one second they were both getting out of the car; the next, she heard something in the bushes and her daughter was gone.”

Outside the house. The ward didn’t work unless you were inside it. All that work, and it didn’t matter. I wanted to scream in frustration, but all that came out was a sob.

“She goes to the public school,” he added in a fatigued voice. “She’s one of Jupe’s classmates.”

Lon hesitated to send Jupe to school the next morning. He could’ve saved himself some trouble if he’d just kept the boy home, because it was only a couple hours later that he got a call from the principal’s office: they were temporarily closing the school.

By the time we made our way over there, cars already filled the front parking lot and crowded the drop-off area, causing a traffic jam on the main road outside the school. Frustrated, Lon maneuvered his SUV through a gap and double-parked.

Inside was even worse. A total clusterfuck of parents waited outside the principal’s office—mostly those complaining about the school’s decision. They were shutting down for the rest of the week, until Halloween was over. The principal said it was a decision made by the school board, which didn’t want to be held liable for any children being abducted from school. Even though no kids had gone missing during the day, they said they weren’t taking any chances. They couldn’t afford to hire additional security, and they were nervous.

Parents were scared and angry at being forced to take time off work and make other arrangements for their kids, teachers were upset, and the school staff was trying to maintain order and get everyone out. Total chaos.

Lon swore under his breath as we fought the crowd to Jupe’s homeroom.

Ms. Forsythe’s classroom was noisy. No one sat in their seats; they were grouped around the window watching the parking lot, huddled together in the corner, buzzing with gossip. Ms. Forsythe was standing in front of a chalkboard covered with lists of stars and astronomy vocabulary. A 3-D model of the solar system hung above her desk.

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