“I assume Sage is more than four inches wide, so no.” I stood and stretched. “Sorry, that was rude. Wherever Sage went, it wasn’t through that.”
I began poking through Sage’s laundry and checking all the pockets of his dirty clothes. I found a couple of used tissues, more LEGO, a piece of gum, and seventy-three cents in change. Next, I climbed up and searched beneath the mattress of the loft bed.
Blake cleared his throat. “You never went through my room like this, did you?”
“I would never invade your privacy without a very good reason,” I said without looking. “And I definitely never found the pornography stash beneath your mattress.”
I continued searching. I found nothing out of the ordinary for a twelve-year-old boy until I checked the vent in the floor. Taped to the underside was a small plastic sandwich bag that contained two dark capsules, roughly the size of the extra-strength Tylenols I’d been taking since last night’s attack.
I placed the bag into my purse and replaced the vent cover. I also took one of Sage’s dirty socks. The scent should be strong enough for Jenny to track. Hell, it was almost strong enough for me to track. I plucked a bloody tissue from the trash can, too. “Time to go.”
“What do we tell his parents?” asked Blake.
“To call me if they hear anything new, or if they remember any details they didn’t share.” I took one more look around Sage’s room. “And that I’ll find Sage. Like you said, this is what I’m good at.”
“O ye ancient dreamer, whose thousand eyes dream of a thousand galaxies, hear the prayers of your faithful vessel and savior.”
“. . .”
“From your aeons of death and slumber, you stir with life once more. Beyond the emptiness of infinity and the shadows of universes that never were, hear me, great R’gngyk.”
“. . .?”
“Fucking A! That’s what I’m talking about!”
CHAPTER 12
Temple
“Stupid piece of shit.” Annette glared at her phone as if her anger could force the cracked screen to repair itself.
Jenny and I were sitting together on the bench on the front porch while Annette paced and fumed. We both knew when Annette got to this point, the best thing was to let her move and shed excess energy.
“Maybe your thumb was blocking the lens,” Jenny suggested.
“My thumb was not blocking the damn lens.” Annette spun and shoved her phone at us. The damaged screen reduced the right side of a photo to colored vertical lines. The rest was black. She slashed her finger across the screen several more times, showing one useless shot after another, until a partial photo of Morgan and Ava from last week appeared beside the colored lines.
The instant she’d tried to show us pictures of the spell she’d seen in Sage Parker’s room, her screen had frosted over and cracked.
“Some spells don’t appreciate being photographed or recorded,” I said.
“How the hell did a twelve-year-old kid create a spell like that?” Annette demanded.
I shrugged. “When I was that age, I was calling nature spirits to mow the lawn for me, and I had a pet rock who followed me to school like Mary’s little lamb.”
“Sage isn’t you,” said Annette. “Aside from his little plastic portal, there was zero evidence of any interest in magic or the supernatural. The most mystical thing in the whole house was a LEGO dragon being ridden by what looked like vampire ninjas.”
“Vampire ninjas are the worst,” said Jenny.
Annette shoved the broken phone into her pocket and sat on the front step.
“I want to fight some vampire ninjas,” muttered Ronnie.
Jenny had put her new apprentice to work pulling weeds around the rosebushes. She’d told Ronnie it was a meditative task that would help his focus. It also happened to be one of her least-favorite chores.
Annette dug through her purse and produced a sock. She twisted to hand it to Jenny. “This has Sage’s scent.”
“I’m not your pet bloodhound.” But Jenny took a quick sniff.
