A chuckle. “Hardly.”
The car slowed to a crawl. Jack blinked and realized that they were already on the highway. The city glittered like a jewel box in the distance. Hidden Cove was already devoured by swaying trees and smoke.
“Then how does it work? You said something about interdimensional laws earlier. If we go with you, are we gonna be on, like, another planet?”
“It’s far more complicated than that,” said the yellow-eyed man. “But no. Not yet. You’d train down south.”
“What if we change our minds?”
“No one will stop you from leaving. But you won’t. You won’t be able to function anymore, knowing what you know. Nobody ever leaves.”
They sat in silence for a long moment. Jack chewed his lip, looked out the window, searching for any signs of the mob behind them. But he saw only normal traffic. No one swerved between lanes, windows down, ready to shoot out their tires.
“It’s not much of a choice, is it?” said the yellow-eyed man. For the first time, Jack thought he detected sympathy.
“OK.” Boris exhaled. “What if I want the hotel now, but later I… I change my mind?”
“I’ll know,” said the yellow-eyed man simply. “How about this? I’ll leave you in a motel tonight. If you change your mind, I’ll know.”
Boris glanced at Jack, then Carla. “What do we think?”
“Hotel,” said Carla, voice a cracked whisper. “I-I can’t think right now.”
“Seconded,” Jack managed. Privately, he suspected they needed a hospital for smoke inhalation, but he didn’t dare mention it. The staff would call the police, and then they’d haveto explainwhythey were suffering from smoke inhalation immediately after a famous mobster’s house went up in flames.
No way.
“Deal,” said Boris. Jack nodded, mute.
“Wonderful,” said the yellow-eyed man, jerking the steering wheel toward an exit ramp. Seconds later, they were in front of a motel, the highway far behind. Too far behind. Jack shuddered. Had they teleported? Was that even possible?
The yellow-eyed man nodded to them. “You’ll find everything you need inside.”
Something cold and metallic slotted into Jack’s hand. He found himself staring down at a set of keys.Room 309,said the tag.
Ironic.
They stumbled out of the car one at a time, reeking of smoke.
Room 309 was clean, with two twin beds and a tray of sandwiches waiting on the tiny table.
Jack’s knees buckled.
CHAPTER
FORTY-NINE
Morning came too soon.Dawn dragged at his eyelids, roused him from a dream in which Enzo, clothed in a suit of fire, ran through the thick forests of Hidden Hill, flailing and crying, “Get it off me, get it off me!”
Jack tried to run to him, but his feet were rooted to the ground. No, that wasn’t quite right, he realized. He had roots because he was a tree, covered in wooden bark, itching with freshly bloomed leaves, green and fragrant. Enzo left a trail of flames crawling across the forest floor behind him, blinding in their intensity. Jack had no way to run, no way to help Enzoorhimself.
He woke to find Boris sitting at the table with wet hair and a five o’clock shadow, wearing clean clothes from one of the suitcases they’d found crammed under the bed last night. Beside Jack, Carla lay curled in a ball on her side, snoring. Dirt was smeared across her face, streaked through her hair. Morning light filtered through the filmy curtains, gray and dreary. A coffee pot burbled and spat.
“You alright?” said Boris, raising a brow as Jack came to join him at the tiny table.
“More or less. What’s up?”
“Can’t sleep. Been thinking.”
