Hi Céce, sorry, it was a long drive from Girona-Costa Brava Airport. Almost two hours! But the villa is so pretty. It's right on the cliffside. I'll see if I can get a photo for you tomorrow when it's light out.
Atticus is already opening several windows, cross-referencing any and all intel we have with the locations of the airport, and a two-hour driving radius.
"We need to reply." Eli tries to take the mouse from Atticus, and is shouldered off as Atty reopens the mirrored cell phone window in time for another message to pop up.
Aurora
I think Ellie's chicken toy might be lost.
"No, it isn't," Atticus grumbles at the screen as if she can hear him. "I made sure Céline grabbed it from her apartment."
That message was something he said to try to get her phone to go off again so she'd reply.
"She isn't talking about the chicken toy," I realize. "She must mean the tracker. She lost it somehow."
Eli's hands are back in his hair again. "Fuck. This isn't good. Can you trace her phone?"
Atticus already tried that and Eli knows as much. "They must have a similar jamming system to ours. I can't get through. When she uses her laptop, I might be able to follow the IP data. And it's still cloned so we should be seeing anything she does on it. We need to get her to turn it on."
Atticus starts a reply as Céline.
Céce
Glad you made it there safely. I'd love to see the house. Ellie does seem sad about her chicken. Maybe you can order her a new one from Amazon?
"That's good," I agree, and he hits send. "Hopefully, she'll pick up on the hint to use her laptop."
Atticus is ready to track her IP through her Amazon account, but no data comes through. And no more messages, either.
"Should we say something else?" Eli presses.
"No," Atticus and I say at the same time, but I add, "we can't risk too many questions. It'll look weird coming from her dog sitter."
"Worst case, we still have her English lesson with Alfie, aka Eli."
Eli unfolds to his full height, eyes dark like I've only ever seen them when he's about to lose it. "That's not for days yet!"
While I don't like the idea of not knowing exactly where she is for days, as long as she stays in contact with us, we have to assume she's okay.
"What do we do?" Eli's voice rises another octave and I rifle through the bag by the counter until I find the whiskey bottle. I thought we might be back to Elijah needing this to settle his nerves.
I twist off the cap. "We wait," I say, and hold out the bottle for him.
He shakes his head.
"E," I press. "We need you grounded, not flying off the handle. Take it."
His teeth clench. "I don't need it. I want to stay sharp."
"Ro can do this," I tell him, watching the tension wind tighter in his shoulders and knot in his brows. "I know she can."
"It's not her abilities I'm questioning," he snaps back. "It'shismotives. She hasn't seen it, Sev—who he really is. He hasn't shown her yet, and maybe he never will, but if he does?—"
"He won't," Atticus growls, like he can keep her safe from sheer force of will alone. "She's his daughter. He's not going to hurt his own flesh and blood."
Eli heads for the balcony, muttering to himself with his fists clenched.
"We don't know that," I whisper to Atty when he's gone. "His wife is still missing. Probably dead. What if it was him?"
