“I really have to meet with avodvod?”
Six nodded.
“Why? Why are thevodvodinvolved? Was it…?”
Abigail stopped talking with a jolt. Her secrets upon secrets were dangerous and she needed to watch her fucking mouth. She could meet with thevodvod. She had no choice.
Number Six watched her closely, then nodded and said, “I’ll be wit’ you, Missus.”
He helped her put her jacket back on, then moved away a few steps. He bent, unzipped his boots, and kicked them off, then hoisted himself up onto the altar like a gymnast. He turned around and winked at her, then shifted into a mink, getting smaller, his features drawing in and going pointy, his body shrinking and changing shape, until a small mink ran out of the clothing. He scurried up her arm and laid down, settling himself across her shoulders.
“Yesss,” Abigail murmured, feeling deep comfort at his presence, knowing this was her magic that let Number Six turn into the mink pelt, but not knowing how it was done—at that moment, she was a literal split personality with only a dim sense of her other half. The mink stilled, then deflated, until it looked like a dead pelt. Abigail stroked his tiny head, murmuring to him. He was a good husband.
“Yourcask,” Ethedra said, pointing to it, making a ‘gimme’ motion with her hands.
Abigail unclipped it from the coat rack, probing its belly, which was her habit. It felt full of all of her secrets and valuable things.Good, good.She clutched it and stared at the well andEthedra, sensing the plane between worlds, and not sure how to surpass it.
“Drop it in,” Ethedra said, pointing below her feet.
Abagail nodded.Of course.She dropped hercaskinto the well, and it fell into Ethedra’s open hands.
“Now go,” Ethedra said. “Number Six will protect you.”
Abigail turned around, feeling small and confused and determined not to show it. She could get by. She always did. The stairs beckoned and she went to them, plodding up. At the top, she found Number Twelve, her twelfth husband. He held a hand with only two fingers and a thumb on it out to her. She ignored it and pushed past him.
He ran to keep up with her, saying, “Six said I gotta drive you somewhere.”
“Yes, to my store.”
“Roger wilco.” He led her over rocks and around trees into some bushes where a black SUV waited. He bundled her into the back seat and drove her down the bluff toward town.
Abigail looked out the window and whispered ‘thank you’ to Number Six. She stroked him gently, then kissed him on his tiny head.
Hewasa good husband—hands down herbesthusband.
14—Timber
Timber sped back to the station, his cell phone ringing on his lap. He’d been chasing leads on Dahlia Paige all day, but they’d turned out to be nothing. He was hungry and a little irritated. It was dinnertime, and he was having a bad day. He never had bad days! His department truck had broken down twice, he’d had coffee spilled on him, and he’d been attacked by an irate housecat and a vicious chihuahua working as a team.
Before he could pick up his phone, someone called him on the radio.
“SRT-443.”
“Go.”
“The first address was an empty cornfield, and the second, was also a bust. The people who lived there never heard of Dahlia Paige. Name’s Carter, and they’ve lived there for 12 years.”
“10-4, thanks for the checks.”
Timber pitched the mic onto the dashboard and grabbed his phone, too late. It had been Sebastian, and he’d already hung up. Timber threw his phone on the dashboard with the mic and scrubbed the stubble on his chin, already forgetting about Seb. He was getting closer to Dahlia Paige; he could feel it in his bones; he just needed to get back to the bunker to connect all the dots.
He parked and ran inside a back door, into the tunnels, jogging toward the bunker, scenting that he had company. He turned the corner and spotted Seb sitting in Canyon’s chair, black boots splayed out, throwing a football up in the air and catching it. Seb was big—Hawaiian or Samoan or both maybe, with dark, shaggy hair and a lean, wolfish face, wearing a KSRTuniform. On the desk in front of him, he had a grocery bag… andsomehow, his facial tattoos were missing.Interesting.
“Seb,” Timber said, sitting at his desk and getting to work.
“Ber,” Seb said back.
Timber snorted. “Whatcha got over there?”
