The boy nodded. “Why not?” Then he looked at the swirl of dirt the wind had made on the sidewalk. “You’ll stay for a bit? Let me know what she thinks?”
The wind sighed. It would stay.
The boy hurried away, hands in his pockets, a small smile lifting the corner of his lips. As he passed the waving plastic cats, the old woman cackled. “Who were you talking to? Huh? Take my advice, child. Don’t whisper what you don’t want overheard.”
The wind bounced on the plastic cats’ swinging arms and then zipped under the apartment building’s door. It rushed past the figment on the stairs, rode the curve of the banister, and slipped inside the citrus and pearl dust scented woman’s apartment.
They were awake.
The wind tingled at the veil of illusion they’d pasted over the room to keep out unwanted eyes and ears. No one ever considered that the wind could slip through illusion.
“Have you lost your mind? A Ward. You brought a Ward into?—”
“Do you think I don’t know? Don’t realize my mistake?”
“No! I don’t think you realize. First, you go and retrieve the lyre for him. A favor. Fine. I didn’t agree with it, but I trusted you knew what you were doing.”
“I did! I kept my word. I owed him.”
“You played right into his hands! You brought the Ward into our safe house, and he rummaged around in our minds and learned who knows what. I yanked a monster out from under the bed who could swipe through my conjurings like she had a pair of scissors and was cutting my guitar strings. She’s dangerous.” The musician jabbed a finger at the woman, and she flinched. “And then the front door slams open, and in you stroll with Jacob Ward. Are you kidding me, Lia? Do you want to die?”
The wind swirled around the room, fluttering the pages of the magazines. The woman gripped the magazine the girl had written on. The message was crumpled in her hand.
“Of course not.”
“You could’ve fooled me. Jacob Ward knows we’re alive. The creature that crawled out from under my bed knows we’re alive.”
The woman started to speak, but the musician cut her off.
“And if you think that isn’t related somehow, then you’re kidding yourself. The Ward knew the little monster. He took one look at her and attacked me. He attacked you. The biggest mystery right now is this—why aren’t we dead?”
“I don’t know. Maybe . . . maybe that’s not what it was about. Maybe . . .”
“Stop. I know that look. He’s a Ward, Lia. They play mind games. It’s fun for them to make people believe things that aren’t real. He had you trusting him. I don’t know how.” He held out a hand. “I don’t want to know. You’re smarter than this. You know Wards get their kicks from twisting people’s minds. Why would you voluntarily . . .?” The musician narrowed his eyes and peered at his sister. “Was it voluntary? Or has he used compulsion? Some Ward trick?—"
“No! No.” She shook her head, and at the musician’s skeptical look, she added, “You’re afraid of him.”
The musician’s eyes widened. “And you’re not?”
The woman’s lips thinned, and she didn’t answer.
The musician laughed. The wind rolled around in the wild waves of his baritone. His laughter was the sea crashing against the sharp cliffs of a volcanic island.
“Of course I’m afraid of him. He just turned my mind inside out and locked me in a nightmare more horrifying, more sickening, than even the most demented, evil being could imagine. It feels like he drove a rusted nail through my skull. It hurts. I couldn’t fight him. He cracked my brain open in half a second, and I had no defense. He had no pity. No compassion. I could feel him in my mind. He could’ve killed me with a thought, and you know what? He didn’t care. That’s a sociopath, Lia. That’s the Ward. So yeah, I’m afraid of him. You should be too.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or did he show you something different? When he knocked you out cold, did he show you hearts and flowers? Was it a sweet romance?”
The woman flushed.
“Really, Lia?”
She threw the magazine at the musician, and it smacked him in the head. The musician blinked and then scoffed.
“I thought you were smarter than this.”
“I am. He didn’t show me romance. It was . . .”
“What?”
She crossed her arms over her chest.
