Page 102 of Rot In Knotty Pieces

“Cool. Where are we running to? Do you have another hidden bunker?”

“If only, but, no, we have a better place to hide.”

I fold my arms over my chest and stare out the windshield. “Interesting.”

Rolly studies me with a half smile, but then his expression gets serious. “Here to drop another bomb on us?”

“Ah, you know me so well. I am the door through which all the secrets live. All the information of the ages. People should get down on their knees and worship me. Mwahahahaha.”

“Sarcasm suits you,” Pix says.

“I know. I wear it like a custom-made suit. And look fucking hot as I do.”

Rolly giggles, but the rest don’t really respond.

There’s a tense silence, and then I lean forward, looking out the window, watching for the turn-off.

“Take this one.”

Blaze is obedient and turns on the indicator, waiting until the last minute to slow down and take the corner. It’s obvious that he’s got tactical driving training.

“There’s a city in about two hours. Go there.”

I sit back, closing my eyes, enjoying the feel of the car’s rocking movement. Time passes both slowly and too quickly.

“We’re here.”

I direct them to a school, and we park across the road from it. It looks like any other. The school’s got a sign with some generic, easy to pronounce name, a fence all the way around, some government-issue buildings, a massive oval, and only a few sparse trees to shelter the kids as they are getting picked up. It’s the crosswalk that I watch, hoping that I’ll see what I need to see.

“You going to tell us why we’re here?” Roseland asks tightly. “I don’t like involving children in this.”

“What do you know of Nightingales?” I ask absently.

“They are birds that sing.”

“Mmm, they are. That is exactly the point. That’s why he chose the name. Ten points to King.”

The tension in the car thickens, turns sharp and cold. I feel an almost painful desire to laugh, but there’s little humour in it.

“We are a Nightingale. One of seven children who are specifically stolen to be tortured and live and die at his leisure. Trained assassins. Father isn’t a single entity. He is legion. He calls the hired muscle and mercenaries he hires and converts to disciples his flock. But we are his songbirds.”

I can feel them staring at me, but they don’t understand. Not yet, but I see the dawning comprehension on Roseland’s face.

“Raven stole them, didn’t she? That’s why he’s hunting you so ruthlessly?”

I shrug. “My guess is yes. None of us are really sure what Raven is doing, but I managed to glean a couple of images from her memories, and this place and the two places the children are missing are in there.”

“Two places?” Sage asks sharply.

“There’s a place in town. An old lady and a child, a girl,” Rolly says. “Pix stopped me from killing them. You know, the ones that upset my Dove.”

“She made me promise not to tell anyone,” Pix says. “But I know the locations of several of the kids. Not this one, though.”

Everyone is staring at the omega. He just shrugs.

“Worst-case scenario, she dies. I was a backup. Protection for them and the world.”

There’s a different feel in the air now. For me, it’s frustration and a little bit of resignation. I guess a huge part of me doesn’t actually think we are going to survive the next couple of weeks. As soon as he gets hold of me, I won’t live long.