Eleventh Grave in Moonlight (Charley Davidson #11)(75)

I felt the heat at my back. Reyes was fuming, but his anger had finally shifted off of Thea and onto the root of our problem.

As though really seeing me for the first time, she refocused and drew in a sharp breath of air. “Oh, my God, he’s keeping you busy while he searches for your daughter.”

I stumbled like she’d punched me. Reyes caught me, jerked me up, and spun me around.

He was going to explain. I could see it on his face. But the situation hardly needed an explanation.

“Go,” I said, the word a mere hiss under my breath.

Unable to dematerialize in front of everyone, he took off, so fast people barely saw him as he sprinted across the mall, darting in and out of the curious onlookers.

He was going to check on our daughter. I couldn’t go, because that was precisely what Eidolon was hoping for. He wanted me to freak out. He wanted me, the one lugging around the bright-assed light, to lead him to Beep.

I prayed he couldn’t follow Reyes in the same way. Surely, he couldn’t.

I put my hand on Thea’s knee to draw her back to me. “Thea, what else do you know? Is there anything—?”

“He was mad. When you got upset and”—she cinched her brows together, trying to understand her own memories—“when you dematerialized? You can do that?”

I offered a weak smile, but Amber was all over that, her lids a perfect circle.

“He was angry,” Thea continued. “He wanted you to rematerialize near her. Near your daughter. He was tracking you. But he said you were too smart. You went somewhere—anywhere—else.”

I had no control over my destination when I went to Scotland. Or did I? Was I truly trying to avoid materializing near Beep? And if I’d had absolutely no control, how did I end up at a house on the other side of the world that had a mystical closet exactly like the one in the abandoned convent here?

“But I just kept getting angrier and angrier. He told me the most horrible things. I texted…” She looked up at Amber. “I’m so sorry, Amber. I never—”

“I know.” Amber dropped to her knees, too. “I know, Thea. It’s okay.”

She shook her head. “No, I stabbed her. I felt it go in.”

“I’m not hurt, see?” I unzipped my jacket and lifted my sweater. My blood-soaked sweater, but underneath the skin was, well, also covered in blood but unmarred nevertheless. “Just a scrape,” I said to explain the blood.

“But, how? I felt it go in.”

I leaned toward her, bringing Amber with me. “Okay, hon, I’m trying to help you out here. You didn’t stab me.” I winked, the gesture about a subtle as an elephant in a pink tutu. “You with me?” I looked at Amber. “Both of you?”

Amber nodded and beamed at Thea. “It’s okay, Thea. My aunt Charley will make sure you get out of this.”

Ubie cleared his throat from behind us. “Oh, and my dad. Mostly my dad.”

A shy sense of pride widened his mouth as he helped us to our feet while the cops took Thea away.

I was still confused. Eidolon couldn’t possibly have possessed Thea. As a god, he was too powerful. She would only have lived a few hours. A couple of days at the most. Then how did he get to her?

“I didn’t spray-paint her mom’s car,” Amber said to Ubie.

“Smidgeon, you think I don’t know that?”

Just then, Cookie ran up out of breath and took Amber into her arms.

“Where you been?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“I got lost,” she said between pants. “I hate malls.”

I coughed to camouflage an inappropriate laugh. Uncle Bob did the same. Then he wrapped his arms around both his girls. Cookie leaned into him and Amber buried her face in his lapel.

“Are you sure you’re okay, smidgeon?” he asked her, smoothing her hair back.

Amber nodded. “I can’t believe that happened to my friend.”

“Can I put a picture on my InstaBlog?” Brandy asked, finally braving the crowd. When she raised her phone to snap a shot of the cops escorting Thea away, I gently coaxed her arm down.

“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious. “Everyone does it.”

“I don’t,” Amber said, clearly upset.

Brandy had the decency to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Am. This is beyond serious, and I’m just … I’m being stupid.”

“Brandy,” I said, getting her attention. “Just out of curiosity, do you know who spray-painted her mom’s car?”

Brandy suddenly became fascinated with her shoes. “No.”

“Brandy, I’m sensing a lot of guilt.”

“It’s just, I saw a can of paint in Josie’s car. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

Amber put a hand on Brandy’s arm. “If it really was Josie, I don’t blame you.”

“And who’s Josie?” Cookie and I asked at the same time.

“Only the toughest girl in school.”

Interesting.

“She has, like, this whole gang,” Amber added.

“Who are these girls?” Cookie asked. “I want full names and contact information.”

“They’re just girls, Mom. The local bullies, but they usually leave us alone.”