Wild Sign (Alpha & Omega #6)(18)

“So,” Anna said, feeling apprehension she wouldn’t have felt before hearing a bedtime story this serious, “are we going to California?”

“Yes,” said Charles. “We are taking Tag with us.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because magic has trouble latching onto him for whatever reason.”

“Like Mercy,” Anna said in surprise.

Charles shook his head, but said, “Maybe. I don’t understand the mechanisms of Tag’s resistance. Mercy’s immunity seems to be from the same heritage that allows her to change into a coyote and is far less reliable—and more effective when it does work—than Tag’s.”

“So we three are going to venture into a situation that disappeared a village and brought a legendary werewolf—no,” she corrected herself, “a legendary legend to his knees and killed who knows how many people. You and I and Tag.”

“Information gathering,” Charles told her. “The idea is we go see what’s going on, and return to discuss what to do about it with Da. We are not to engage the enemy unless we cannot help doing so.”

Anna considered that. “Your father’s orders?”

“Yes,” confirmed Charles.

“Has he met Tag?” Anna queried.

Charles tightened his hold on her as he gave a huff of laughter.

More seriously she asked, “How many monsters can control people’s minds?”

Charles sighed. “Witches—but not all of them. There used to be a couple of families who specialized in that kind of magic, but they disappeared after the Inquisition. That doesn’t mean the rest of them can’t do it.”

“Sage was in the restaurant when Leah told her side of the story,” Anna said somberly. “She was very interested.”

They both contemplated that.

“Vampires can control minds, too,” Anna said, breaking the silence.

“All of the fae can work illusionary magic,” Charles said.

“And the music thing ties in pretty well with the fae, doesn’t it?” Anna said. “The Pied Piper of Hamelin.”

“That one just springs to mind, doesn’t it?” Charles said. “I can think of a few of my uncle’s stories, too—and creatures native to this land were far more plentiful than fae, witches, or vampires back in the day.”

“So we are clueless,” she said.

“Absolutely,” he answered.

“Just making sure.”

He laughed again. “Good night, Anna.”

A few minutes later Charles said, “Asian magic works differently—their mages are not divided up into witches and wizards and sorcerers. I haven’t had a lot of experience with it. But I do know they have creatures that could create this kind of trap.”

“The Chinese came out to California with the railroad,” Anna said. “And for mining, right? It’s been a while since my American history class, but I associate all that with the Civil War. Were they here early enough to be Leah’s monster?”

“All it would take would be one,” Charles said. “The monsters of the Old World came over with the first of the explorers.”

“Now that we have established it could be anything,” Anna said, smiling into his shoulder, “can we go to sleep?”

“I called Samuel this morning,” Charles said, his voice solemn. “I told him that I needed him to help us find a way to have a child.”

Anna couldn’t breathe, her heart pounded, and her mouth was dry. They had applied for adoption with a few agencies—but the waiting list was very long. She’d thought Charles was against other options.

She licked her lips and said, “What did he say?”

“Not to go out looking on our own. He is concerned that if the public—the human public—finds out what we are trying, there will be an outcry that will make everything more difficult.”

“We talked about that,” she said. It had been one of the reasons Charles had leaned toward adoption.

She felt Charles nod. “We did. He says to wait until he can make it back and he’ll help. He has some ideas.”

“Did he say when he would be back?” Anna asked. Charles’s brother, Samuel, was traveling with his mate, a powerful fae named Ariana. The last Anna had heard, they were in Africa, and Samuel, who was a doctor, was working with Doctors Without Borders, though there had always been something vague about what, exactly, he was doing.

“No,” Charles said. “He sounded . . . worried, I think. Unhappy. He wouldn’t tell me why. Da says Samuel hasn’t told him what’s going on.”

“Which doesn’t mean Bran doesn’t know,” Anna said.

“Yes,” agreed Charles. “And Da sounded worried, too.”

“If there is anything we can do, either Samuel or Bran will let us know,” Anna told him.

Her husband let out his breath in a huff of air. “This is true.”

When the darkness pressed too deep as they both lay awake, Anna said, “Why is the music so important? Do you have any idea?”

He gave a deep sigh and she couldn’t tell if he was relieved to change the subject or not. Children were something her husband had very complicated feelings about—and she wasn’t sure he understood them himself.