Wickedly Dangerous (Baba Yaga, #1)(67)



Liam made a face. “No thanks, not my type.” His eyes strayed to Baba’s wild hair for a moment, and she tried to smooth it down before giving up with an annoyed mental shake. As if she cared what his type was, and that she clearly wasn’t it. Bah. Humans. Way too complicated.

“I’m sure Maya will lie low for a couple of days, then reappear, miraculously healed except for a few tiny, tasteful bruises to get her sympathy,” Baba growled. “And in the meanwhile, people will still be giving me dirty looks, no matter what lengths the Ivanovs and Belinda went to in order to clear my name.”

“I think she’s definitely lying low,” Liam said, looking thoughtful. “Today was remarkably quiet; no irate calls from farmers whose machinery had been sabotaged overnight, or neighbors wanting to blame each other for something crazy. I even managed to get some work done in the office.” He reached down and picked up the folder he’d brought.

“Is that the information we got from Peter Callahan’s office?” Baba perked up. Finally, something concrete to focus on. Besides the sheriff’s flat abs and strong arms, that is. And his own particular masculine scent, which seemed to winnow its way straight to her core. “Were you able to come up with anything helpful?”

Even Chudo-Yudo sat up and paid attention as Liam opened the folder and tilted his notes so he could see them better in the arcing white light from the trailer behind them.

“I think so,” Liam said, scooting his chair closer to Baba’s, the dragon-dog circling around to sit at their feet. His tail inadvertently hung into the fire for a moment before he twitched it away, but the heat didn’t seem to bother him.

“I double-checked the three missing kids against the list of families in the green files, and they’re all in there,” Liam said.

His hands clenched on the folder until the papers inside crunched like dry bones in an abandoned graveyard.

“Ah,” Baba said, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. The best cure for both of their frustration and anger would be to concentrate on catching Maya and getting the children back. If that was even still possible. She wasn’t about to mention that it might be too late.

“Were you able to figure out how many of the people in those files have children who might be at risk?”

He nodded, pushing his hair back impatiently. “There are eight families on the list with children; a total of fifteen kids, since some of the families have more than one child.”

“Gah,” Baba said, letting out a discouraged noise that startled a nearby bat into flying crooked. It banged into the side of the Airstream and clung to the windowsill, stunned, before taking off again, wobbly-winged, into the encroaching darkness. “That’s a lot.”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Liam said, holding up one sheet of paper. “Some of the kids are too old to fall into her pattern, I think. So hopefully they’re not vulnerable. But that still leaves us with seven children, which is definitely too many to try to watch. I thought maybe we could talk them over and figure out a way to narrow the list down a little.”

“Do you think Peter Callahan knows anything?” Baba asked. “I’d be happy to try to beat the information out of him. I could wear my motorcycle helmet and jacket, and we could blame it on Maya’s theoretical assailant.” She gave a happy smile at the thought, and Liam flinched.

“I’m never sure if you’re joking, or if you’re really as bloodthirsty as you make yourself out to be,” he said. “But no, I don’t think beating up Callahan is going to help us any. I’m not sure if he is a willing participant or if Maya is just using him; the jury is still out on that one. But he must have at least an inkling that all those people in trouble came from his files. How could he not?”

“Willful ignorance is a typical Human failing,” Baba said, shrugging. “But you’re probably right—trying to coerce him openly would no doubt just set Maya off again. If she’s being quiet for the moment, I’d just as soon keep her that way. Maybe we’ll come up with a plan in the meanwhile.”

Liam ignored the insult, most likely because as a lawman, he’d seen the effects of willful ignorance all too often. “Well, then, we’ll just have to figure it out ourselves.” He took another sip from his beer. “I know all the families who have lost children, and there is one thing I’ve noticed: all these kids are particularly well loved, just like Gregori said. Take Mary Elizabeth, for example. She’s her mother’s and grandparents’ treasure. Her father was a drunken idiot, but the rest of her family loves her enough to make up for any three fathers.”

He scowled into the dimming light of the fire pit as if the fading orange fire could give him answers to impossible questions. “Would someone really be so cruel as to purposely choose the children who would be missed the most?”

“Maya would,” Baba said grimly. “She could have kidnapped any number of kids from homes where they weren’t wanted. She’s not only picking her victims from the list of people Peter Callahan wants to pressure into signing over drilling rights; she’s intentionally taking the ones whose loss will cause the most pain. Maybe as some kind of twisted revenge for the damage Humans are doing to the water that is so precious to her.” She sighed. “I take back everything bad I’ve ever said about human beings. Otherworld creatures can be much, much worse.”

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