occultism, and a Bonnie and Clyde escape from the law with their daughter that ended tragically in their deaths.
Only, the three of us werenât dead, and my parents werenât guilty.
A repeat of an American Killers episode played on the muted television screen on the desk. It had been only a few hours since theyâd been spotted, and already the stations were rearranging their programming to capitalize on the news story.
I turned off the television in disgust and took a few drags off my cigarette before my guardian reappeared.
May I show myself? Priyaâs voice inquired in my head.
âYes.â I crushed the remainder of the cig into a chipped ashtray shaped like a monkey head.
Priyaâs form took shape again in front of me. Enolaâs guardian confirms that they are aware of the situation. The Luxe Order will try to hunt you down. She suggests you ward yourself. She will contact us when they are safe, and will give you a place and time to meet them. She also said it would be unwise to pursue any other communication with them at this time. Itâs too dangerous.
After years of little to no contact with my family, I was finally going to see them again? My heart fluttered, but I was still puzzled. âWhy did they come into the States without warning me?â
I do not know. Enolaâs guardian was closemouthed.
I exhaled in frustration. âWas there anything else?â
Your fatherâs guardian refused my request to communicate.
âTheyâre probably just being cautious. The Luxe Order has been able to intercept communication between guardians in the past.â
Yes, it would be logical for your parents to be heavily warded at this time.
A I tried to make sense of everything I caught myself chewing my fingernails; all of them were down to the quick, so not much left to bite. I wondered if the local branch of our magical order knew more than my parents were saying; it wouldnât hurt to check with them.
Do you require anything else?
âJust keep your eyes open in the Ãthyr and let me know if you see anything unusual.â
Priya nodded and began fading. Before the spirt vanished, it added, Be careful.
Right. And now I had to walk back out into the busy bar and pretend that I really was Arcadia Bell, bar owner. Not the daughter of two alleged serial killers being hunted down by the FBI. For the first time in years, I was genuinely afraid that I couldnât keep up the lie.
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Copyright © 2012 by Jenn Bennett
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First Pocket Star Books ebook edition December 2012
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