Bone Driven (Foundling #2)

“I might have helped the ruse along by implanting pictures I scooped off the Internet.” His expression tightened. “I get why you did what you did, the deal with Kapoor, but Wu wasn’t part of the bargain. He has no right to tighten the noose around your neck.”

“If I balk now, before I’ve been sworn in, they won’t trust me to tow the company line when the time comes. My word is all I’ve got, and I’ve given it to them.” I stared at the phone blaring in my lap. “I can handle Wu.”

The alternative, that our partnership would be a sham, was too depressing to entertain.

“I hope you’re right.”

Ready to solve at least one mystery, we circled back to the lab. The odds of me running into Veronica again were slim, but I still persuaded Santiago to deliver the samples with the excuse that if he was immune then it made the most sense for him to handle the drop instead of me suiting up again.

High from his shenanigans, he didn’t fight me. For once.

On the drive home, he received a call that starched his spine. He carried on a low conversation with the added precaution of using that fluid language that poured in one ear and out the other. Nosy to a fault, I strained to hear, but I couldn’t tell if the caller was male or female, and I had no clue about the topic.

Alone with my thoughts for company, I kept circling back to this morning. A niggling doubt plucked at the back of my mind, but it took me a minute to isolate the cause. The victims. Summers had described the scene, but we hadn’t examined the bodies.

At the time, it hadn’t struck me as odd. Considering I still dreamed of small teeth and silver wire, I blamed my subconscious. I had been so stoked not to have fresh images added to my nightmares that the lack hadn’t registered.

As much as I wanted to share my epiphany with Rixton, I didn’t want to admit I had spent my night running around Madison with Santiago. Emailing Summers and requesting copies of the coroner’s reports made more sense, so I did that to avoid a conversation about exactly why I had gone back to the crime scene without him.

Santiago ended his conversation before he parked at the curb in front of the Trudeaus’. While I was gathering my belongings, he kept slanting his eyes toward me and working his jaw. Since he wasn’t the type to hold back, ever, I held still to provide him with the widest target area for whatever blow he was about to land.

“Spit it out.” I braced myself. “I can handle it.”

“That was Portia.” A grimace twisted his face. “They’re back.”

They, as in both of them. They, as in a successful cohabitation. They, as in…

Muscles tensed, I braced for impact. “But?”

“Maggie doesn’t want to see you.” He studied the night beyond the windshield. “Portia said the bunkhouse is off limits to you until further notice.”

The news hit me with the force of a Mack truck and knocked the breath out of me. I had expected her hatred. I had prepared for her cutting ties with me. I had earned that punishment and so much more. But acknowledging there was a knife sticking out of your chest didn’t numb the pain when it was twisted.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The lab emailed me their report bright and early, not that I thanked them for the notification on my cell waking me. I read their findings through one squinted eye then flipped onto my back. The air mattress rocked under me as I hauled my backpack over by the strap and groped around in its middle. I wiggled my laptop free, placed it on my stomach, and started searching for information on valerian.

According to the Internet, whose medical advice was iffy at best, the root had anxiolytic effects. Its top uses appeared to be treating joint pain, menstrual cramps, anxiety, and sleep disorders. There were also footnotes about it working as an aphrodisiac, in that it lowers inhibitions to open a person up to their sexual cravings. Humans used the stuff as a sedative, but it stimulated cats, giving them a high similar to catnip.

That explained why exposure to the plant had blissed-out Thom, why I had been ready to climb Cole like a tree, and why Cole had been willing to let me. Miller’s response was harder to peg, but if the plant lowered all inhibitions, that might explain his aggression.

Following that logic chain led me to two distinct and uncomfortable conclusions. Remove self-restraint from the equation, and Miller saw us, his coterie, his fellow charun, as food. Erase that same ironclad self-control from Cole, and he saw me as edible in a far more pleasant, if complicated, way.

Clearly reactions varied across species. Mine had me wondering if my inner charun was more along the lines of a dragon than a winged kitty given how valerian affected me. I could always ask Miller what lurked beneath my skin, he’d offered to tell me once, but I was certain nothing good would come from knowing.

Unable to fall back asleep, I dialed Flavie, a classmate from high school who’d started a weekend lawn care business that had exploded into her adult nine-to-five empire. Chipper as always, she answered on the first ring. “Hey, Luce. I heard about your dad. I hope he’s feeling better.”

“He’s making progress. I’m hopeful.” The stock answers annoyed me for no good reason, considering I was the one giving them, but I chalked it up to lack of caffeine. “I was hoping you could help me out with a weed problem.”

“Sure thing.” Lawnmowers buzzed in the background. “You know I dig landscaping.”

I paid her the obligatory chuckle before getting down to the reason for my call. “There’s a patch of valerian growing in my yard under that big oak in front.” She cut our lawn when we let things get out of hand, so she knew the property well. “Turns out I’m crazy allergic to it. Do you think you could pull it out and comb the yard to make sure there are no more clusters growing?”

“No problem. We’ll get you squared away.”

“Thanks.”

After ending the call, I joined the breakfast in progress in the kitchen. Dad was sitting at the table, and I flung my arms around his shoulders before delivering a smacking kiss to his cheek. The chatter fell off a cliff after my uncharacteristic show of physical affection, but everyone had recovered by the time I plopped down in the chair beside him.

There was no way to tell them that, thanks to the bond with my coterie, I was healing that disconnect between touch and sensation. Not enough to make me normal, maybe, but enough that I could show people who mattered that I cared in a way that had felt unnatural until other charun came into my life.

Dad sipped from his mug, casual as you please. “How’s your young man?”

I almost blurted Cole? before I remembered he had misinterpreted Wu dropping me off as the end of a date thanks to the dress. “We’re just friends.” Minus the friendship. “You don’t have to show him your shovel collection. Promise.”

Uncle Harold grunted once, and Dad returned the guttural disagreement.

I almost felt sorry for Wu.

Almost.

My phone rang as I accepted the empty mug Aunt Nancy passed me from her place setting, and I elected to ignore the caller in favor of soaking up a peaceful morning with family. I muted the ringer, poured myself coffee from the pot on the table, and doctored it up just the way I liked it. The first sip scalded my tongue, but I didn’t mind. It wasn’t until I set down my drink that I noticed all eyes on me.

“Go on,” Dad urged. “You might as well answer.”

“The job will just keep calling,” Uncle Harold agreed. “At least find out what it is you’re avoiding.”

“Whatever it is, it can keep until after she’s had breakfast.” Aunt Nancy pushed her chair back and headed to the stove where all the breakfast fixings had been covered by paper towels. She mounded eggs, bacon, and pancakes on my plate. Usually she only cooked big breakfasts on Sundays, but I wasn’t about to complain about my good fortune. “You’re skin and bones, tater tot. You need to eat more.”