She sidled up and slipped onto the stool next to him. “Hey.”
He glanced her way, gaze sharp. “What’re you doing here?”
“You left me.” She laid a hand on his thigh, curving her fingers intimately around it. She felt him shudder slightly. “I thought we had something special going tonight.”
“Did you?”
“Mmm hmm.” She moved her fingers in slow circles.
“Where’s your friend?”
“Ditched her.” Micki smiled drunkenly. “She wasn’t any fun.”
“I noticed that.” He paused a moment, then smiled. “I’m going to a party. Want to come along?”
“Sure.”
She stood and swayed. He caught her elbow, steadying her. “Not too drunk?”
She giggled. “Not if you’ll hold me up.”
“I think I can manage that.”
“Maybe I better use the little girl’s room before we go.”
“I’ll take you.”
“I can do it, silly.”
“Wouldn’t want you to fall down.”
“’Kay.” She giggled again, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the silliness of it. “If you insist.”
“I do.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and she leaned into him, letting him support her. The more helpless she appeared, the more overconfident he would be. And the greater her element of surprise.
A single stall bathroom, Micki saw. She had hoped for several stalls to muffle a call to Stacy.
She playfully pushed away. “You stay.”
He grinned. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She shut the door and turned the bolt, then retrieved her cell, tucked into her bra.
Got him, she typed. Asked me to a party. No Mac.
Stay put I’m on my way
I’ll try to stall him. No promises.
He tapped on the door. “You okay, babe?”
“One minute,” she called back, quickly flushing the toilet. She ran the water, then the hand dryer.
When she emerged from the bathroom, she found him right outside the door.
“Sorry,” she said. “I texted my friend.”
“How come?”
“She’s freaking out.” He led her to his car, a sporty little number. Black. “Nice wheels.”
“Thanks.”
He opened the passenger side door. She slid in, conscious of her weapon, tucked into her boot. Positioning her feet to afford her the easiest access to it. Wondering when he would make his move. What it would be.
He went around the car, climbed in. “Why’s your friend freaking out?”
“’Cause of those other girls.”
He started the car, but didn’t pull away from the curb. “The ones who went missing?”
She nodded. “They were out celebrating their birthdays, too.”
He smiled, the curving of his lips snakelike. “And you’re not scared?”
“Should I be?”
He reached over, caught her chin, turned her face to his. She met his gaze and realized her mistake. His dark, liquid gaze sucked her in. Lethargy stole over her, creeping up her limbs, leaving her fingers tingling, her head foggy.
“Of course not, sweetheart. Nobody else is grabbing you. I’ve got you now.”
Micki told herself to blink, look away, break the connection. But couldn’t. His gaze was hypnotic. The way Zach’s had been, when he’d broken his promise and used his mojo powers on hers.
But this was different from Zach’s as well. Darker. Suffocating. Strangling her free will.
This was how he did it, she realized. How he’d gotten Miller and Putnam out of their apartments and into his car without a struggle.
“Baby?”
“Yes?” She heard her response as if from a great distance.
“You’re really tired. Why don’t you lay your head back and rest. I’ll wake you up when we get to the party.”
She wanted to argue. Fight it, him. But found herself obediently laying her head back against the rest, closing her eyes.
“That’s a good girl,” he murmured. “Sweet dreams.”
Chapter Fifty-six
Saturday, July 20
3:00 A.M.
Jacqui lived in a small apartment complex sitting square in the middle of a mixed residential area. Zach parked in front of the building and climbed out. The glow of the streetlights revealed a neighborhood that had seen better days.
He found her apartment number and knocked. She opened the door as far as the chain allowed.
“I’m Zach,” he said. “Jacqui?”
She nodded and a moment later allowed him in. A small boy clung to her leg. He looked as worried as she did.
“This is Alexander.”
“Hey, Alexander,” he said.
The boy looked up at him, expression serious. “You gonna fin’ Angel?”
“I am, buddy.” He returned his gaze to Jacqui’s. “Can I see the note?”
She led him into the small kitchen. “It’s there,” she said, indicating the open tablet on the table.
Angel’s sketch pad. He crossed to it. She had jotted the note on the page with the drawing of her tattoo.
Heart with inner flames. A winged creature. Constellations. Seven of them.