“I know,” I said, sitting next to him in the grass. I picked up his hand and patted it. “They got to Sirhan.”
“No.” He rocked his head back and forth. “Not Sirhan. They wanted him, I heard them say it.…” He blinked, blinked, as if trying to clear his thoughts. He squeezed my hand weakly. “Gracie, the Shadow Kings were headed for our house.…”
Chapter Thirty-two
EVIL DEEDS
STILL FRIDAY MORNING
Baby James was gone.
The Shadow Kings had taken him.
When we got to the house, we found the front room window shattered and another one of Brent’s makeshift gas bombs under the coffee table. Mom and Dad, who must have been waiting up for us to return from the parish, were knocked out cold on the couch. Daniel stopped to check their pulses, but I ran straight up the stairs. Charity was unconscious in her bed, probably unaware that anything had even happened. But James was just gone.
Taken from his toddler bed, blankey and all.
We gathered a rescue party immediately. Every last member of the Etlu Clan volunteered to help us search for any trace of the Shadow Kings, but still we found nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Every scent we followed seemed to evaporate into thin air. Every trail dead-ended. By eight thirty a.m., four hours later, we’d reconvened at the house to talk over new strategies.
“I don’t understand,” I said, pacing the front room. “How can there be no trace of the SKs? When they kidnapped me, Gabriel was able to follow their trail easily to find me at the warehouse.”
Jude cleared his throat. He sat on the sofa next to April. “Gabriel only found the Shadow Kings because they wanted to be found. It was a trap, remember?”
I nodded, recalling that now.
“If they don’t want to be found, they won’t be found,” Jude said. “That’s how they got their name, the Shadow Kings are masters of hiding in the dark.”
I scrubbed my hands down my face, pacing some more around the coffee table. The first time James had been taken from this house—stolen by Jude while he was under the influence of the wolf—before we found him, I’d thought that not knowing what had happened to him was the worst part. But this time, knowing who had him … Knowing what they were capable of doing to him…
Knowing was worse.
“I promised James I’d keep him safe,” I said.
This is your fault, snarled the wolf. I’d gone almost a full day without hearing its voice, and it almost startled me now. You brought this upon them with your promises. Promises you can never keep.
It’s your fault.
It’s your fault.
It’s your fault.
I grabbed the closest thing to me—Dad’s Bible from the coffee table—and chucked it through what was left of the front room window. Shards of glass shattered out onto the porch.
“This is my fault!” I cried. “I promised James I’d protect him. I promised him, and now he’s gone. They took him from me.”
Someone should to die for this.
I picked up another book and was about to throw it out the window, but Daniel grabbed my hand. He wrapped me in his arms, and I broke down, crying. “It’s my fault.”
“Shhh, Gracie,” Daniel said, running his fingers through my hair. “Get ahold of yourself. They want you to lose control, but you can’t. Don’t let them win by giving in to these thoughts. Caleb is a sociopath. There’s no way you could have predicted his behavior, or caused it to happen by making a promise. This isn’t your fault.”
I nodded against his chest, trying to let his words reassure me.
“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” Jude said. He picked up the knife that sat on the side table—the same knife he’d tried to kill me with when he was entranced.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The SKs came to the parish because of me. Because of a message I sent them.”