“We’re on the same side,” Julian said in his calmest voice.
Johnny Rook whirled on him. His face was red, his throat working. “Don’t you dare tell me what side I’m on, you know nothing, nothing—”
“Enough!” Emma shouted. “By the Angel, what are you so frightened of?”
Johnny slammed his mouth shut. “I’m not frightened,” he said through his teeth. “Just get out,” he said. “Get out, and don’t ever come here again. I’ll text you the address but after that, don’t call, don’t ask me for favors. We’re done, Nephilim.”
“Fine,” Emma said, gesturing for Ty to come toward her and Julian. “We’ll go. Ty—”
Ty slid the knife he’d been holding into his belt and darted up the steps. Julian turned and went after him. The boy at the bottom of the stairs didn’t watch them go; his eyes were fixed on his father.
He wasn’t much younger than Emma—maybe by a year or two—but she felt a sudden inexplicable surge of protectiveness toward Johnny Rook’s son. If he had the Sight, then all of Downworld was open to him: terrifying and inexplicable. In his own way he was like Tiberius, living in a world he saw differently than everyone else.
“Fine, Johnny,” Emma said again, loudly. “But if you change your mind, you have my number in your phone. Under Carstairs.”
Johnny Rook glared at her.
“Call me,” Emma said again, and this time she looked directly at Kit. “If you ever need anything.”
“Get OUT.” Rook looked as if he were going to explode or have a heart attack, so with a last look over her shoulder, Emma went.
Emma found Ty out by the car. Clouds had gathered, scudding in quick bursts across the sky. Ty was leaning against the trunk, the wind ruffling his black hair. “Where’s Jules?” she asked as she got close.
“Over there.” He pointed. “I got into the house with an Open rune. I broke the lock on the basement door. He’s fixing it.”
Emma glanced over toward Johnny Rook’s and saw Jules’s lean, long figure outlined by the stuccoed wall. She opened the trunk of the car, unbuckling her weapons belt. “How did you get here, anyway?”
“I hid in the backseat. Under that blanket.” Ty pointed. Emma could see the edge of a pair of headphones peeking out from under the quilt’s fuzzy edge. “You think Julian’s mad at me?” With the knife put away, he looked very young, his gray eyes clear and open, fixed on the clouds overhead.
“Ty.” Emma sighed. “He’s going to murderate you.”
Julian was heading back toward them. Ty said, “That’s a neologism.”
Emma blinked. “It’s a what?”
“A word you made up. Shakespeare made up words all the time.”
Emma smiled at him, oddly touched. “Well, ‘murderate’ isn’t exactly Shakespeare.”
Ty braced himself as Julian walked directly up to him, not breaking stride, his jaw set, his blue-green eyes as dark as the deep part of the ocean.
He reached Ty and caught hold of him, pulling him into a fierce hug. He pressed his face down into his little brother’s black hair as Ty stood, frozen and astonished at Julian’s lack of anger.
“Jules?” he said. “Are you all right?”
Julian’s shoulders shook. He held his little brother tighter, as if he could crush Ty into himself, into a place where he’d always be safe. He put his cheek against Ty’s curls, squeezing his eyes shut, his voice muffled. “I thought something happened to you,” he said. “I thought Johnny Rook might—”
He didn’t finish his sentence. Ty put his arms carefully around Julian. He patted his back, gently, with his slender hands. It was the first time Emma had seen Ty comfort his older brother—almost the first time she’d ever actually seen Julian let someone else take care of him.
They were silent on the long highway drive back to the Institute; silent as the clouds cleared away, blown inland by the ocean air. The sun was low on the water as they drove up the Pacific Coast Highway. They were silent as they got out of the car and Julian finally really spoke.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, looking at Tiberius. He’d stopped shaking—thankfully, since he’d been driving—and his voice was steady and soft. “It was too dangerous for you to come with us.”
Ty put his hands in his pockets. “I know what you think. But this is my investigation too.”
“Mark texted me to tell me you were missing,” Julian said, and Emma started; she should have guessed that was what all the business with Jules’s phone had been about. “I almost walked right out of Rook’s house. I don’t think he would have let us back in.”
“I’m sorry you were worried,” said Ty. “That’s why I hugged you outside Rook’s house, because I was sorry you were worried. But I’m not Tavvy. I’m not a child. I don’t need to always be there so that you or Mark can find me.”