It took her a moment to recover, but when she did, her eyes brightened. “You should’ve known them before all that. They were different people then. We all were.” She shook her head longingly. “We used to have so much fun together as recruiters.
“Our job was to go out and find the new Returned and bring them back here,” she explained. “We did that by making them feel safe, special. We were the best at what we did. It wasn’t hard. We each had our own techniques, and we were damn good at it. It wasn’t necessarily intentional, but the girls were always drawn to Thom and Simon. You wouldn’t know it now, but the two of them together were very . . . charming, and those poor girls were scared and vulnerable. They needed someone they could lean on. A shoulder . . . or two.”
No matter how uncomplicated Griffin tried to make Simon and Thom’s relationship sound, it was almost impossible to imagine. All I’d witnessed were the two of them avoiding, antagonizing, or barely tolerating each other.
Friends . . . the “best of friends” . . . crazy.
But Griffin just kept talking. “By the time Simon and Thom had explained what had happened to them—where they’d been taken and how they’d been . . . changed—those girls were willing to follow Simon and Thom anywhere, to become the newest member of the Blackwater Ranch. We had become her new family.” She grinned, her shrug less than coy. “Me, I had different assets. I was in charge of recruiting the boys.”
I thought of the almost-spell I’d fallen under when I’d first met her, the way I’d wanted her to like me, and I could only imagine how unsuspecting boys might feel around her, wanting to please her, to make her notice them. I felt a little queasy thinking of the three of them using their charms to persuade people to join their camp.
“And what if someone didn’t want to be part of your family?”
Griffin’s smile slipped as her eyes narrowed. “The doors were always open. Franco never forced anyone to stay.”
Franco? I’d never heard that name before, but it wasn’t tough to guess he’d been in charge back then . . . back when Griffin and Simon and Thom had been “recruiters.” I wondered if Griffin had used her assets to scheme her way to the top.
“If everything was so great here, why did Simon and Thom leave?”
“Weren’t you even listening?” Griffin scowled. “Their friendship, that bond I mentioned, when push came to shove, it all fell apart over a girl.”
“What girl? Where is she now?”
Griffin laughed, but not like I’d said something amusing and she was laughing with me. It was more like I’d said something stupid and she was laughing at me. “I love it. Love. It.” She clapped her hands together. “I can’t believe no one’s told you. All this time, and no one’s clued you in.” She bit her lip, her eyes bright. She couldn’t wait to drop this bomb; it was written all over her face.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, just say it.” I sighed heavily.
“Willow.” She spat the name quickly, like she didn’t want it in her mouth for too long. Then she sat back and waited for my response.
My mouth fell open. “Our . . . Willow?” I finally managed, super slowly, because the very idea was so . . . out there. “The one we came here with?” But I already knew it was that Willow. How many Willows were there? “I don’t understand.” I hadn’t even realized Thom knew Willow, at least not before Silent Creek.
I could tell Griffin was loving this, having the upper hand. “I figured as much . . . that whole secret-keeping thing Simon does.”
“So, what’d she do, exactly? How did she come between them?”
“In case you haven’t figured it out for yourself, Willow’s toxic. She’s dangerous and she’s toxic. If it hadn’t been for your Willow, things might never have changed. We had a good thing going before she came along. I can’t believe Simon thought he could bring her back here after all these years.”
I frowned. “It’s not like we had a lot of options. We needed your help. Besides, I think you have the wrong idea about Willow.”
Griffin’s jaw tightened and her fists clenched. “And you have a lot to learn about who you can and can’t trust,” she stated, leaving little room for argument.
“Where is she?” I asked, thinking of the way Willow had been separated from us from the start. “Where’s Willow now?”
Griffin got up, her brown eyes sending a shiver of warning up my spine. “She’s fine. For now.” Her boots echoed off the tiles as she strode toward the door. “I could be your ally, Kyra—you should remember that.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Day Thirty
Blackwater Ranch
NOT BEING A PRISONER WAS AN AWFUL LOT LIKE being a prisoner, despite what Griffin said.
The only positive side of my captivity was that I hadn’t been forced into solitary confinement since Natty and I had been assigned to be not-cellmates. While that part was awesome, we hadn’t had word from Simon, Thom, Willow, or Jett in two whole days, which felt like an eternity when you hardly slept and were basically under house arrest.
Two new sunrises to endure, both of which felt like they were getting worse. More painful. And two days of letting our imaginations wander. It was a dangerous pastime, especially when the person detaining you was a gun-toting whack job holding a grudge.
Natty and I had been moved, and our new accommodations were less jail-like and more bunk-like, and now I understood what all the tents here were used for: barracks. Our tent was not what I’d call luxurious, but it was the smell that bothered me most, a combination of dank mold and mildew, which seemed odd considering we were surrounded by nothing but sand.
We were pretty easy to guard, though, since there was only a single tent flap leading inside, with no windows or vents to circulate the stale air.
But at least in the two days we’d been here, I’d had a few opportunities to practice my ability.