Phoenix in My Fortune (A Monster Haven Story Book 6) (16 page)

Chapter Sixteen

With all those people in the house, you’d think somebody would have been able to grab me before I ran out of the house in my nightgown and bare feet in the middle of the night. Into the dark.

I’d nearly hit the woods before Riley caught up to me.

He grabbed my arm and spun me around. “What the hell are you thinking?”

I blinked at him in the brightness of the huge flashlight he’d grabbed from my kitchen junk drawer. “I have to check on Mom.” Despite being out of breath and in a state of near terror, my voice came out calm and matter-of-fact, as if it were three in the afternoon, not three in the morning, and I was off to have a cup of tea with Mom, not check to make sure she was alive.

To be honest, I’d completely lost it the minute I saw those tiny beds all made up. Something snapped. My brain wasn’t clicking into place, and my actions were those of a lunatic.

On some level, I knew that and didn’t give a damn.

Riley squinted in the light and gave my face a long, even look. Apparently, he saw something in my expression that told him not to argue. He lowered the light to the path into the woods. “Fine. We’ll go to the cottage and check on your mom.” He grabbed my hand and led me into the trees.

Three steps in, I realized how stupid it was to walk in the woods in the dark in bare feet.

“Shit!” I bent to grab my foot and rub the spot that had been stabbed by a pinecone. Now that I’d stopped, the reality of where I was and the state I was in crept in. It was freezing outside, and the wind whipped my hair around my head so I could barely see. What the hell had I been thinking?

Riley grunted in the dark and swung the light around to shine on my foot. “Can I convince you to go back for shoes?”

I lowered my bruised foot and shook my head. “I have to check on Mom.” I stepped forward, and Riley stopped me.

He bent in front of me, facing away, and waved his hands at me. “Come on.”

I jumped on his back and locked my arms around his neck like a kid. Part of me thought it was ridiculous, but the weird, disconnected part of me didn’t care.

“Hurry,” I said. I sank into the warmth of him, my teeth chattering.

The light from the cottage was warm and welcoming, and reached through the trees to guide us in. At the door, Riley set me down, and I ran into the kitchen without knocking.

Mom stood at the sink, filling the kettle with water. She glanced up when I came in and set the kettle on the counter. Her face was filled with fear and sadness. I ran to her, a little girl in her nightgown, haunted by the boogeyman, and threw myself into her waiting arms to be comforted.

Within seconds, we were both sobbing and babbling at the same time.

“He was staring down at me, right next to the bed,” I said.

“I felt something crawling up my leg,” she said.

“I couldn’t move or breathe.”

“And then I felt something on my arm.”

“He spoke to me. He said he was going to take the kids, and he did.”

“I pulled the blankets back and couldn’t see anything in the dark.”

“He was so close, I could smell his breath. He touched me.”

“I turned the light on and saw them. The whole bed was alive with crickets. Dozens and dozens of them.”

“I couldn’t wake Riley up.”

“I couldn’t wake Darius up.”

We held each other and cried and talked until we’d chased the boogeyman out of our hearts and minds enough that we could function again.

I was still reluctant to let go of her, though. Wrapped in Mom’s arms, I was five again, and none of this was my responsibility to fix. I knew that, as soon as I let go, I’d have to take control. We had to find our kids.

My cheek rested against her shoulder, and I inhaled one last breath of her. She smelled like the ocean and sunshine and vanilla. I gave her a squeeze and backed away, wiping my eyes.

Behind us the guys appeared from the bedroom, Darius with a broom and Riley with a trash bag.

Riley raised the bag to chest height. “I think we got all the crickets.”

The bag chirped in response.

Darius set the broom next to the old-fashioned refrigerator. “We’ll get rid of them.”

Mom gave him a watery smile. “Thank you.” She returned her attention to the abandoned kettle and continued with preparations to make us some tea. After the guys walked out, she turned to face me. “Zoey, what are we going to do?”

And just like that, I was no longer five and in my mother’s care. I was thirty and in charge of saving the world. Again.

I ran my fingers through my tousled curls and sighed. “Find the kids. Bring them home safely. Defeat Shadow Man before he takes away all our friends and/or kills us.”

She arranged four cups on the counter and measured tea leaves into each one. “That doesn’t sound like a plan, really. It’s a series of goals. How are you planning to accomplish all that?”

I shrugged. “I’ll figure it out. In the end, we always do, right?”

I’m not a very tidy person, but I kept glancing at the broom Darius had left by the fridge. This had been Aggie’s cottage before it was Mom’s, and Aggie didn’t leave things like brooms sitting any old place. I grabbed the broom and opened the broom closet to put it away.

“Wait!” Mom cried out to stop me, but she wasn’t fast enough.

Feathers fell everywhere. Feathers as tall as the ceiling. Feathers as small as my hand. Sharp feathers. Fluffy feathers. Elegant and sweeping feathers, and fat and twisted feathers.

All of them were iridescent and rainbow-hued.

These were not the feathers from our shared visions. Maurice had those. These were different. But they came from the same source.

The two of us stood in stunned silence, her for getting caught, and me for having made the discovery.

“You lied,” I whispered. I took a step back, feeling as if I’d been physically slapped.

“I don’t know what to say.” She spoke in a tiny, hushed voice.

I bent and picked up a feather. “How many times did you talk to the Simurgh, Mom? When were you going to tell me?” I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing. I wanted to believe my mother would never go behind my back. I’d thought we’d been growing closer, but she’d been hiding the truth from me. Devastation and anger warred inside me.

All those times we’d had simultaneous, matching visions were lies. While I was getting scraps of clues, she was getting daily conversations. Possibly for a long time, judging by the closet’s contents. I nudged the pile of feathers with my bare toes.

My quiet voice shook. “What did she say to you that she couldn’t say to me?”

Mom took the kettle off the burner and shut off the stove. She reached out to touch me, but I pulled away. Hurt flashed across her face and was gone. “Come with me.”

She led me to the library and sat me in a chair across from her. Her hands were steady as she smoothed her bathrobe over her legs, lips pursed, to gather her thoughts. “First of all, I know it looks like I’ve had a hundred conversations with her, but that’s not the case. It’s only been a handful of times. The feathers come whether I talk to her or not. Handfuls of the damn things at a time.”

That didn’t make me feel any better. “Why is she talking to you and not me? What’s she been saying? Does she know where to find Shadow Man so we can rescue the kids?”

Mom rubbed the space between her eyes with her fingertips. I tried not to think about how often I made the same gesture.

Her head tipped forward as she stared at her hands. “I sought her out. It wasn’t the other way around.”

I frowned. “You contacted her. How is that even possible?” I didn’t bother asking why. If I’d thought to do it, I would have. Of course there was a little matter of
how
to contact the Simurgh. I didn’t have the slightest idea of how that could be done.

She gave me a sheepish look through the curls that had fallen forward over her face. “You’re not going to believe it.” Slipping her hand into her bathrobe pocket, she produced a CD with a beach sunset on the cover and the title
Meditation for Mind and Body Awareness
. “I used this.”

Unbelieving, I took the plastic case from her and looked it over. “Seriously? It’s one of those cheapo CDs from a kiosk in a drug store.
This
helped you get in touch with the Simurgh?” I waved it at her, almost accusatory in the gesture.

She gave me a slow nod. “I was stunned. But it put me in the right frame of mind, I guess. It opened the pathway to her.”

It sounded easy. Which added to my anger and confusion. “But you didn’t tell me. How long has this been going on?”

“About a week.” She scooted forward in her chair. “Look, I wanted to tell you, Zoey. But at first, the Simurgh wouldn’t even talk to me. I didn’t want to tell you until I was successful. Then...” She trailed off, her eyes focused somewhere other than what was in front of her.

“Then what?” I put my hand over hers. “What happened?”

She gave her head a shake to clear it and her gaze focused on me. “Then she answered me. We talked a lot, but mostly about everyday things—being a mother, the taste of apples, the weather. She’d been alone so long, once she got started, she didn’t want to stop talking. I had to tell her to stop after a while. We have a lot going on here, and I can’t sit around meditating all day.”

I snorted. “If it gets us some answers, you can.
Did
you get us any answers?”

She hesitated for less than a second. It was barely perceptible, but I caught it.

“No. She won’t tell me anything she hasn’t told you.” She glanced toward the window. “Except that it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.” She gave me a weak smile.

I tasted the lie. Since honing my empath skills, I’d become something of a human lie detector. Even with my shields up, the lie was bitter and smelled like burnt hair. I couldn’t imagine why she would feel she had to lie to me about anything. I pressed, trying to get her to come clean.

“She must have told you something, Mom. Maybe something obscure to tell us where to look for Shadow Man? Something about how to defeat him?”

I felt her reluctance and sadness surrounding the lie. Whatever it was, she was lying to protect me.

She shook her head. “No. Nothing.”

“Maybe how to get that damn book to share its secrets?”

A cloud crossed her eyes and was gone. “I’m afraid not, honey.”

I gave her a long look. She didn’t squirm or waver in her expression. She was holding something back, but she wouldn’t tell me what. I pulled myself out of the chair, disappointed. “Fine. If you’re not going to tell me, can I borrow some shoes to get home? Riley shouldn’t have to carry me just because I tore out of the house worried about you.” I refused to look at her and returned to the kitchen to wait.

I heard her moving around in her bedroom, then she touched me on the shoulder. “Here.” She handed me socks and a pair of sneakers. “We’re only half a size off from each other, I think.”

I sat in a kitchen chair and put them on, not sure what else to say. We’d had our difficulties when she’d first come home—despite both being Aegises, we didn’t do things the same way. It took us a little while, but we finally understood each other better. And having my mother back after so many years was incredible.

But now I felt like I couldn’t trust her. That was far worse than butting heads over how to handle a squonk with a toothache.

I rose to leave. “Thanks for the shoes.” I still didn’t look at her. My heart hurt too much with disappointment. “I’ll get them back to you.”

“Zoey, wait.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “Please look at me.”

I considered walking out the door, but I reminded myself that I was an adult, and I had an emergency to take care of at home. Acting like a petulant child because my mommy wasn’t telling me what I wanted to hear wasn’t just immature, it wasn’t how I normally handled myself.

I kept my expression neutral and turned to face her.

She dropped her hand from my shoulder. “If I had any information that could help you find those children, I swear I wouldn’t hold it back from you. I need you to know that. I love you more than anything on this earth. But I love those kids, too. If you can’t believe in me, at least believe in that.” The emotion in her eyes begged me to understand, and her voice was soft and pleading. She looked so small and delicate, as if a puff of wind could break her. Or a harsh word from me.

I blinked back the tears forming in my eyes. I was being an idiot. If she wasn’t telling me something, she had a good reason. My mom wasn’t the bad guy. And she wouldn’t help the bad guy, either.

“I do believe in you,” I said. I put my arms around her and hugged her. “I love you, too. I know you’re holding on to something, though. Don’t keep it in forever, okay?”

She squeezed me tight. “I promise.”

We parted, and Riley met me at the door. “Ready?” He glanced at my feet and relief registered on his face.

I nodded and looked back at Mom. “We’ll find the kids and we’ll stop this guy.”

She smiled and handed me a coat, her eyes filled with love and pride. “You’ll beat him, Zoey. You’re stronger than anything else out there. I believe in you, too.”

I returned her smile, then turned away so she wouldn’t see the tears fall to my cheeks.

Once we were out of the clearing and into the trees, Riley stopped me and took my hand. “What happened in there? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. We’ll talk about it at the house so the rest can hear it. Then you can all tell me I’m crazy.” I patted the pocket of the coat I’d been wearing. Mom had slipped me the meditation CD.

“Oh, I don’t think I need to wait to get home for that.” He drew closer to me, his face a mask of mock seriousness. “You’re crazy.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, though my heart wasn’t in it. “Thanks.”

But back at the house, I didn’t get a chance to tell anyone what had happened with Mom.

I went straight to my room to take off Mom’s shoes and put on some sweats. I glanced at my side of the bed, near the window, and shivered. Maurice had cleared out the crickets, but the sense of violation would take some time to erase.

My phone lit up on the nightstand and vibrated. The call was from our area code, but I didn’t recognize the number. Still, when someone called at four in the morning, I answered. It was usually some sort of emergency.