Silence (19 page)

So we were looking for someone strong enough to tamper with minds, or as Scott put it, erase memories. The correlation to my own lost memory didn’t slip past me. Could a Nephil have done this to me? A knot tightened in my stomach as I pondered the possibility.

“How many Nephilim have that kind of power?” I asked.

“Who knows? Definitely the Black Hand.”

“Have you ever heard of a Nephil named Jev? Or a fallen angel, for that matter?” I added, increasingly aware that Jev was most likely one or the other. Not that the realization made me feel the least bit consoled.

“No. But that’s not saying much. Almost as soon as I found out about Nephilim, I had to go into hiding. Why?”

“The other night I met a guy named Jev. He knew about Nephilim. He stopped the three guys—” I caught myself. No need to be vague, even though it was easier on my state of mind. “He
stopped the fallen angels I told you about from forcing a Nephil named B.J. into swearing fealty. This is going to sound crazy, but Jev gave off some kind of energy. I felt it like electricity. It was a lot stronger than anything the others gave off.”

“Probably a good indicator of his power,” Scott said. “Taking on three fallen angels speaks for itself.”

“He’s that powerful, and you’ve never heard of him?”

“Believe it or not, I know about as much as you when it comes to this stuff.”

I remembered Jev’s words to me.
I tried to kill you.
What did that mean? Was he mixed up with my kidnapping after all? And was he strong enough to erase my memory? Based on the intensity of the power radiating from him, he was capable of more than a few simple mind-tricks. A
lot
more.

“Knowing what I do about the Black Hand, I’m surprised I’m still a free man,” Scott said. “He must hate that I’ve made a fool of him.”

“About that. Why did you desert Hank’s army?”

Scott sighed, dropping his hands heavily on his knees. “This is a conversation I didn’t want to have. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to put it out there. The night your dad died, I was supposed to keep an eye on him. He was on his way to a dangerous meeting, and the Black Hand wanted to make sure he was safe. The Black Hand said if I succeeded, it proved he could count on me. He wanted me in his army, but it wasn’t what I wanted.”

A chill of premonition tingled up my spine. The last thing I’d expected was for Scott to bring my dad into this. “My dad—knew Hank Millar?”

“I blew off the Black Hand’s order. Figured I’d give him the finger and make my point. But all I really succeeded in doing was letting an innocent man die.”

I blinked, Scott’s words cascading over me like a bucket of ice water. “You let my dad
die
? You let him walk into danger and did nothing to help him?”

Scott spread his hands. “I didn’t know it was going to be like that. I thought the Black Hand was crazy. I had him pegged as an egotistical freak. I never got the whole Nephilim thing. Not until it was too late.”

I set my eyes straight ahead, staring steadfastly at the ocean. An unwanted sensation clenched my chest, squeezing relentlessly.
My dad.
All this time, Scott had known the truth. He hadn’t given it to me until I’d dragged it out of him.

“Rixon pulled the trigger,” Scott said, his voice breaking quietly into my thoughts. “I let your dad walk into a trap, but it was Rixon who stood at the end of it.”

“Rixon,” I repeated. In bitter pieces, it was all coming back. One awful glimpse at a time. Rixon leading me into the fun house. Rixon admitting matter-of-factly that he’d killed my dad. Rixon leveling his gun at me. I couldn’t remember enough to paint the full picture, but the flashes were enough. I was sick to my stomach.

“If Rixon didn’t kidnap me, who did?” I asked.

“Remember how I said I spent the summer following the Black Hand? At the beginning of August, he made a trip out to White Mountain National Forest. He drove to a remote cabin and stayed less than twenty minutes. A long drive for such a short visit, right? I didn’t dare get close enough to look in the windows, but I overheard a conversation he had on his phone a couple days later, back in Coldwater. He told the person on the other line that the girl was still at the cabin, and he needed to know she was a clean slate. Those were his words. He said there was no room for error. I’m starting to wonder if the girl he was referring to—”

“Was me,” I finished for him, stunned. Hank Millar, an immortal. Hank Millar, the Black Hand. Hank, possibly my kidnapper.

“There’s one dude who could probably get answers,” Scott said, tugging his eyebrow. “If anyone knows how to get information, it’s him. Tracking him down could get tricky. I wouldn’t know where to start. And given the circumstances, he might not jump to help us, especially since the last time I saw him, he nearly broke my jaw for trying to kiss you.”

I flinched. “
Kiss me?
What? Who is this guy?”

Scott frowned. “That’s right. I guess you wouldn’t remember him, either. Your ex—Patch.”

B
ACK UP ,” I ORDERED. “PATCH WAS MY EX?”
This didn’t match with Marcie’s story. Or Vee’s, for that matter.

“The two of you broke up. Something to do with Marcie, I think.” He flipped his palms up. “That’s all I know. I moved back to town in the middle of the drama.”

“Are you sure he was my boyfriend?”

“Your words, not mine.”

“What did he look like?”

“Scary.”

“Where is he now?” I asked more forcefully.

“Like I said, finding him won’t be easy.”

“Do you know anything about a necklace he might have given me?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“Marcie said Patch was her boyfriend. She said he gave me a necklace that belongs to her, and now she wants it back. She said he made me see the good in her and brought us together.”

Scott stroked his chin. His eyes laughed at me. “And you bought it?”

My mind reeled. Patch was my boyfriend? Why had Marcie lied? To get the necklace? What could she possibly want with it?

If
Patch was my boyfriend, it explained the flashes of déjà vu every time I heard his name, but—

If he was my boyfriend, and I’d meant something to him, where was he now?

“Anything else you can give me on Patch?”

“I hardly knew the guy, and what I knew scared the crap out of me. I’ll see if I can hunt him down, but I can’t make any promises. In the meantime, let’s focus on a sure thing. If we can get enough dirt on Hank, maybe we can figure out why he’s taken an interest in you and your mom and what he’s planning next, and come up with a way to bring him down. We’ve both got something to gain from this. You in, Grey?”

“Oh, I’m in,” I said fiercely.

I stayed with Scott until the sun dipped into the horizon. I left my half-eaten fish dinner behind and hiked back along the shoreline. Scott and I said our good-byes at the guardrail. He didn’t want to make a habit of showing his face in public, and judging by what he’d told me about Hank and his Nephilim spies, I understood his caution. I promised to visit again soon, but he shot down the idea. Routine traffic toward the cave was too risky, he claimed. Instead he’d find me.

On the drive home, I reflected. I walked myself through everything Scott had told me. A strange feeling simmered inside me. Revenge, maybe. Or hatred in its purest form. I didn’t have enough evidence to say for sure that Hank was behind my kidnapping, but I’d given Scott my word that I would do everything in my power to get to the bottom of this. And by “bottom,” I meant if Hank had
anything
to do with it, I would make him pay.

And then there was Patch. My supposed ex-boyfriend. A guy who radiated mystery, left a strong impression on both Marcie and me, and had vanished without a trace. I couldn’t picture myself with a boyfriend, but if I had to, I envisioned a nice normal guy who turned in his math homework on time and maybe even played rec baseball. A squeaky-clean description at odds with everything I knew about Patch. Which wasn’t much.

I’d have to find a way to change that.

At the farmhouse, I found a sticky note on the counter. My
mom was out with Hank for the evening. Dinner, followed by the symphony orchestra in Portland. The thought of her alone with Hank caused my insides to free-fall, but Scott had been watching Hank Millar long enough to know he was dating my mom, and had given me a clear warning: I couldn’t, under any circumstances, let on what I knew. To
either
of them. Hank believed he had us all fooled, and it was best to keep it that way. I had to trust that, for now, my mom was safe.

I debated calling Vee, making it clear I knew she’d lied about Patch, but I was feeling passive-aggressive. Give her a day of silent treatment, and let her stew over what she’d done. I’d confront her once I knew she was panicked enough to start telling the truth—for real this time. Her betrayal hurt, and for her sake, I hoped she had a
very
good explanation.

I cracked open a cup of chocolate pudding and ate it in front of the TV, using sitcom reruns to fill up the night. At last the clock slipped past eleven, and I padded upstairs to my room. Peeling out of my clothes, it wasn’t until I returned my scarf to its proper place in the drawer that I noticed the black feather again. It had a silky sheen that reminded me of the color of Jev’s eyes. A black so endless, it absorbed every last particle of light. I remembered riding beside him in the Tahoe, and even though Gabe was
right there
, I wasn’t scared. Jev made me feel safe, and I wished I had some way to bottle the feeling, pulling it out whenever I needed it.

Most of all, I wished I’d see Jev again.

I’d been dreaming of Jev when my eyes snapped open. The creak of wood had penetrated my sleep, jerking me awake. A shadowy figure crouched in my window, blocking out the moonlight. The figure jumped inside, landing in my bedroom as quietly as a cat.

I shot into a sitting position, and all breath left me in a
whoosh
.

“Shh,” Scott murmured, finger to his lips. “Don’t wake your mom.”

“
Wh-what are you doing here?
” I finally managed to stammer.

He pulled the window shut behind him. “I told you I’d pay a visit soon.”

I flopped back on my bed, trying to recover a normal heartbeat. I hadn’t exactly seen my life flash before my eyes, but I’d come embarrassingly close to screaming at the top of my lungs. “You failed to mention that it would involve breaking into my bedroom.”

“Is Hank here?”

“No. He’s out with my mom. I fell asleep, but I haven’t heard them come in yet.”

“Get dressed.”

I gave the clock a look. Then I gave him a look. “It’s almost midnight, Scott.”

“Very observant, Grey. As it turns out, we’re going someplace that will be a lot easier to break into after hours.”

Oh boy. “Break into?” I echoed a little testily, still not recovered
from being woken so abruptly. Especially if Scott was serious about doing something potentially illegal.

My eyes were finally adjusting to the blurry darkness, and I caught him grinning. “Not afraid of a little B and E, are you?”

“Not at all. What’s one felony? It’s not like I have high hopes of going to college or getting a job someday,” I quipped.

He ignored my sarcasm. “I found one of the Black Hand’s warehouses.” Crossing the room, he ducked his head into the hall. “You sure they’re not back yet?”

“Hank probably has a lot of warehouses. He sells cars. He has to store them somewhere.” I rolled over, pulled my covers up to my chin, and shut my eyes, hoping he’d take a hint. What I really wanted was to insert myself back into the dream with Jev. I could taste his kiss lingering on my lips. I wanted to live the fantasy a little longer.

“The warehouse is in the industrial district. If Hank is storing cars there, he’s begging to get robbed. This is big-time. I’m feeling it, Grey. He’s keeping something a lot more valuable than cars there. We need to find out what. We need all the dirt on him we can get.”