He ended up leaning against the glass of the living room window. He could see the street below, and there was no sign of Poppy.
No sign of Ash, either.
It was James's fault. He'd been following his mother's trail all afternoon, from decorating job to decorating job, trying to catch up with her. Only to find, once he did catch up, that Ash was already in El camino, and had, in fact, been sent over to James's apartment hours ago. With a key.
putting him alone with Poppy.
James had called the apar tment im mediately. No answer. He'd broken all speed limits getting back here. But he was too late.
Ash, you snake, he thought. If you hurt her, if you put one finger on her ...
He found himself roving over the apartment again, looking for clues as to what had happened. Then, in the bedroom, he noticed something pale against the light brown of the pillowcase.
A note. He snatched it up and read it. And got colder and colder with every line. By the time he reached the end, he was made of ice and ready to kill.
There were little round splashes where the felt-tip pen had run.
Tears. He was going to break one of Ash's bones for each one.
He folded the note carefully and put it in h is pocke t. Then he took a few things from his closet and made a call on his cellular phone as he was walking down the stairs of the apartment building.
"Mom, it's me," he said at the beep of an answering machine.
"I'm going to be gone for a few days.
Something's come up. If you see Ash, leave me a message. I want to talk with him."
He didn't say please. He knew his voice was clipped and sharp.
And he didn't care. He hoped his tone would scare her.
Just at the moment he felt ready to take on his mother and father and all the vampire Elders in th e Night World. One stake for all of them.
He wasn't a child anymore. In the last week he'd been through the crucible. He'd fac ed death and found love. He was an adult.
And filled with a quiet fury that would destroy everything in its path. Everything necessary to get to Poppy.
He made other phone calls as he guided the Integra swiftly and expertly through the streets of El Camino. He called the Black Iris and made sure that Ash hadn't turned up there. He ca lled several other black flower dubs, even though he didn't expect to find anything. Poppy had said Ash was going to take her far away.
But where?
Damn you, Ash, he thought. Where?
Phil was staring at the TV without really seeing it. How could he be interested in talk shows or infomercials when all he could think about was his sister? His sister who was maybe watching the same shows and maybe out biting people?
He heard the car screech to a stop outside and was on his feet before he knew it. Weird how he was absolutely certain of who it was. He must have come to recognize the Integra's engine.
He opened the door as James reached the porch. "What's up?"
"Come on." James was already heading for the car. There was a deadly energy in his movements, a barely controlled power, that Phil had never seen before. White-hot fury, leashed but straining.
"What's wrong?"
James turned at the driver's side door. "Poppy's missing!"
Phil threw a wild glance around. There was nobody on the street, but the door to the house was open. And James was shouting as if he didn't care who h eard.
Then the words sank in. "What do you mean, she's-" Phil broke off and jerked the door to the house shut. Then he went to the Integra. James already had the passenger door open.
"What do you mean, she's missing?" Phil said as soon as he was in the car.
James gunned the engine. "My cousin Ash has taken her someplace."
"Who's Ash?"
"He's dead," James said, and somehow Phillip knew he didn't mean Ash wa s one of the walking dead. He meant Ash was going to be dead, completely dead, at some point very soon.
"Well, where's he taken her?"
"I don't know," James said through his teeth. "I have no idea."
Phil stared a moment, then said, "Okay. Okay."
He didn't understand what wa s goi ng on, but he could see one thing. James was too angry and too intent on revenge to think logically. He might seem rational, but it was stupid to drive around at fifty five miles an hour through a residential zone with no idea of where to go.
It was strange that Phil felt comparatively calm it seemed as if he'd spent the last week being wacko while James played the cool part. But having someone else be hysterical always made Phil go levelheaded.
"Okay, look," he said. "Let's take this one step at a time. Slow down, okay? We might be going in exactly the wrong direction." At that, James eased up on the gas pedal slightly.
"Okay, now tell me about Ash. Why's he taking Poppy somewhere? Did he kidnap her?"
"No. He talked her into it. He convinced her that it was dangerous for me if she stuck around here. It was the one thing guaranteed to make her go with him." One hand on the wheel, James fished in his pocket and handed a folded piece of paper to Phil.
It was a page torn out of a book. Phillip read the note and swallowed. He glanced at James, who was staring straight ahead at the road.
Phil shifted, embarrassed at having intruded on private territory, embarrassed at the sting in his eyes. Your soulmate,
Poppy? Wel l. Well.
"She loves you a lot," he said finally, awkwardly. "And I'm glad she said goodbye to me." He folded the note carefully and tucked it under the emergency brake handle. James picked it up and put it in his pocket again.
"Ash used her feelings to get her away. Nobody can push buttons and pull strings like he can."
"But why would he want to?"