According to Wade, Alton had protested the idea at first, then stopped and rethought the whole thing, in light of these Ryder twins. He’d agreed to let the magical children stay with their families, human or otherwise, so long as we placed charms and traps to notify us of any magical occurrences. These families were our best bet to catch the Ryder twins, and he doubted they’d come after them inside the coven. Alton didn’t say if he knew who the Ryder twins were, but he was going to give Astrid the clearance she needed to do a nationwide search for them.
Personally, I was still worried about my decision. Maybe it would’ve been better if we took the kids with us, after all. Angry at myself over my own inconsistency, I didn’t say much during our next visit. I let Wade take the lead as he told the parents what was going on with their child, since they were humans and had no idea what a magical was.
After a barrage of questions and voiced concerns, we managed to get them to send their son to the coven on a daily basis, while Santana left charms and traps, as per the new protocol. The Orisha she’d left with Micah was more for Santana’s peace of mind, as she’d quickly become fond of the boy. She couldn’t leave one at every house, since there were only so many with her to begin with.
What we were doing wasn’t exactly ethical, since the parents didn’t know about any rumors regarding Katherine Shipton, or that anyone else might be coming for their kids—yet this family had been secretly visited by the Ryder twins, too.
We found the card in their hallway, stuck in the mirror frame. Just like with the Cranstons, the Ledermeyers had no recollection of such a visit taking place. Only then did we manage to establish a pattern, based on intel from Tatyana, Dylan, and Astrid’s second family visit, where the parents were magicals, like the Travises.
“The Ryder twins engage the magical parents and try to get them to hand their kids over, politely, and not in a persistent or disturbing manner,” Wade said as we drove through a familiar neighborhood. “They leave the card, their names. They’re seen and remembered. Whereas, with the human parents, they don’t interact. My guess is that they sneak in and leave the card.”
“As a message to us?” Santana asked from behind.
“I guess so, since they claim to be from the San Diego Coven,” Wade replied, looking at the twins’ business card. “We were apparently supposed to find the cards. I think they must have some kind of magical pull. Otherwise, what guarantee would there be that we’d even notice them in the houses during a visit? They’re not placed in the most obvious of spots, yet here we are, finding them.”
“Who could these people be?” Raffe asked, still playing games on his phone. He seemed sullen and distracted, not his usual calm and friendly self. I’d seen him like this before, but I never knew why he experienced these sudden mood changes. My instinct told me to leave him alone, though, so I did.
“Impostors. But definitely magicals. My money’s on Katherine Shipton. It coincides with the rumors we’ve heard, don’t you think?” Santana replied with a shrug.
“Which makes me all the more uneasy to leave the kids in their homes,” Wade said, giving me a sideways glance.
I had nothing to say to that. He was right, and I felt bad about it, but, at the same time, I knew and understood the importance of capturing Katherine Shipton before she did more harm to the magical community. She’d almost killed us all with Finch’s help. It was safe to assume that she would try the same or worse the second time around.
Ugh, my life was already complicated enough, before I opened my damn mouth.
I looked out and noticed St. Clair’s Café just half a block down the road. My face lit up, remembering the second reason I’d chosen to come with Wade, Santana, and Raffe to this side of town. The Smiths lived nearby, and I hadn’t seen them in a while—before my induction into the coven and its cornucopia of weird and potentially deadly, to be precise.
Ryann was away at UCLA, so I figured they’d welcome a visit from their foster daughter instead.
“Can we stop at the café for a break? There’s someone I need to see nearby,” I said, pointing at St. Clair’s.
Wade frowned. “Who do you need to see?”
“My foster parents. I just want to drop by and check in on them, that’s all. Fifteen minutes, tops. I promise!” I replied, putting on my most innocent puppy face.
“I could use a break and a bagel,” Santana chimed in.
“I need coffee,” Raffe added, his voice low and gruff. It was a tad weird, as if it wasn’t really Raffe talking. I’d heard it before over the past few weeks, but never for long enough to make me worry. Santana and Wade didn’t show any signs of concern. I was definitely intrigued, making a mental note to find the courage and a good moment to ask him about his abilities as a warlock. Those glimmering red eyes I’d seen earlier were definitely involved.
“Fine. You’ve got twenty minutes, Merlin,” Wade commanded, pulling over just outside the café.
“Make it thirty. There’s always a line for the bakery,” I pleaded, as we got out of the car. “I can’t go to the Smiths empty-handed.”
Wade rolled his eyes and motioned for me to go ahead. He didn’t say anything, so I took his gesture as a “Whatever.” Worked for me.
I left him, Raffe, and Santana at one of the tables outside, while I went in and grabbed three lattes and a small pastry basket, complete with scones and banana walnut bread—Mrs. Smith’s favorites, and always a good bribe whenever I needed a favor. They also worked as a peace offering, and I’d had to get her plenty of those for my somewhat turbulent two years in prep school.
This time, however, they were just a heartfelt gift, something I knew would put a smile on Mrs. Smith’s face and would save Mr. Smith the trouble of brewing more coffee before lunch.
When Mrs. Smith opened the door and saw me, she let out a gasp, then beamed like a nuclear reactor.
“Harley!” she croaked, a broad smile stretching her lips. “What a joy! What brings you here, honey? It’s been a while!”
That was her way of saying, “I’ve missed you, and where the heck have you been, child?!”
I laughed as she leaned forward and kissed my cheeks. She then relieved me of the pastry basket, her eyes twinkling with delight.
“I know, and I’m sorry!” I replied. “I’ve been insanely busy lately, but I was in the area with work, so I thought I’d pop by and say hello.”
I followed her inside the house as she led the way into the open-plan kitchen and dining room. This was still one of the best and most decent houses I’d lived in. It was simple and tastefully decorated in a pale blue and beige palette, with hardwood flooring and Art Nouveau lighting. The furniture was all sturdy and functional, and every surface had a little statuette or trinket box or anything that could serve as a decorative object. There was a reason why Ryann and I had gone to such a design-oriented prep school. Mrs. Smith had also been a student there.
Mr. Smith was in the kitchen, wiping his hands with a dry cloth. Over by the counter island stood a teenage boy in cream cargo pants and a pale blue polo shirt—the preppy uniform belonging to the same school. Ryann and I had worn cream skirts, which we’d both hated with the fire of a thousand suns. Looking back now, I understood why Ryann had been so quick to change to pantsuits in college.
“Well, it’s a pleasure to have you here!” Mrs. Smith replied as she put the basket on the counter island, right in front of the boy. He seemed equally dazzled by banana walnut bread, from what I could tell and feel in my tummy. Either that, or he was just hungry. Mrs. Smith took the coffees away, helping herself to one and handing the second over to the boy.
She pointed at the third. “Harley, you’re getting that one. Dad here needs to cut down on the caffeine!”
I chuckled, just as Mr. Smith hugged me, equally thrilled to see me. “Oh, Harley, glad to have you back! We’ve missed you!”
“I know… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll visit more often,” I said, relishing the feel of his fatherly embrace. With everything I’d learned over the past month, I needed this. So much.
As soon as I stepped back, however, I noticed the slight awkwardness in the room. There was always love in this place, and happy thoughts lingered from these people, but this time, it was a little different. The young man was excited and nervous—mostly because of me. We looked at each other for a little while as Mr. and Mrs. Smith exchanged glances.
“Harley, I want you to meet Jacob,” Mrs. Smith said.
I shook the boy’s hand and found myself instantly flooded by a mixture of adolescent emotions—hormonal angst, curiosity and… concern. The latter was a feeling I hadn’t felt since I’d first set foot in the Smiths’ house. He was afraid he’d get carted off to another family. Jacob was a foster kid, like me. I could feel it in my bones.
“You’re fostering again,” I murmured, giving Jacob a warm smile. “I’m Harley. Also a black garbage bag kid.”
“Oh,” Jacob replied, genuinely surprised. “You… You’re the Harley.”
I laughed as Mr. Smith took out some plates from the cupboard and proceeded to serve up the scones and banana walnut bread slices. “The Harley? I take it I’m still famous in this household?”
“Of course!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed. “We always gush about you!”
“Harley, by the way, I ran into Malcolm at the grocery store the other day,” Mr. Smith interjected. “He said you’re working with Homeland Security now? Did I hear that right, sweetie?”
“I forgot y’all know each other,” I said, wearing a nervous smile. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the one on edge in that room. Jacob was close to screaming and running away, from what I was feeling.
Jeez, kid. What’s gotten you so shaken up?
“Yeah, he was sorry to see you leave the casino job. I was surprised, actually,” Mr. Smith replied. “I thought you loved that place! I mean, for your gap year, anyway.”