“Where can we start looking for them?” I asked, fear clutching and crushing my heart. “Where could they possibly be hiding?”
Tatyana gasped. “Oh. I think I know,” she said. “I was looking into something in the archives last night, just before Oberon kicked me out. I met a guy, a spirit, who’d once helped the Ryders out some years back. He regretted that because they ended up squatting in his house. Anyway, he said that based on what I was looking for and what he knew about the Ryders, they’d likely be shacked up in a warehouse or abandoned property.”
“Yeah, they wouldn’t open up a rogue interdimensional pocket,” Wade agreed. “That requires Bestiary energy, and we’d be immediately notified.”
“Exactly. So, he suggested we look into the Chula Vista area,” Tatyana replied. “It’s got easy access to both the highway and the ocean, and it has good links into the city and the neighborhoods where our magical watchlist resides.”
Astrid nodded as she typed the data into the system. After a few minutes of searching, she pulled up three possible locations: two warehouses and an abandoned residential property, all within reasonable distance of the freeway.
“This is what Smartie came up with,” she said. “I added Chula Vista into the parameters we’ve already gathered, starting with the gargoyle incidents and everyone involved.”
“Okay, so, how do these three places fit in?” I asked, frowning as I stared at the screen.
Astrid opened the detail files for each property, then exhaled as she pointed at a warehouse on the water’s edge. “That right there. I think that’s it.”
“What makes you say tha—oh…” I mumbled, noticing the detail lines.
My blood ran cold.
“Look who rented it for the past couple of years paid up in advance,” Astrid said.
“Finch Anker,” I read out loud. “Holy. Crap.”
A minute passed in dreadful silence as we all made the connection. We already knew the Ryders worked with Katherine Shipton, but we weren’t sure of the extent of her network, barring what Isadora had told me about her spies being everywhere. Seeing Finch pop up again further enforced my original assessments: they were all connected, and they all had different plans to carry out, independent of each other. I hadn’t voiced this before, nor was I ready to do it now. Everything we had was still circumstantial.
I had a feeling the contents of that warehouse might shed some light—not to mention the Ryders, whom I was dying to take down in shackles.
“Okay. Let’s gear up, then,” Wade said. “Security is looking into the magicals and their families. We need to get these bastards.”
Twenty minutes later, I had Garrett, Dylan, and Tatyana in my Daisy, driving fast behind Wade’s Jeep. Santana, Astrid, and Raffe were with him.
“Thanks for taking me along for the ride,” Garrett said from the passenger seat.
Blood rushed through my veins with enough force to power an entire city. The adrenaline had me plugged in, my gaze darting all over the place as I tried to focus exclusively on the road. My stomach was churning, a thousand thoughts booming through my head at once.
“We need the extra pair of magical hands,” I replied, gripping the wheel to the point where my knuckles turned white.
“Harley, what about Isadora?” Tatyana asked me. I’d already told them about her in the morning. “Do you have any way of getting in touch with her?”
I shook my head. “I tried. She’ll be the one to reach out to me, and I don’t know what the hell she’s doing right now,” I said. “I wouldn’t count on her if I were you. There’s still so much about her that we don’t know.”
“But she did help you,” Garrett chimed in. “I doubt she’s a baddie in this picture.”
“I didn’t say she’s bad. I just don’t think she’s reliable. She should’ve come to me by now,” I replied. “She’s on the run, anyway. Everybody wants her for what she can do, for what she knows.”
“Ugh, right. Portal Opener.” Tatyana sighed. “That’s a tough act to follow.”
“Maybe something happened to her,” Dylan said.
We reached Chula Vista, the sun rising over the ocean and a multitude of storage facilities lining that portion of the shore. Wade sped up, prompting me to slam the accelerator to keep up. We both stopped with a spine-tingling screech outside the warehouse in question.
I took a moment to quickly glance around. It looked abandoned—one large unit with black walls and a metallic roof, flanked by other similar boxes. There weren’t any cars around, or any sign of people in the area. The place looked downright deserted. Behind it, a narrow, overgrown road connected the storage facility to the main access route we’d come down from. A wavy strip of wilderness and sand stretched beyond it, leading to the ocean.
We climbed out of the car, reuniting with Wade and the others. The look on his face told me he didn’t have good news from the security units he’d sent out.
“Four parents dead, three in critical condition. All the kids missing,” he said, his voice low.
It felt like a punch in the gut. “They took them,” I replied, swallowing back tears. “What about the eyes we had on them?”
“All dead,” Wade said.
I had to take a deep breath to stop the crippling fear from taking over. We were dealing with coldblooded magical killers. The lives of twelve innocent children were now at risk, including Micah, Min-Ho, Marjorie, Mina, Samson, Louella, and the others. Then again, we didn’t know whether any of them, besides Kenneth Willow, had willingly joined forces with the Ryders. They were recruiting, after all.
“Okay. How do we do this?” I asked, trying to stay focused on the mission.
“Astrid, stay back here,” Wade replied. “Be ready to call for backup,” he added, putting on his Bluetooth earpiece. “The rest of us will circle the warehouse, check for signs of life, then go in through the front door. We’re already here. If they’re inside, they know we’re coming at this point. Stay on your toes.”
We all nodded and split up into two groups. Wade took me, Santana, and Raffe, while Garrett took Tatyana and Dylan. We headed for the east side, and Garrett handled the west. We moved quietly along the walls, listening carefully for any kind of movement or voices, but we didn’t hear anything. There was nothing but silence.
My stomach was tied up in knots, the anticipation causing beads of sweat to trickle down my temples. We met back in front of the storage unit and exchanged curious glances.
“A little too quiet for my taste,” Garrett whispered.
Wade gave him a brief nod. Something was definitely better between these two. Mainly, I wasn’t getting bad vibes from Wade anymore.
Raffe looked at the extremely wide and tall metal roll-up door, then crouched and checked its lock. Garrett joined him, taking out a slim leather pouch. He produced a steel rod with bent ends, which he used to pick the lock.
I raised an eyebrow. “Really, Garrett?”
“What? I’m keeping my career options open, in case this warlock thing doesn’t pan out,” he shot back with a devilish grin, then took the lock off and got up.
Raffe pulled the door up, leaving a two-and-a-half-yard height of space for us to walk through.
It was dark inside. Wade found the light switch to his right and pressed it.
As soon as the overhead neon strips flickered on, I knew we’d come upon a treasure trove of disturbing yet crucial information. There were dozens of wooden crates and storage boxes, each with an individual lock. We spread out to check everything. In the middle was a large table, with piles of books and manuscripts, rogue sheets of paper, and notepads with frantic scribbles. One quick look, and I realized I was looking at spells and curse alterations.
“They’re using stolen magic,” Wade said, his brow furrowed as he checked the papers. “They got some of these from our coven. I’m guessing the rest came from other covens. They’re modifying and adjusting their recipes and chants.”
“And they have plenty of supplies to go with them,” Santana said, watching as Garrett picked the lock on one of the crates and revealed its contents. It was filled with bottles and jars, strange powders and herbs. The smell alone was enough to make me quiver. “This is all Dark stuff. Like, evil. The predecessor of evil, actually.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“At first glance? This is ancient mojo,” Garrett explained. “Think two to three thousand years back. It’s the kind of stuff that should’ve been lost in the annals of history. Egyptian, Greek, Celtic… dealer’s choice. It’s raw and difficult to work with.”
“Which would explain these alterations,” Wade concluded, pointing at the notes. “They’re refurbishing the classics.”
“Guys. Look at this,” Dylan said, stopping by the eastern wall.
We all joined him, to find a giant corkboard mounted on it. Red string and colored pins had been used to connect various locations and notes. There were printed photos all over it. I held my breath as I recognized all the kids we’d been looking for. Micah Cranston, Marjorie Phillips, Mina Travis, Min-Ho Lee, Samson Prescott, Kenneth Willow, and a few others. Their snapshots were all marked. There was a tick next to Micah, Mina, Min-Ho, Samson, and four more kids under the age of twelve. Marjorie’s head was circled in red. Louella Devereaux was crossed out, as were her parents.
Then, I noticed the other photos—all the parents. Half of them were crossed out, like the Devereauxes. I was paralyzed by the conclusion. “They crossed out the dead people… The ones they killed,” I whispered.
Kenneth Willow and three other teenagers were separated from the cluster, with little hearts drawn in red around their faces. I assumed that was psycho Emily Ryder’s way of pointing out that they’d gotten these kids on their side. It made me sick to my stomach.
“Look here.” Tatyana pointed at several Post-It notes. “These are all details of their abilities.”