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Stray

Page 37

   


Abby and her family lived in North Carolina, which was an hour ahead of us.
According to my quick mental math, she could have been missing for as many as thirteen hours.
My hand clenched around my mug, and I lowered it carefully to the blanket, knowing that if I didn’t put the cup down, I’d crush it. The edges of my vision blurred as the first tears threatened. I blinked them away, impatient for more information. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“We thought you might take the news badly, dear.” My mother watched me through eyes glazed with shock. Maybe they shouldn’t have told her either.
Abby Wade was my mother’s niece, her brother Rick’s only daughter, and in a community with very few women, we were al pretty close, in spite of the distance between us. I’d always thought of Abby as my little sister, and my mother indulged her as she’d never indulged me, because she could send Abby home at the first sign of trouble. Not that Abby ever caused trouble. She was a good girl, liked by literal y everyone who knew her. She was the only family member I’d kept in contact with from UNT. In fact, I’d spoken to her less than a week earlier.
And now she was missing.
“Who’s doing this?” I demanded of the room in general, knowing no one had an answer.
“We’re going to find out,” Daddy said. I looked at him with simultaneous hope and doubt. I was way too old to believe my father could make everything okay, but I stil desperately wanted it to be true.
“They asked for help?”
Daddy nodded, brushing the tip of his chin with the knuckles of his clasped hands. “I’m convening the council. They’l need a description to start with.” He watched me expectantly.
I nodded. “Shorter than Marc but tal er than me. Smal -to-medium build. Black eyes and dark curly hair. Foreign scent—probably a jungle cat.” I glanced at Marc, thinking about what he’d told me the night before.
“Anything else?” my father asked.
“Yeah.” I met his gaze, unblinking. “A broken nose.”
The smal est hint of a smile teased the corner of his mouth, like a twitch. Then it was gone, but it had been enough. He was proud. I could see it. “Thank you, Faythe. I’l pass the description on.”
“The Di Carlos’ plane lands at one, and they need a ride from the airport,”
Michael said from behind me.
I whirled around, and Ethan sputtered as my hair smacked him in the face. I ignored him, surprised to realize I’d slept through Michael’s arrival. I should have known that teaching myself to sleep through the incessant noise in an apartment building would come back to bite me on the ass.
“How many are coming?” Daddy asked.
“Four.” Michael smoothed the front of another in his collection of nearly identical suit jackets. “Bert and Donna, and two of the boys. Vic’s staying behind to help search for Sara.”
“I’l pick them up in the van,” Parker offered, and Daddy nodded.
“What about Abby’s parents?” Mom asked.
“Uncle Rick and Aunt Melissa are coming to meet with the council, but the guys are staying behind, in case they find her.”
“Fine. Thanks, Michael.” Daddy stood to excuse himself, handing his mug to my mother. “I’ll make the rest of the calls personally. We’ll have a houseful by this evening, so I don’t need to remind you al to be on your best behavior.” He was looking at me. Why was he only looking at me?
“What?” I couldn’t be in trouble already. I’d just gotten up.
“We’l talk about Marc’s leg later.”
Oh. That.
“It was an accident, Greg,” Marc said without so much as a glance in my direction.
Daddy eyed Marc with one hand resting on the back of his chair, his gaze unwavering. “She accidentally bit your leg through to the bone?”
Marc blinked but remained silent.
“That’s what I thought.” Daddy turned on his heel and headed for the hal , apparently planning to make the cal s from the phone in his room. He was gruff at times, but almost never truly rude, which meant that he was either real y mad at me for biting Marc, or real y worried about Sara and Abby. I wasn’t sure which I preferred.
With my father gone, my mother fluttered uselessly around the office, clearing away food and general y getting on everyone’s nerves. She couldn’t help it. She was visibly upset, and the only way she knew of to deal with strong emotions was to clean everything in sight.
I hadn’t inherited that particular problem. I dealt with my emotions the old-fashioned way: by tearing things apart. With my teeth and claws.
What the hell, I thought, glancing at the cold remains of their indoor picnic.
I’m hungry anyway. I pulled my top off and dropped it on the floor. The guys stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. Okay, so I’d never stripped in my father’s office before, but I’d have to be naked to Shift, unless I wanted to spend most of my time and money restocking my ruined wardrobe. Which I did not. Did it real y matter whether I took my clothes off inside or on the lawn?
My mother turned toward me with a coffeepot in each hand, her jaw dangling somewhere near her collarbone. You’d think she’d never seen me naked, when I knew for a fact I’d been born that way, and she’d seen me sans clothing on countless occasions since. We’d all seen each other naked; there was no practical way to avoid it, even if we’d wanted to.