That last word seemed to remind him of the open bag of candy corn on the coffee table, and he leaned forward to grab a handful.
“Mom said not to eat that,” Beth said.
“Mom’s not home yet,” he answered.
“But it’s dangerous!” Jessica cried.
“What?” her father said. “Candy corn?”
“No. Being out there in the country. With a possible storm coming and… everything.”
Beth was still smiling. “You don’t want me in Jenks tonight, do you?”
Jessica ignored the words, staring at her book, trying not to chew at her lip. Her little sister was headed right into the path of the darkling invasion, but she couldn’t think of a single way to stop it. Beth had that smug look on her face—this time she really was ready to spill everything she knew if Jessica got in her way.
And this was not the night to get grounded.
“Come on, Dad, let’s get moving,” Beth said. “The Weather Channel will still be here when you get back. Like it ever changes.”
“The weather changes all the time, smarty-pants,” he said, scooping his keys and another handful of candy corn from the coffee table and rising to his feet.
Jessica found herself wishing that she’d become all predatory, like Rex, so that she could slip outside right now and pull the starter cable out of her father’s car. But she didn’t actually know what starter cables looked like and wasn’t a hundred percent sure she could even get the hood open.
What else could she do? Explain that the food chain was about to turn upside down? That Bixby was about to be invaded? They’d only think she was kidding or crazy.
She would have to deal with this at midnight. Along with everything else tonight, Jessica was going to have to make sure her little sister was okay.
“See you later, Jess,” Beth taunted from the front door.
Jessica didn’t answer, and the door slammed with a booming note of finality. She looked at her watch, her stomach slowly winding itself into knots.
Only five forty-five, and already Samhain was off to a brilliant start.
25
11:21 P.M.
RAIN
“Can you still taste him?”
“Relax, Flyboy.” Melissa shook her head. “He’s headed off down Division.”
Jonathan let the car speed up again but glanced in the rearview one more time. Relaxing didn’t seem like such a good idea at the moment. Cops were crawling all over Bixby tonight, hoping to catch Halloween vandals and impose curfew on any kids who’d stayed out late after trick-or-treating. And of course, the sheriff’s department were dying to find whoever had stolen all those fireworks before they were put to use.
The fact that Jonathan’s trunk contained about half of the collection of firecrackers, smoke bombs, Roman candles, sparklers, and rockets of every description certainly didn’t fill him with relaxing thoughts.
“Just let me know if he comes this way again.”
“Don’t worry about the cops. I can taste those rednecks a mile off.”
He leaned forward to look up into the roiling sky, a flicker of lightning illuminating the clouds from within. “What do you figure about that rain?”
“In general, Jonathan, storm fronts don’t have minds. So I have no idea.”
He let out a short laugh, only half sure that she was kidding. Melissa wasn’t usually Jonathan’s favorite traveling companion, but he was glad she was with him tonight. He was too nervous to ride around alone, especially with the police hunting for what was in his trunk.
“All excited about tonight?” she asked.
“Nervous.”
It was Melissa’s turn to laugh. “Jonathan, I know you’re not completely dreading this.”
He sighed. There was no point in bluffing a mindcaster. The night before had been one long flying dream, a half-anxious, half-thrilled rehearsal in his mind.
Jonathan shrugged. “It’s something different.”
“That’s what I like about Bixby: always something different.”
“What about you?” he asked. “A whole day without… what do you call it? Mind noise? Isn’t that your dream?”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Melissa said. “But as the rip grows, all those other minds will be sucked in, polluting our midnight. Frankly, Flyboy, I wish the secret hour would just stay between the five of us forever.”
“Yeah,” Jonathan said softly. He hadn’t thought of it that way, but in addition to all the death and destruction, midnight was about to become something public, something less special. “Me too.”
They pulled onto Jessica’s street, five minutes early.
She was already outside and ran to the car, pulling open the door even before he’d rolled to a stop. She threw herself into the backseat and said, “Okay. Go.”
“Relax, Jess,” he said. “We’re ahead of schedule.”
“I need to get out there early, okay?”
For a moment Jonathan wondered what she meant, but then, slowly but surely, the only possible explanation crept into his mind.
“Beth?”
“Just… drive.”
“She gave you trouble tonight?” Jonathan shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, okay? By the time the sun comes up tomorrow, thousands of people will have seen the blue time for themselves. The secret’s over!”
“I know all that.” Her voice was tight, afraid. “But we have to get moving. Beth’s in trouble.”
He put the car back in gear, easing into the center of the street. “She’s not still out trick-or-treating, is she?”
“Much worse. She’s in Jenks.”
“What?”
“She’s spending the night with Cassie Flinders.”
Melissa put a hand to her head. “Guys…”
Jonathan’s eyes widened. “But that’s right next to the rip!”
“I know!” Jessica cried.
“Guys!” Melissa said, her head tipping back, eyes closed. “Shush your minds!”
Jonathan brought the car to a stop at the next light, looking both ways and then into the rearview mirror, trying to think quiet, relaxed thoughts… and failing.
“Turn left,” Melissa suddenly whispered. “Don’t wait for the light.”
Jonathan spun the wheel and accelerated, whipping the car onto Kerr Street.
“He saw us. He knows your car…” She twitched. “Crap. It’s St. Claire.”
Sheriff Clancy St. Claire—Jonathan’s knuckles went white on the steering wheel as he imagined the lawman’s grinning face. The sheriff could recognize Jonathan’s car from a mile away.
“Which way?” he hissed.
Melissa shook her head. “Don’t know yet. Can’t feel any other cars, but he’s calling it in.”
Jonathan breathed through clenched teeth. They didn’t have much time to get clear of St. Claire. Soon there would be another cop car involved in the pursuit and then another—Bixby police never did things in small numbers. By the time midnight rolled around, they’d all be in handcuffs and miles out of position. Totally unable to help Beth or anyone else, for that matter.
“Hang on,” he said, and pushed the gas pedal to the floor, speeding down Kerr. A few seconds later lights spun in his rearview mirror, the whoop of a siren splitting the night.
“Oh, no,” Jessica said softly. It occurred to Jonathan that she’d been taken home by the cops right after she arrived in Bixby—part of her introduction to the hazards of the midnight hour.
“Don’t worry, Jess. We’ll get there.” He spun the wheel again, turning onto a small residential road called Mallard and hoping there weren’t any trick-or-treaters still out. Fortunately he’d flown over Jessica’s part of town dozens of times and could visualize it perfectly from a bird’s-eye view. Mallard took a winding route toward downtown, then branched into two roads a mile before hitting the highway.
If he could just get to the fork before Clancy caught sight of them again, they’d have a fifty-fifty chance of getting away. Which was better than nothing.