“What?” Enzo let go of Jax’s shirt and tried to yank his arm away.
Jax hung on. According to Melinda, touching his victim was another thing that enhanced his magic. “What’s your deepest, darkest secret?”
“I wet the bed till I was eleven.” Enzo’s eyes goggled.
Jax almost gasped in surprise—not at Enzo’s secret, but at the realization that he could use his talent for defense. “How often did you wet the bed, Enzo?”
“Almost every night.” Enzo gripped his own throat with his hand as if trying to throttle himself. He wrenched away from Jax, stumbling against his buddies, who all burst out laughing.
“Do you want me to keep asking questions?” Jax whispered.
A spasm of fear crossed Enzo’s face. He broke and hightailed it down the hall, shoving middle schoolers out of the way. Jax grinned triumphantly—and then he spotted the Donovan twins watching him from across the hall, their matching green eyes narrow with suspicion. Tegan whispered to her brother, who clenched his fists and stepped forward.
Jax braced himself. You want some too? Bring it on, Thomas.
Suddenly, Billy Ramirez stepped between them. “What did you just do?” he asked Jax, oblivious to Thomas behind him. “How did you do it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jax said gruffly.
“Miss Cassidy and Giana’s brother. What’d you do to them?”
“Nothing.” Jax elbowed past Billy and looked up and down the hall. The Donovans had vanished.
Billy dogged his heels. “Don’t tell me nothing. I know what I saw.”
Jax turned back to Billy. If there was anyone who’d believe the real story, it was this guy. His friend would think Grunsday was the most awesome thing since Doctor Who.
“You can tell me,” Billy said.
“No,” Jax whispered. “I really can’t.”
21
LUCKILY, BILLY STAYED after school for robotics club, and Jax didn’t have to fend off more of his questions on the ride home. The bus disgorged Jax at the end of his block, and he spotted A.J.’s truck and Deidre’s T-bird parked in the street. He quickened his pace when he saw Deidre passing rifles from the back of her car to Mr. Crandall and A.J., who piled them into a foot locker in the bed of the truck.
“What’s going on?” Jax demanded.
“Talk to Riley,” Mr. Crandall said curtly.
“Where’d the guns come from?” Jax stared at Deidre. Now she held a rifle that was almost as big as she was. Deidre might’ve been tiny, but she handled the gun like she knew what to do with it.
“My family’s in the business,” she said with a smile.
Jax gulped. “What kind of business? Mercenary army?”
“Private security.” Then she winked.
What was that supposed to mean? That he was right the first time?
Jax ran into the house and upstairs, where he found Riley packing a duffel bag in his bedroom. “Are we under attack?” Jax asked breathlessly.
Riley looked up. “Nothing like that. I have to take a trip. I’ll be gone through Thursday. Maybe Friday.”
Straight through Grunsday. “Where? And why are you taking guns?”
“Better you don’t know,” said Riley. “Less for you to worry about.”
“But—” Just telling him that gave him plenty to worry about.
“I don’t expect any trouble here, but Melinda is on security, and if you need help, call A.J.’s mom. I just need you to hold down the fort.”
“What—”
Riley zipped the duffel bag closed and tossed it at Jax. “Put that by the front door. I’ll be down in a second.”
Jax carried the bag downstairs, frowning, and as he passed through the living room, he spied Riley’s cell phone on the coffee table. A second later, he’d dropped Riley’s luggage on the floor and was thumbing through phone menus. Riley had made calls to Mr. Crandall and Melinda that afternoon, but prior to that, he’d received a text from Miller—the vassal no one wanted to talk about. Hearing Riley’s footsteps overhead, Jax quickly scanned the messages.
Miller: wylits vassals headed for taliesins. arrival certain by grunsday night.
Riley: not good
Miller: i can get there 1st
Riley: dont blow yr cover. ill go
Miller: u sure? could get ugly
Miller: 1st kill is hardest
Miller: dont think u can do it. ill go
Riley: ill do what i have to
By the time Riley came downstairs, the phone was on the table, the duffel bag was by the door, and Jax was casually clicking through channels on the TV. “Probably nothing will happen,” Riley said. He put the phone in his pocket and slung the duffel bag over his shoulder. “But keep your phone on you. And the radio on Grunsday.”
“Okay.”
Riley left, and Jax darted to a window to watch the truck and the T-Bird pull away. He tried to think of a way he might have misinterpreted those texts, but he couldn’t.
Riley was off to kill somebody.
Melinda chatted with Jax that evening.
Melinda: You ok?
Jaxattax: yeah but where did they go?
Melinda: To check out a security problem. Don’t worry
Jaxattax: they took guns
Melinda: Just a precaution
Jax didn’t buy it. Melinda had told him herself that somebody had wiped out Riley’s family and nearly killed him as well. Jax swallowed hard. When did I start worrying about Riley?
Melinda: You don’t have to stay there. Riley lived alone so many years, he forgets it’s not normal for a boy your age. You can stay with Mrs. Crandall.
Jaxattax: no im ok—supposed to hold down the fort
Melinda: LOL. See you for your lesson on the 8th day. Call if you need me.
Jax barely slept that night. He skipped school the next day because he regretted what he’d done to Giana’s brother and wondered if the brute would pound him into dust today. He also knew Billy would hound him with questions he couldn’t answer, and sure enough, texts started rolling in minutes after the school day ended.
Billy: where r u? cmon jax. tell me whats going on. i can help.
Jax didn’t answer any of them, and when the doorbell rang around eight o’clock that evening, he groaned. It had to be Billy, come to ask his questions in person. Jax ground his teeth together. His guardian was off on some James Bond mission, he had to meet Evangeline on the lawn at midnight, and he didn’t need one more thing to deal with!
But when Jax opened the door, he found a strange man on the stoop. “Jax? I’m Mrs. Unger’s nephew.” The man stuck out his hand, and Jax shook it automatically. “I hear you run errands for her. Thanks for looking out for my aunt.”
Jax shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. Not many kids take the time to look after an old lady.” The fellow looked about fifty years old, with a shock of white hair and a solid build. “I’m dropping off a rug for my aunt’s bedroom. She said maybe you’d help me carry it in.” He pointed his thumb at a conversion van parked outside Mrs. Unger’s house. The back passenger door was open, and rock music pounded from the stereo.
When Jax hesitated, the man added, “My aunt said she’s got cash.”
Jax groaned. “She doesn’t have to pay me.”
The man grinned. “You know how she is.”
“Yeah, I do.” Jax closed the front door and followed him to the van, where a rolled-up carpet lay wedged between the front- and second-row seats.
Mrs. Unger’s nephew climbed into the vehicle, saying, “I’ll get in and push. You pull from the outside.”
Jax glanced back at Mrs. Unger’s house, expecting to see her standing on the stoop waving her wallet, but the front door was closed, the curtains drawn, with no lights on in the front room. “Um, where is—?”