At the age of eleven, Evangeline had dimly understood that. But she’d also recognized insanity when she saw it. Every time Wylit came to the house with his Transitioner vassal, she’d taken Addie and Elliot and gotten out of his way. Quickly.
“Lady Emrys,” Balin said, “Lord Wylit will be very pleased we’ve found you at last.”
“Call off your men and back away,” she said, trying to summon the arrogance of a high-ranking Kin lady. Because that’s what I am. “I’m coming out, but if you touch me or my vassal, your lord will hear of it.”
He honored tradition and her right to defend a vassal, just as she’d hoped he would. “I give you my word. You and your vassal have safe passage.”
Evangeline kept her head high and opened the screen door. Three vehicles were parked in the street. One of them was strangely long and boxy. Six or seven men waited on the sidewalk, all dressed in dark clothes.
Jax left the house behind her, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. But that didn’t stop someone from leaping off the roof overhanging Mrs. Unger’s stoop to knock him down. They tumbled off the steps together on the side that had no railing, and before Evangeline could protest, Jax was in the hands of a man with carroty hair and a boy of similar coloring. They thrust him to his knees when he tried to stand, twisting his arms behind his back. A second boy—no, a girl—darted forward, snatched a phone from Jax’s back pocket, and tossed it aside.
“Get off me!” Jax shouted.
“Now, Jax,” said the man cheerfully. “We’re gettin’ you out of harm’s way.”
Evangeline clenched her fists. She was outnumbered and bluffing, but she turned a gaze of fury on Balin. “I see your word is worthless.”
“He won’t be harmed,” Balin assured her. “I’ll bring him with us.”
“We weren’t paid for Jax,” the girl said, and the carroty-haired man called out, “That wasn’t part of the deal. He stays here.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” snarled Jax.
“Lady Emrys, come.” Balin motioned her forward, ignoring the outraged exchanges between Jax and the people holding him. Then Evangeline saw the object being lifted out of the back of the long vehicle.
Her heart flopped over. “No.”
“This is how it’s done,” he said. “For you, it will last no more than a minute.”
Every pretense of calm and coolness deserted her. “No!” She fumbled at the neck of her blouse for the dagger.
Two men came at her from either side, catching her hands and feet and lifting her off the ground. She shrieked and thrashed, but their hands were like iron.
Behind her, Jax yelled, “What’re you doing? No! Don’t put her in there!”
A man standing at the back of the hearse opened the lid of the casket. “Jax!” Evangeline screamed, knowing he couldn’t help her and calling for him anyway. Her captors swung her over the yawning coffin and let go. She hit the silk-lined interior hard enough to knock the breath out of her.
Then the coffin lid dropped closed.
30
JAX DIDN’T KNOW what was worse: hearing Evangeline scream his name as they dumped her into the coffin or knowing he was failing his oath within seconds of making it. “Let her out of there!” he shouted.
“They aren’t hurtin’ her.” Donovan leaned down to say this in his ear, and Jax pushed off his knees with all his strength. The top of his head smashed Donovan in the nose. Jax hurled his body sideways, knocking Thomas off balance, and broke away.
He knew he was going to be in trouble once he got to the brutes who’d thrown Evangeline into the casket, although that didn’t stop him from hurtling toward them. At the last second, the man with the gasoline can whistled sharply, and the men stepped out of Jax’s path.
He thudded against the side of the casket and heaved the lid up.
The coffin was empty.
The pit bull started barking.
“Hey!” The dog’s owner shoved his screen door open and started down his front steps wearing only a T-shirt and boxer shorts. “What’s going on? Did something happen to Mrs. Unger?”
A hand grabbed Jax by the scruff of the neck and hauled him around the side of the hearse. Any thought of calling for help was squelched by the muzzle of a gun pressed against his ear and the cold, dark gaze of Gasoline Guy. Jax swallowed hard and stood very still.
One of the men left the casket to cross the street and distract the neighbor. “No need for alarm, sir. We have the wrong address. But what do you think that is?” He pointed at the red glow in the sky, and as if on cue, the fire station siren wailed across town.
Meanwhile, the coffin was lifted into the rear compartment of the hearse. Understanding hit Jax like a smack across the face. The coffin was a means to transport Evangeline. These people were using it the way Donovan had used the pet carrier—except Jax was sure there’d never been a cat in that carrier and Evangeline was definitely in the coffin. He could feel her there, as if the oath he’d made not two minutes ago bound them like a thread. She was in that casket, but there was no way to get her out until next Grunsday.
Somebody loomed on Jax’s left side. “You want me to take this boy out back, John?” Out back sounded like a bad place to be, perhaps the last place he’d ever be.
“No. I gave my word I’d bring her vassal along. And look who he is.” The first man grabbed Jax’s left wrist and yanked it into the air.
“Aubrey. Now that’s interesting.”
“Get his blade.”
Jax didn’t fight as they unbuckled his sheath and pushed him into the passenger section of the hearse. If he wanted to stay close to Evangeline, he had to cooperate. And with every fiber of his being, he wanted—needed—to go where that casket went.
“We’re taking the other kids as well,” Gasoline Guy said to the other one.
“You sure you want them?”
“They found the Emrys heir when no one else could. I want them.” While the sirens roared and neighbors gathered across the street to look at the glow in the sky, the leader of these thugs walked away from the hearse and approached Michael Donovan.
“Well, Balin, are you satisfied?” Michael asked. He had the same amused lilt in his voice as when he’d called out Terrance at the bank. “You said there’d be a bonus if the Kin girl was the one you were looking for.”
“Yes, I did.” The man picked up his gasoline can again. “Your family has a valuable talent, Donovan. I’ll be recruiting your children for the service of my lord.” Then he bashed Michael in the head with the can. Michael went down like a felled tree, and the twins bolted. Thomas shot toward the rear of the house, and Tegan made a dash for Mrs. Unger’s open front door.
One of the men reached through the bars of Mrs. Unger’s railing and caught Tegan’s ankle. She fell face- first across the threshold. He dragged her backward and scooped her under his arm like a football. With a hand over her mouth, he carried her to the hearse and chucked her in through the open door at Jax’s feet.
Two others cornered Thomas and herded him toward the hearse. The boy held his arms out to either side in apparent submission. But when he got to the door, Thomas grabbed the frame, thrust himself upward, and scrambled over the top of the vehicle. Gasoline Guy—Balin—reached for him and missed. Jax heard Thomas’s footsteps pound across the roof and saw him leap off the other side.
“Go, Tommy, go,” shouted Tegan.