“Vicky, you can’t go charging off to New Hampshire. It’s too dangerous.” He put his hand on my arm. “They’re not doing anything to her right now.”
I shook him off. “You expect me to sit around while my ten-year-old niece is being held captive by that madwoman?”
“Slow down a minute. You drive a distinctive car. The New Hampshire cops know what’s going on—they’ll be watching for you. You won’t make it a mile past the border.”
He was right. Okay, so the Jag was out. I’d break into the garage and steal somebody else’s car. Nothing was going to stop me from getting to Maria.
“Think about a young girl,” I said, “locked in a strange room, crying for her mother. Think about a state that won’t help her because they define her as property. She’s a little girl, Daniel. And she’s not going to stay with those bastards any longer than it takes for me to get her the hell out of there.”
“I can’t let you run off to a state where you have fewer rights than an animal.”
“Listen—”
“But I can drive you there.” He flashed a quick smile and jerked his head sideways. “Let’s go.”
THE ROADS WERE PACKED, AND WE WERE GETTING NOWHERE. Under good conditions, it takes nearly an hour to drive from Boston up into southern New Hampshire, but conditions were lousy. It felt like it took us an hour just to get across the Tobin Bridge into Chelsea. I checked my watch. Not an hour, but a very long twenty minutes.
When Daniel saw me check the time, he rolled down his window and reached under his seat. He pulled out a rotator light and stuck it on the roof of the car, then plugged it into the cigarette lighter. Splashes of blue light washed across the hood. He glanced over at me and shrugged. “I’m not supposed to do this, but . . .” He flipped a switch and a siren blared.
Cars began to pull over, and we got moving. Daniel weaved in and out of the lanes, picking up speed, coming up close behind the cars that wouldn’t get out of the way and leaning on the horn to make them move. He was a good driver, tightly focused on the road. I let him drive. I looked out the window and watched the triple-deckers and convenience stores give way to strip malls, Cineplexes, and car dealers. When those thinned out, replaced by trees, traffic grew lighter. He turned off the siren and unplugged the light.
We drove the next several miles in silence. Then Daniel scratched his head and looked at me. “I don’t understand why your sister let that crazy doctor examine her kids in the first place.”
“Gravett led Gwen to believe that she could do some tests to determine whether Maria is fully human or demi-human. She was lying. If Maria is Cerddorion, her DNA will actually change when she reaches puberty and gains the ability to shift. Until then, there’s no way to know.”
“So why did Gwen believe her?”
I sighed. “Gwen is ashamed of her heritage. More than anything she wants Maria to be a human girl. She wants her daughter to grow up normal, giggling about boys and hanging out at the mall, not trying to control her moods so she won’t shift into a warthog or a monkey.” Of course, getting kidnapped by a mad scientist wasn’t exactly part of a normal human childhood, either. “Gwen hoped Gravett could find a cure. That’s what she called it: a ‘cure.’ That wishful thinking must be killing my sister right now.”
Daniel steered into the left lane to pass an eighteen-wheeler. When we were past it, he said, “If there’s no difference between human and Cerddorion DNA at her age, then the courts will have to rule that she’s human.”
“Maybe. There’s no precedent for a case like this.” Again, I wished Kane were here. He’d be filing motions left and right. “Anyway, I’m not waiting around for the courts to settle anything. I’m taking her home.”
He nodded. We passed the exit for Byfield. Only about ten miles to the state border.
“You do realize,” Daniel said, “that Gravett might be setting a trap for you, using your niece as bait.”
“That doesn’t matter.” I had been thinking about it, though. There was a high likelihood that she’d try. As soon as I crossed the state line into New Hampshire, I’d lose the few rights I had in Massachusetts. Gravett could grab me and then, even if the courts made her return Maria, she’d have me as her own personal guinea pig. “She’s already tried to snatch me once.”
Daniel glanced sideways at me. “When?”
“Two days ago. Thursday. I got a distress call from a fake client at a bogus address. When I showed up there, three guys in ski masks jumped out of a van and tried to kidnap me. It was black van, the same one as today.” I felt a twinge of guilt for thinking Kane had set that up.
“Jesus, I’m glad you weren’t hurt. How did you get away?”
“I shifted into a panther and mauled one of them.”
He turned and stared at me, mouth open. I met his gaze.
A horn blared as we drifted into the other lane. Daniel whipped his head around and jerked the wheel. After that, he kept his eyes on the road. We moved smoothly forward, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
“It’s what I am, Daniel.”
He nodded but didn’t reply. I watched the bare trees go by.
When Daniel spoke again, his voice was thoughtful. “So that’s why you missed our appointment on Thursday. I thought I’d done something wrong.” He ducked his head. “Or that you just plain didn’t like me.”
“I like you, Daniel, but . . .”
“But what?”
But you’re married and you didn’t bother to mention it. “Nothing. This isn’t something to talk about now.”
“You’re right.”
There didn’t seem to be anything to talk about right now. The white lines flashed toward us, disappeared, flashed and disappeared, marking off the miles that would bring us to Maria. But Daniel pulled off at the Amesbury exit, still in Massachusetts.
“Why are we getting off here?”
“There’s a checkpoint at the state line. You don’t have a human ID, do you?”
I shook my head. My driver’s license had PARANORMAL written across it in big red letters. I hadn’t even thought about identification.
“They won’t let you through without one.”
“You know another way in?”
He turned on to a side street. “We’ll have to hike through the woods for about a mile. A buddy of mine left his car for us on the other side.”
“You were pretty sure I’d let you come with me.”
For a second, his tense expression switched to one of those dazzling Daniel smiles. “If you didn’t, I was coming anyway.”
WE BUMPED ALONG A POTHOLED ROAD WITH WOODS ON both sides. Daniel parked in a pull-off. Two trucks and a car were already there.
“Popular spot,” I commented.
“This is an easy place for PAs to cross the state line.” He looked at a green pickup and frowned. “I hope that’s who’s in the woods.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a self-appointed civilian border patrol that watches this stretch of woods. If they catch us on the wrong side of the line . . .” He frowned at the pickup again.
I followed his gaze. The truck’s empty gun rack suddenly looked ominous. “If they catch meon the wrong side, you mean. You’ll be okay.”
He took my hand. “I’m with you, Vicky. No matter what happens.”
I started to pull away, but he tightened his grip, his eyes intent on mine. Okay, I could use his help. For the moment, I’d let him be on my side. Then he could go back to his wife.
We moved through the woods quickly, if not exactly silently. Both of us were city dwellers who didn’t have the faintest idea how to move quietly through the woods. Autumn had left a thick carpet of leaves, and every single one of them crackled and crunched under our feet. It sounded like we were stomping our way across a giant field of cellophane.
“Shh!” Daniel squeezed my hand and stopped, gesturing with his other hand. I glanced around for a big tree to hide behind, but all the trees were slimmer than I was. So I dropped to a crouch, pulling Daniel down with me.
He dropped my hand, reached inside his jacket, and took out his gun, a 9mm Glock. He nudged my arm, then gestured with the gun. Fifty yards away, a potbellied norm in a fluorescent orange hunter’s hat stepped through the brush, holding a rifle in both hands. He was looking away from us, so as quietly as possible, we stretched out flat on the ground. My nostrils filled with the dusty, loamy smell of dead leaves, and I pinched my nose to keep from sneezing. My heart pounded so loudly I couldn’t tell whether the hunter was moving closer or farther away.
After what felt like an hour, Daniel tapped my arm. “He’s gone,” he whispered. “But he went the way we were heading. We’ll have to go around the long way.”
I thought of Maria, locked away somewhere north of us, and every way seemed like the long way. We half ran, trying to be quiet, stopping every few yards to listen. Daniel kept the Glock out, but we didn’t see the hunter—whatever he was hunting—again. Twenty minutes later, we emerged from the woods onto another road. Daniel paused, looking left, then right. “I think it’s this way,” he said, turning right.
We kept inside the woods, following the road. Twice we heard a car coming, and twice we dove for the ground. Finally, we rounded a curve, and there sat a blue Toyota with New Hampshire plates.
“Okay,” Daniel said, holstering his pistol, “according to my buddy, the key’s under a trio of rocks next to a birch tree.”
“There’s a birch tree,” I said.
Daniel jogged over to it. “And here’s the key,” he said, coming back a minute later. He opened the passenger door with a flourish. “Welcome to New Hampshire!”
So far, so good. We’d made it in. Now all we had to do was find Maria, avoid whatever traps Gravett had set, and make it out alive.
