two search teams out. Dennis—” Lucas looked my way. “Dennis Malone. You met him at the meeting today. He’s been called in to coordinate the operation from headquarters. He advises that we begin several blocks from where Jacob phoned. The teams are currently searching the blocks on either side of that point.”
I twisted to face Lucas. “Do we have any idea what happened to Jacob?”
“Dennis replayed his phone call for me—”
“Nine-one-one?”
Lucas shook his head. “Our personal emergency line. All Cabal employee children are given the number and told to call it instead. The Cabals prefer to avoid police involvement in any matter that may be supernatural in nature. An employee’s family is told that phoning this number ensures faster response times than calling nine-one-one, which it does. The larger Cabals have security and paramedic teams ready to respond twenty-four hours a day.”
“So that’s who Jacob called.”
“At eleven twenty-seven P.M. The call itself is indistinct, owing to both the rain and poor cellular reception. He appears to say he’s being followed, after leaving a movie and becoming separated from his friends. The next part is unclear. He says something about telling his father he’s sorry. The operator tells him to stay calm. Then the call ends.”
“Shit,” Troy said.
“Not necessarily,” Lucas said. “The cellular signal may have been disrupted. Or he may simply have decided he was making too big a deal out of the matter, become embarrassed, and hung up.”
“Would Griffin let him go to a late movie with his friends?” I asked Troy.
“On a school night? Never. Griff’s real strict about stuff like that.”
“Well, then, that’s probably it. Jacob realized he’d be in trouble for sneaking out and hung up. He’ll probably crash at a friend’s place, and call his dad once he works up the nerve.”
Troy nodded, but didn’t look any more convinced than I felt.
“Jesus,” Troy said as he pulled into the area where Dennis had advised us to park.
He’d squeezed the SUV between two buildings and come out in a tiny parking lot only a few feet wider than the alley itself. Every building in sight was rife with boarded-up windows, the boards themselves rife with bullet holes. Any security lights had long since been shot out. The rain swallowed the glow of the new moon overhead. As Troy swung into a parking spot, the headlights illuminated a brick wall covered in graffiti. My gaze swept across the symbols and names.
“Uh, are those…?”
“Gang markings,” Troy said. “Welcome to Miami.”
“Is this the right place?” I said, squinting into the darkness. “Jacob said he was at a show, but this doesn’t look…”
“There’s a theater a few blocks over,” Troy said. “A gazillion-screen multiplex plopped down in the middle of hell. Just the place you want to drop off the kiddies for a Saturday matinee.” He shut off the engine, then dowsed the lights. “Shit. We’re going to need flashlights.”
“How’s this?” I cast a spell and a baseball-size blob of light appeared in my hand.
I opened the car door and lobbed the light out. It stopped a few yards away and hung there, illuminating the lot.
“Cool. I’ve never seen that.”
“Witch magic,” Lucas said. He cast the spell himself, conjuring a weaker ball of light, and leaving it in his palm. “It has a more practical orientation than ours. I’m not as accomplished at this spell as Paige yet, so I’ll keep my light at hand, so to speak. If I throw it out…well, it rarely cooperates.”
“Splats on the sidewalk like an egg,” I said, tossing him a quick grin. “Okay, then, we have the flashlights covered. Troy, I’m assuming you can handle umbrella duty. So we’re all set.”
We walked to the edge of the parking lot. The skeletal remains of a building rose from a vacant slab of land at least the size of a city block. Scrubby trees, half-demolished walls, piles of broken concrete, ripped-open trash bags, discarded tires, and broken furniture cluttered the landscape. I bent to lift a sodden sheet of cardboard draped over a large lump. Troy kicked a syringe out of the way and grabbed my hand.
“Not a good idea,” he said. “Better use a stick.”
I peered across the field, in one glance picking out a score of places where Jacob could lie low and wait for help.
“Should we try calling him?” I asked.
Troy shook his head. “Might attract the wrong kind of attention. Jacob knows me, but he’s a smart kid. If he’s hiding out here, he’s not going to answer us until he