ripped it up here, no way would he have cleaned it up. Cleaning wasn’t his strong suit.
Although the cleanliness of this room no longer mattered, she stuffed them in her pocket to be thrown away when next she saw a garbage can. That done, she double-checked the dresser—still empty—and moved on to the desk. The long desk drawer where she’d kept her pens and highlighters clunked against the lock when she pulled.
She frowned and tried again, wiggling it a little. She had never locked this desk. Why would she? She had nothing of value, and Walt had always preferred to scream his curses, not write them down.
The key lay in the first of the small drawers. The lock clicked and she finally pulled it open. Then froze.
A small envelope stared up at her. Her name was scrawled across the center in an elegant hand. Not her mother’s handwriting, either, and certainly not Walt’s.
She pulled it out and turned it over, revealing a red wax seal.
“Elegant,” she said into the hush, feeling a dark foreboding seep into her gut.
The interior of the envelope flashed gold, as did the frame of the cream-colored stationery tucked inside. Written on the paper, in the same delicate scrawl was:
Dearest Charity,
I know where your mother is.
What a surprise, I know, given Roger is still in the dark. But then, few people can hide from me.
To visit her now would certainly mean your demise, given the status of your magic. Have no fear; I will hold the information close to my heart until you are ready to commence the next phase of your life. When you are ready, just let one of my people know. They are always near.
Best wishes,
Your Best Friend Forever
Chapter Four
Her vision pulsed white. Her blood turned to ice.
“Charity?” Dillon called from the front.
She couldn’t look away from the note. She couldn’t find her voice to answer.
“Charity, do you need help?” Footsteps rang down the hall, the pace urgent. “Oh, there you are. Hey—what’s the matter?”
Still Charity couldn’t look away from the note clutched in her shaking hand.
Dillon stepped in next to her and peered down at what she was holding. “Your best friend forever?”
“Vlad. It’s what I call Vlad. B-F-F.”
“Oh sh—” He braced his hands on her upper arms. “Let’s show this to Devon. Do you need to get anything else? Hand sanitizer, perhaps? I’d take a squirt, too, if you have some.”
Her mouth moved but nothing came out. Her heart pinged around her ribcage.
“Yep, let’s get moving. Devon is currently in a standoff with Dale. Cole is siding with Dale, saying we should capture the demon and question it. Which is ridiculous. If the person who summoned it isn’t a total idiot, they would’ve bound the demon from talking. It’ll just waste time. There’s obviously a reason Dale doesn’t have his own pack. Devon can definitely take him, but it’ll be a hard fight, and they’ll both take a lot of damage. We don’t have time to wait for them to heal. Especially now that… Well, Vlad just threatened you, right? His people are always near?”
Vlad hadn’t threatened her—he had found her mother.
Vlad knew where her mother was, and while he could be lying…she doubted it. A vampire like him wouldn’t need to.
“What do you need from me?” Her voice was hoarse, as though she hadn’t used it in decades. She could barely feel her legs. What she could feel, however, was her magic. It bubbled and built, rising through her body. Electricity energized her, sizzling through her arms and across her skin.
“Best-case scenario, you quickly end the challenge, delicately if possible, free Devon up to actually lead, and make sure we get the hell out of here. That demon is drawing attention from some interesting characters. Some of those spectators look like they had meth for breakfast. Seeing a real-life demon when you are probably plagued with theoretical demons is not a fun party. Three of the spectators are packing. I don’t feel like getting shot today.”
“You are awfully chatty.”
“It’s stress. Stress makes me talk.”
Walt sat muttering to himself on the floor next to his recliner, one eye swollen shut.
“We didn’t know what to do with him,” Dillon said, barely pausing to gesture.
“Leave him.” Charity pulled the note tighter to her chest. “If I’m lucky, I’ll never see him again.”
“We’ll make sure you’re lucky.”
The sun rained down on the strange scene outside. Devon stood opposite Dale, engaged in a silent stare-off. Cole waited behind Dale, his enormous shoulders squared and his