And the monster would--Colt had no doubt of that. He had taken Jason because he wanted something, and sooner or later, he would have to reach out again. Until then, Colt just had to keep himself from losing his mind.
Colt started up the car, and the radio came on, even though he couldn’t remember having left it on.
No, not the radio. There was a track playing on his CD player, titled only “Unknown.”
The upbeat yet strangely melancholic twang of the banjo strings filtering through his stereo sent a fresh wave of unease through him. Colt listened, his own heart keeping time to the lilting rhythm of the song. He recognized it as an old Irish ballad. It had been in a movie Gerald made him watch once, some old war flick he’d mostly slept through. The song was about a reckless young man who went out hunting at twilight and shot what he assumed to be a white swan only to discover it was the girl he loved. The ensuing bars of remorse and the promise of a trial gave the song an even more haunting quality, but by the end, Colt was no closer to understanding its meaning than before.
It obviously had something to do with Jason, but what was the changeling trying to tell him? That he was being reckless? That his own actions were going to lead to Jason’s death?
Nothing else played after the song, but Colt kept listening in hopes that maybe there would be a recorded message.
There wasn’t. At least, none he could find. He started the truck and barreled out onto the road. If there was anything else on that damn CD, there was only one person he trusted to find it.
Chapter 15
As Colt stalked into his old apartment, ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone from the various text messages and calls from everyone from Renee and Gerald to Roland and Susan, he was relieved to find the front door unlocked. His heart sank when he looked around the empty living room, but the moment the front door shut behind him, he heard a voice coming from the kitchen.
Ronnie was sitting at the counter, his shoulders slumped as he stared off at nothing in particular. Colt knew the younger ghoul must have heard him come in, but Ronnie didn’t look up.
“You’re back,” Ronnie said, his voice toneless. Colt hadn’t seen him like this in a while. Not since Miles’ death. “How’s the kid?”
“You’d probably know better than I would. I assume you talked to your uncle recently.”
Ronnie finally looked up, steel in his gaze. “I’m not going to apologize for sending him after you.”
Colt sighed, sitting down on the stool across from him. “I’m not asking you to.”
After a moment of silence, Ronnie said, “I heard about Jason. I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Colt said, reaching into the pocket of his jacket for the CD. He had placed it in a sandwich baggie he had found on the floor of the car so he wouldn’t get his fingerprints on it, but he very much doubted the changeling had left any behind. And even if he had, Colt knew the creature’s fingerprints wouldn’t be anywhere in the police database. It was more a matter of being anal retentive than practical. “But I’m going to get him back, and I’m hoping you can help me.”
Ronnie eyed him doubtfully. “That depends. You planning on drugging me again?”
“I’m not going to apologize for that,” Colt said, holding his gaze. “If I hadn’t, neither of us would be sitting here right now.”
He could tell Ronnie wanted to argue, but he thought better of it, letting out a snort instead. “So what is that? That thing left you a mixtape?”
“Just a creepy old song,” Colt answered. “Since I’m pretty sure the little freak doesn’t just want to share his taste in bluegrass music, I was hoping you could help me figure out if there’s some secret message in it. Something I missed.”
Ronnie took the baggie from him, studying the CD closely. He got up from the counter, went over to the couch to retrieve his laptop, and brought it back. He carefully took the CD out of the bag, slipping his finger into the hole, and stuck it into the side slot of the computer. “If there’s anything backmasked or underlaid beneath the audio, I’ll find it.”
Colt nodded. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Ronnie said, sliding a cup of untouched vodka across the counter. “Here, you could use the drink more than