nodded. There was a sudden sinking feeling in my stomach. Please let him be here to tell me they broke up . . . “When you say gone, what do you mean exactly?”
“I don’t know. Away.” He looked down at the floor, continuing in a monotone, “She didn’t come to school this morning.”
It’s getting harder for the purebloods to pretend that the mortal world doesn’t matter, so they’ve started sending their kids to school—human school. Call it the hot new way to play faerie bride. I’m not sure what I think of the idea of a bunch of pureblood kids getting the human childhood I never had, but my opinion won’t reverse the trend. Quentin was in his second year at the human high school near Paso Nogal, and he was doing surprisingly well, all things considered.
I leaned against the counter. “She could be sick. Humans get sick.”
“I know that,” Quentin said defensively. “I went to her house at lunch to check on her.”
“And she wasn’t there?”
“No. Her mom said Katie was gone when she got up. She didn’t take her shoes or her bag or anything.” He swallowed hard before continuing, “I asked if I could look around her room to see if she left a note or something. You know. Investigating, like at ALH.”
“That was clever of you.” The sinking feeling in my stomach was getting worse. “What did you find?”
“I won’t laugh,” I said quietly. Somehow, laughter was the last thing on my mind.
“The air in her room tasted funny. Like . . . well, like blood.”
“And candle wax,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing. Did you touch the windows?”
He frowned. “Of course not. Why would I touch the windows?”
I held up my hands. Lily did a good job, but I could still feel the burning if I thought about it too hard. “I don’t know. But if you had, you’d probably be in a world of pain.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Finish your story, then I’ll tell you mine.” He eyed me, and I added, “Promise.”
“All right.” He sighed. “Her mom came in and said I needed to leave. She was pretty worried.” He bit his lip. “So am I.”
“Understandably.” I picked up the filter and slotted it into place, then turned on the coffee maker. I needed more caffeine before I tried to deal with any more of this.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”
“I probably should,” I said, and sighed. “Come on.” I pushed past him into the living room, not waiting to see if he was following; it’s not that big of an apartment. I sat on the end of the couch, tugging the hem of my skirt until it was even.
Quentin followed, sitting on the other end of the couch. Spike leaped into his lap, and he started scratching the rose goblin behind the ears. “Why would the windows hurt me?”
“Because Katie’s not the only one that’s gone,” I said. “Stacy Brown called this morning because her two youngest children were missing. When I searched their rooms, I found the same scents you found in Katie’s. I’ve also spoken to Tybalt, and he says five children disappeared from his Court last night.”
“Same smell?”
“Same smell,” I said. “I touched a window when I was following the scent trail. It burned my hands.”
“But they don’t look—”
“Lily healed them. Katie . . .” I sighed. “She’s pure human, right? Not thin-blooded or a merlin?” Humans with very small amounts of fae blood are sometimes still capable of working magic and perceiving the fae world; it’s rare, but it happens. We call them “merlins,” and we avoid them when we can. They’re dangerous, in their way.
“She’s human,” Quentin said, glaring.
I winced. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. But Quentin—whatever this is, it’s snatched purebloods, changelings, and now a human girl. What does that mean?”
“It means we have to get her back,” he said, jaw set in a hard line.
“Right,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Does anybody know you’re here?”
“Not exactly. I came straight from school.”
“So kids are disappearing and you just ran out? Did you at least tell Sylvester and Luna you’d be home late?” Quentin’s parents fostered him at Shadowed Hills to be trained in the courtly arts. I’ve never met them, but they must have been fairly minor nobility to place him in a court as unfashionable as Sylvester’s. Judging by the slight accent Quentin displayed in times of stress, they