“I’m so glad,” Blay said as he appeared to brush away tears. “I was worried something might have happened to whatever it is.”
“Something did.” Qhuinn put up his palm. “Lot of marble floors in that place now—well, it’s a long story. Let’s ghost.”
Blay and Z left first. And just before Qhuinn dematerialized along with them, he glanced back at the house. He knew in his heart that he was never returning here and he was surprised at how numb he was to that reality. Then again, it wasn’t his home anymore—if it ever had been in the warm sense of that word. Yet so much of what shaped him had happened here, and even though none of it had been pleasant, his origin story was forever etched in each of the rooms and in all of the acreage.
Yet his parents and Solange were buried in the yard off to the side.
But none of that made him want to do a revisit. He had his memories, and they were more than enough.
With a frown, he looked at the terrace. For all the renovations, he guessed that the bones of the bodies hadn’t been found. As long as the remains had not been exposed to sunlight, they would have survived, and Blay would have put in the effort to make sure things had been properly buried.
Maybe he should have asked Ron. Too late now, and besides, that kind of information changed nothing about anything.
Just before he departed, movement in one of the windows on the second floor got his attention. A small figure that barely came up to the first row of glass panes had stepped into view.
Mouse.
Qhuinn lifted his hand. The little girl lifted her hand back.
And then he dematerialized from the yard he had once known so well.
Three sealed envelopes that were a little bigger than index cards. A cheap sheet of copier paper that was folded in half. A ball of tissue that had been scotch-taped into something hard as a marble.
Qhuinn gave a double-check shake to the manila envelope, even though he knew there was nothing else inside of it. Then he looked at Blay. The two of them were sitting on their bed, Z having been called for a non-emergent assist at the Audience House.
Picking up the piece of paper, Qhuinn unfolded it—and the first thing he noticed was the brown stain across the bottom.
“I think that’s blood,” he said sadly as he rubbed his thumb over it.
Lifting the paper to his nose, he inhaled. Over three years old and dried, yet he still caught the unmistakable scent.
“Yeah, it’s blood.” As he lowered the note, he said, “I never asked you where you found him. And he never volunteered.”
“It was by his bureau,” Blay replied quietly. “As I told Z, I think he was stashing all of this just before he was . . .”
When his mate let the sentence drift, Qhuinn closed his eyes and nodded. Opening them again, he focused on what had been written by a trembling hand:
Anna Sophia Laval
746 Greene Court
Caldwell
No zip code, but it wasn’t needed. Not for hand delivery.
Each of the envelopes had “A. S.” in the center of the front in beautifully executed handwriting, like the initials had been drawn. No trembling when they’d been written.
“Are these love letters?” Qhuinn murmured. “This is a human name.”
“Definitely human.”
“But my brother had no contact with humans. This makes no sense.”
Blay took off his leather jacket, and palmed his cell phone. “How do you spell the last name again? I’m going to check social media.”
“L-A-V-A-L.” Qhuinn tilted the page so his mate could see. “Maybe it’s a fake name, but if he really wanted these to get to her and she was one of our kind? He would have provided her real name.”
“Unless he’s trying to hide her identity.” Blay frowned as he typed things into Facebook. Then Insta. Twitter. “I can’t find anything. Let me see about Google.” A moment later, he shrugged and flashed the front of his phone. “I’m not coming up with a thing.”
“So maybe she is one of us and that’s a false name to protect her. I mean, most humans just have to have a presence on the Internet. It’s like breathing to them.”
“We know who we could ask.” Blay held up his phone. “If you want to.”
Qhuinn nodded. “I need to find this female. Or woman, if that’s the case.”