"Go ahead." He put his hand over the barrel of the gun, palm blocking the end. "Fire at will, Eden Olivia."

Before I could decide whether to do it, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone from my hand and danced backward, hitting Play on the voice mail as he did.

"I see you called a couple of hours ago," Gabriel's voice said. "But I'm certain my phone didn't ring. Is there a problem? Call me."

Tristan tapped the screen and started to text.

"Hey!"

I lunged. He dodged and kept typing until I managed to grab the phone. Too late. The message had been sent.

Need help. Please come. Followed by an address, then, Don't call. Too dangerous. Just come. Please.

I started to text him.

"You know that won't help. What will you say? Sorry, but a madman who lured me to an abandoned hospital sent that. I really don't need help."

I hesitated.

Tristan continued. "Even if you could explain it, he'd come anyway, just in case. The cry for help has been sent. He must answer. It's his job."

"If you mean he's being paid to protect me-"

"Paid? No. I chose my words poorly. It's his duty. One he executes with pleasure. He's formed quite an attachment to you, as has young Mr. Gallagher. And you to them. Three p.a.w.ns in a very old game. Do you like being a p.a.w.n, Eden Olivia?"

I said nothing.

"Of course you don't. You are Mallt-y-Nos. You rule over p.a.w.ns; you are not one of them."

"I am what?"

"Special," he said. "Isn't that what every little mortal wants to be? Oh so very special. Except it's not nearly as wonderful as they think, because when you are special, you inspire avarice and fear. Everyone wants to control you. Use you. If they cannot, they will kill you, because if you are not theirs, you are dangerous. Right now, they circle, watching and waiting. You've seen the ravens. The owls and the hounds. Watching. Evaluating. Do you want to know why?"

"Yes."

"Then start asking questions, Eden Olivia. I've been sending some to you."

"You've been sending me body parts. You killed an innocent-"

"I did not kill Ciara Conway. I merely took advantage of her death to..." He smiled. "Stir the waters. Wake you up. Wake them up. You say Ciara Conway is innocent, and you are correct. Yet there is someone who was even more wronged in this: the girl waiting for you here. She's connected to Ciara and has suffered through that connection. Those responsible for her suffering surround you in Cainsville. Find the connection. Ask the questions. See what it has to do with you."

He turned and headed for the door.

"Hold on," I said. "I-"

"You'd best go find Miss Macy. I may have"-he grinned, all teeth-"moved her. I wouldn't suggest you leave until you find her. That would be very unfortunate for the poor girl. This place doesn't see many visitors."

He walked out. I ran after him, but when I got to the door, he'd vanished, just as he had that night at Ricky's apartment. I knew now that it hadn't been a trick of light and shadow.

As I retraced my steps, I called Ricky.

"He got past you," I said.

"s.h.i.t."

"Not your fault. It was some kind of trick. He's gone now, though, I think."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. We just had a conversation. A very weird conversation. I'll get the girl and-"

I veered into the room where Macy said she'd be. It was empty.

"d.a.m.n it," I muttered. "She's not here. He said he moved her. Great."

"Hold on. I'll be right there."

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN.

After I gave Ricky directions, I searched the room. It didn't take much. The place was about fifteen feet square, with one exit, no windows, and no debris large enough to hide anyone. The walls were covered in graffiti, but it was only the usual "I was here" markers.

As I paced, I tried to call Gabriel to let him know what was going on, but I got a "customer unavailable" recording. I texted a very basic Everything's fine now. Call when you can.

"Hey," Ricky said softly behind me.

I silenced my phone.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "I just want to find her and get out of here."

He gave my hand a squeeze. I relaxed against his shoulder-a brief moment of rest before I looked around.

"It's hide-and-go-seek now," I said.

"Are you sure it's not a wild-goose chase?"

"No, but he suggested he's put her someplace where she can't escape. Meaning she'll be there until someone else finds her. Which isn't likely to happen soon enough."

"s.h.i.t." He exhaled. "We don't have much choice, then."

"I think that's the point. Oh, and Gabriel's on the way." I explained what had happened.

"Well, that's not a bad thing," Ricky said. "Three of us can cover more ground."

We searched the main building methodically, starting at one end and moving through every room, checking any items big enough to hide someone. We were nearly at the end of the first floor when I stepped into what seemed to be a closet. I was about to leave when I noticed rungs, beginning six feet from the floor and extending into the darkness.

I was gaping up when Ricky joined me.

"Huh," he said, shining a light up. "Looks like the bottom rungs are missing. Not exactly an easy climb."

My gaze stayed fixed on those rungs.

"Your gut says she's up there."

"No, I..." I swallowed the denial. "We should take a look."

"Let me give you a boost."

He lifted me to the bottom rung, telling me to test it first. It seemed solid enough, so I pulled myself up and checked each rung as I climbed. Ricky swung up below me, which took some serious upper-body strength, but he managed it with only a few grunts. At the top was a hatch. With some effort, I heaved it open and lifted my flashlight through to- Something creaked in the room above. My flashlight beam landed on a chair, rocking. It stopped as soon as the light hit it. I lifted the light higher and saw that the "rocking chair" had thick leather restraint straps across the base and the back, and two smaller ones on the arms.

That was the only thing in the tiny room. A rocking restraint chair.

"Liv?" Ricky whispered below me.

I continued up. Once I was standing in the room, I instinctively moved away from the chair, but I kept my gaze on it. That's when I noticed the writing on the ceiling.

We are imprisoned by the truth we dare not see.

We are imprisoned by the questions we dare not ask.

At another movement, my gaze moved down. A dark-haired woman in a straitjacket sat in the chair, strapped down, her eyes covered in b.l.o.o.d.y bandages. She rocked forward violently, gripping the wooden arms. Her mouth opened, but she made only a garbled croak, like a raven's caw. Flecks of blood flew from her mouth, and when she opened it, all I could see was a b.l.o.o.d.y, cavernous hole with no tongue. She kept making that noise, that terrible noise, and I was stumbling back- Ricky caught me. He'd scrambled up and grabbed me from behind and as soon as he touched me, the woman vanished.

Ricky held me for a moment. The warmth of his chest and his arms tight around me felt so d.a.m.ned good, the beating of his heart, solid and steady.

"Sorry," I said. "The chair was rocking. Gave me a start."

"Opening that hatch probably set it going. Change of air pressure."

"Which doesn't make that any less creepy." I pointed at the words on the ceiling.

He squinted up. I shone my light. The words were plain as could be, but he kept his gaze searching.

"I, uh, I thought I saw something up there." I rubbed my eyes. "Clearly this place is getting to me."

"I don't blame you. Spooky as h.e.l.l." He gestured at the chair. "That gives me the creeps, for sure."

We headed out. The room led into a long hall lined with doors, all closed. I called for Macy. I'd been doing that since we'd started searching, and there'd been no answer. There wasn't now, either, but Ricky stood in the middle of the hall, listening and looking. His gaze traveled one way and then the other. Then, without a word, he started for the door at the end.

He eased the door open, switchblade in hand, me at his shoulder. After a quick look inside, he walked through.

It was a room with a half-dozen cribs. I stood in the doorway thinking, There are babies in mental hospitals? Then I realized the cribs weren't for children.

Like regular cribs, they were made of wood with an elevated bed and spindles. Except these ones were adult sized, with lids that could be fastened using thick leather straps. Cribs to restrain patients. To hold them there, lying on their backs, unable to move- A b.u.mp sounded, and I jumped, remembering the woman in the rocker. But Ricky heard this one and moved toward the noise, his switchblade in one hand, cell phone flashlight in the other. Another b.u.mp. Then the sound of m.u.f.fled cries. I hurried forward to see a dark-haired woman in the last box.

I stopped short. I'd seen two hallucinations of dark-haired women already, but Ricky quickly unfastened the straps and pulled off the lid, and it was indeed a woman inside. She was a couple of years younger than me, blindfolded and gagged.

"Hold still," Ricky said. "I'm going to cut off-"

She went wild, thrashing and screaming behind her gag.

"Not the right thing to say?" he whispered to me.

I spoke louder, to be heard over her panicked struggles. "Macy? It's me. It's ... Eden. You're okay. This guy is with me. He's going to take off your gag and blindfold. Just lie still."

She stopped moving and lay there, tense, sounding as if she was panting behind the gag. Ricky cut off her blindfold first, and when it fell away, he leaned over her.

"You okay?" he asked.

She stared up at him. Gaping, in fact. Yes, Ricky's face wasn't a bad first sight after a near-death experience. He didn't seem to notice, just cut off her gag. Then he went to work unfastening her hands and feet.

"I'm Rick," he said when he finished. "She prefers Olivia."

Macy took a moment to drag her gaze away from Ricky. When she saw me, she blinked.

"Olivia...? Eden...?" Her eyes rounded. "You're..."

She scrambled out of the crib, tipping it over in her haste. I dove after her and she gasped, like I was wielding a hatchet. Ricky grabbed me back as if she was wielding one.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" Ricky said to her.

"That's- She's- I saw her in the paper. She's-"

"Her name is Olivia," Ricky snarled in a tone I'd never heard him use. "And she just saved your f.u.c.king life, so you will show some respect."

"I-I need to leave."

"No, you need to answer some questions. If you don't, I'll lock you back in that d.a.m.ned box until you're feeling chatty."

One could argue this was not the kindest way to deal with a traumatized kidnap victim. But apparently Ricky wasn't in the mood to be charming.

My cell phone blipped with an unread message.

"Looks like I missed Gabriel's call," I said as I took it out. "He pulled in five minutes ago. We'll go down and meet him."

"No," Macy said, shrinking into the corner as she stared at Ricky, her gaze far less admiring now. "I'm not going anywhere with you two. I know who she is."

"You know who my parents are," I said. "You know nothing about me."

"Except that she saved your f.u.c.king life." Ricky glanced my way. "Tell Gabriel how to find us and he can convince her to talk. I'd really rather not have to stuff her back in that box."