Terror seized me so strongly that I was literally trapped by it. I couldn’t make my feet move forward.
And then my mom’s voice called for me.
“Beau? Beau?” That same tone of hysterical panic. I sprinted to the door, to the sound of her voice.
“Beau, you scared me! Don’t you ever do that to me again!” Her voice continued as I ran into the long, high-ceilinged room.
I stared around me, trying to find where her voice was coming from. I heard her laugh, and I spun toward the sound.
There she was, on the TV screen, mussing my hair in relief. It was Thanksgiving, and I was twelve. We’d gone to see my grandmother in California, the last year before she died. We went to the beach one day, and I’d leaned too far over the edge of the pier. Mom had seen my feet flailing, trying to reclaim my balance. “Beau? Beau?” she’d cried out in panic.
And then the TV screen was blue.
I turned slowly. The tracker was standing very still by the back exit, so still I hadn’t noticed her at first. In her hand was a remote control. We stared at each other for a long moment, and then she smiled.
She walked toward me, got just a few feet away, and then passed me to put the remote down next to the VCR. I pivoted carefully to watch her.
“Sorry about that, Beau, but isn’t it better that your mother didn’t really have to be involved in all this?” Her voice was kind.
And suddenly it hit me. My mom was safe. She was still in Florida. She’d never gotten my message. She’d never been terrified by the dark red eyes staring at me now. She wasn’t in pain. She was safe.
“Yes,” I answered, my voice breaking with relief.
“You don’t sound angry that I tricked you.”
“I’m not.” My sudden high made me brave. What did it matter now? It would be over soon. Charlie and Mom would never be hurt, would never have to be afraid. I felt almost dizzy from the relief. Some analytical part of my mind warned me that I was close to snapping from the stress, but then, losing my mind sounded like a decent option right now.
“How odd. You really mean it.” Her dark eyes looked me up and down. The irises were nearly black, just a hint of ruby around the edges. Thirsty. “I will give your strange coven this much, you humans can be quite interesting. I guess I can see the draw of observing you more closely. It’s amazing—some of you seem to have no sense of your own self-interest at all.”
She was standing a few feet away from me, arms folded, looking at me curiously. There was no menace in her expression or stance. She was so average-looking, nothing remarkable about her face or body at all. Just the white skin, the circled eyes I was used to. She wore a pale blue, long-sleeved shirt and faded blue jeans.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me that your friends will avenge you?” she asked—hopefully, I thought.
“I asked them not to.”
“And what did your lover think of that?”
“I don’t know.” It was weird how easy it was to talk to her. “I left her a letter.”
“How romantic, a last letter. And do you think she will honor it?” Her voice was just a little harder now, a hint of sarcasm marring her polite tone.
“I hope so.”
“Hmmm. Well, our hopes differ then. You see, this was all just a little too easy, too quick. To be quite honest, I’m disappointed. I expected a much greater challenge. And, after all, I only needed a little luck.”
I waited silently.
“When Victor couldn’t get to your father, I had him learn more about you. What’s the sense in running all over the planet chasing you down when I could comfortably wait for you in a place of my choosing? After Victor gave me the information I needed, I decided to come to Phoenix to pay your mother a visit. I’d heard you say you were going home. At first, I never dreamed you meant it. But then I wondered. Humans can be very predictable; they like to be somewhere familiar.
“And wouldn’t it be the perfect ploy, to go to the last place you should be when you’re hiding—the place that you said you’d be.
“But of course I wasn’t sure, it was just a hunch. I usually get a feeling about the prey that I’m hunting, a sixth sense, if you will. I listened to your message when I got to your mother’s house, but of course I couldn’t be sure where you’d called from. It was very useful to have your number, but you could have been in Antarctica for all I knew, and the game wouldn’t work unless you were close by.
“Then your friends got on a plane to Phoenix. Victor was monitoring them for me, naturally; in a game with this many players, I couldn’t be working alone. And so they told me what I’d hoped—what I’d sensed—that you were here after all. I was prepared; I’d already been through your charming home movies. And then it was simply a matter of the bluff.
“Very easy, you know, not really up to my standards. So, you see, I’m hoping you’re wrong about the girl. Edythe, isn’t it?”
I didn’t answer. My bravado was wearing off. I could tell she was coming to the end of her monologuing, which I didn’t get the point of anyway. Why explain to me? Where was the glory in beating some weak human? I didn’t feel the need to rub it in to every cheeseburger I conquered.
“Would you mind, very much, if I left a little letter of my own for Edythe?”
She took a step back and touched a palm-sized digital video camera balanced carefully on top of the stereo. A small red light indicated that it was already running. She adjusted it a few times, widened the frame.