Leah hung almost lifeless, her eyes half-mast. Yet she summoned the will to spit in Nina’s face. “I’ll never tell you. Never, ever!”
Mara’s rage spread through her limbs and tore at her self-control. She shoved Nina hard, dragging Leah from her grasp and wrapping her fingers around her neck. “Where are Mimi and Fletcher? Tell me, damn you!” she screamed, curling her fingers into Leah’s hair and drawing her head back until her body bowed.
“Let’s play a game, Mara,” Leah choked out with a grin. “I’ll give you a clue, you have to . . .” She swallowed, blood from her split lip seeping from the corner of her mouth. “Guess. You have to guess!” She began to laugh; whatever was broken in her was pulling away, leaving nothing but fragments of the Leah Mara thought she’d always known.
Mara’s teeth clenched, her nose flared again. Still no scent of the children. Suspicion began to claw at her gut. “Liar!” she hollered. “I don’t believe you have them, Leah. You don’t smell like them. Now who’s the liar?”
Leah laughed, sputtering a cackle. “I have them. Yes, yes, I do! Olly olly oxen free!”
“Tell me where the children are, Leah, or I’ll kill you myself!”
Leah struggled against Mara’s grip, her hands clawing at Mara’s. “You’ll never find them,” she said on a harsh gasp for air. “You’re not the only one who’s smart enough to create a serum. I made one, too. I took away their scent. You’ll never find them without me . . .” She was bragging, taunting, and it only made Mara want her dead—pummeled so far into the ground, no one would ever find her remains.
Mara’s other hand went to Leah’s neck, she squeezed until her eyes bulged and unconsciousness was almost upon her. Her hands shook from the force she was using, her head pounding, screaming the wild rage erupting in her.
“Stop!” Harry yelled, putting his hand on hers, pulling. “Stop, Mara,” he said quietly. “She’s the only one who knows where the kids and Jeff are. Stop now!” he bellowed in her ear.
Leah’s eyes popped open when Mara’s grip eased, focusing on Harry, becoming soft. “I loved you, Harry,” she said on a gasp, her chest pumping up and down. “But . . .” She hacked a cough, a tear, glistening in the moonlight, fell from the corner of her eye. “You never even knew I existed. We would have been good parents together. I would have taken good care of them.”
Harry gritted his teeth. Mara watched him gather himself, batten down the hatches on his fear and anger. He ran his hand over Leah’s hair, soothing her, gazing into her dull eyes. “You can still do that, Leah. Take me to them. Good mothers want to protect their children, right? Let’s protect them—together,” he forced the word out as though it tasted sour.
Mara’s eye caught something on the ground, a familiar piece of spiral notebook paper just like the one they’d found at Jeff’s. She scrambled to pick it up, kicking up dirt, ignoring the gash in her forehead she’d somehow acquired. A map. It was a hand-drawn map . . . One Leah had probably made in order to remember the spot where she’d left Mimi and Fletcher. She stared hard at the paper—a piece of it missing. It was torn, frayed, probably from Leah’s fingers worrying the edges.
But it looked familiar.
Her eyes widened. She knew where this was. She and her brothers had played there often as children. The kids were . . .
No. Jesus. No. Not there.
There was nothing there for miles and miles but a grouping of caves and frozen ground and rocks—so many rocks. Even with the strength of their paranormal skills combined, as cold as it was, and the amount of time the children and Jeff had been missing, they’d never find them in the masses of rock before they froze to death. If they hadn’t already. Oh, God, how long had they been there?
Mara’s heart screamed in her chest. Think, Mara, think! There had to be a specific reason Leah had chosen this area. Everything she’d done so far had been carefully planned—meticulous. All of it geared toward an obscure message she wanted to send. A game she wanted everyone to play, to recognize and validate, while she sat back and reveled in her superior intellect while no one had a clue she was the one pulling the strings of this marionette.
And then she knew. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knew.
“I know!” Mara screamed into the night, holding up the piece of paper. “I know where they are!”
“Where?” Harry rasped, his voice tight.
She couldn’t say it—she couldn’t say the words out loud. She’d rather die than say the words out loud. Turning her back to the group, she forced herself to speak the next words calmly. “Get Guido and Leah and follow me. Do it now!”