If Alejandro could smell the blood, though, so could Thaddeus. The black dog was chained in the back. The steel chains might not ordinarily hold a black dog, except he was still wearing those silver bands. Those bound him, and so the chains did, too. Ezekiel was confident enough that he had allowed the little boy, Con, to go back to his mother, where she sat next to her husband. DeAnn cradled him on her lap, her head bent over his. The boy, too afraid of Ezekiel to close his eyes in the plane, had tucked himself down against his mother and slept at last. Alejandro tried not to resent the boy’s ability to find comfort in the arms of his Pure mother. A decent man would not resent such things… But it was hard. And harder, without Papá to remind him what he should feel and think and do. Alejandro tried to think only of the moment, of the immediate dangers they faced.
There were assuredly enough dangers, both outside the car and inside. Alejandro tried to stay constantly ready for Thaddeus to attempt some desperate last-minute defiance. He was tired and on edge himself, and so if there was violence, the hardest part might be to stop himself from going after DeAnn or little Con or both. Thaddeus probably guessed this. Maybe the fear of what might go wrong during a violent escape attempt was as good as another chain.
“Stop fretting,” Ezekiel said, his voice light and mocking and absolutely impervious to any ordinary weakness. “Thaddeus knows perfectly well that even if he got himself and his family away, his woman couldn’t possibly survive out there in that snow. Around here, anyone they asked for help would help them – and then call Dimilioc. Thad there couldn’t stop them – a Pure wife isn’t always an unmixed blessing.”
Alejandro glanced at Thaddeus again, this time perceiving the knowledge of defeat that dragged the black dog down more heavily than the chains. So, Ezekiel was right. Bueno. Alejandro faced forward again and tried to relax.
They turned north from Brighton and reached Lewis at only a little past seven in the morning, exactly as Ezekiel had predicted. It should have been light by then, but the sun rose late in this frozen country, even if it had not been hidden behind a thick overcast.
Ezekiel grunted suddenly, lifting his head. Alejandro felt it a heartbeat later: a sharp astringent hum in the air, with a low undertone that buzzed in the back of the skull. Though one could not exactly hear it because it was not exactly sound. Nor feel it, as it was not exactly painful.
“Natividad’s been busy,” Ezekiel said, sounding surprised and pleased and worried and angry all at the same time. “What was Grayson thinking, bringing her out this far from Dimilioc? Asking her to draw a circle around a whole town. At her age! If Vonhausel…” He stopped short, shrugging, and glanced back at Thaddeus. “Keep an eye on him,” he told Alejandro. “We may need to go around. That’d be a problem, in this weather.”
Alejandro nodded, understanding. Natividad had never done a circle so big, but if Grayson had asked her to do it, of course she would try. And she would do it right; that wasn’t a surprise at all. That was why he and Ezekiel could pass through it: Natividad’s circle wouldn’t be meant to keep either of them out. But Thaddeus might be exactly the kind of black dog it was meant to stop.
Thaddeus certainly felt the circle. His head was up, his lips drawn back in a grimace that was half a snarl. His wife put a hand on his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder, cradling her son with her other arm. Alejandro could see the tension run out of Thaddeus like anger, or strength. The boy stirred but did not wake.
“I think it will be alright,” Alejandro said to Ezekiel. “DeAnn is protecting them.”
“Just watch him,” Ezekiel said shortly. “Watch them all.” He eased the SUV forward.
Whatever Natividad had done, they felt the pressure of it all the way through Lewis. Then they drove out of it, with a sharp little “pop!” like going up too fast in a plane. Ezekiel only shook his head like a man shaking away a cobweb he had walked through, but Thaddeus shuddered all over and leaned his cheek against the top of his wife’s head.
The road was rougher and narrower once they were through the town. Alejandro found that he could not reliably make out the edges of the road, could barely see the black trees that lined the way, could not begin to guess whether the darkness under those trees was thick with black dogs just waiting for their chance to run out, batter the SUV off the road, tip it over, haul them out to their deaths… His shadow pressed him, wanting to rise. Alejandro would not give way to it, but he wished they were already back at Dimilioc.
“Huh,” said Ezekiel.