Hours later, the sound of Owen stretching and complaining woke me. "I shouldn't sleep that way; my back hurts and my ass is numb."

"You got too used to being in a young body; you'll need to be more careful since you're old."

Owen blinked slowly. "I'm twenty-two."

"Well, you were, fifty years ago; now you're made of dirt, so technically you're as old as dirt." I held up my hands. "That's science."

Owen huffed. "That's nuts. This is an actual body now, not dirt, and I didn't age as a spirit. I'm still twenty-two."

"You sound like a cranky old man to me."

Owen gawked blankly for a few seconds before cracking up. "Shut up. I'm hungry. Let's eat something."

After demolishing an entire box of protein bars and drinking three bottles of water, Owen announced he was full. We went outside and spent an hour throwing knives at a tree. It only took Owen a few rounds to get coordinated. Then he was back to normal, grouping the blades in the center of the target.

I threw and did well, but not as great as Owen. "Damn, man, I haven't had a body for fifty years and I still have better aim than you!" he said.

"That's alright, I'm improving; besides, you're the one practicing running around your yard, Bambi."

He shook his head. "I'm ready to hunt. How long has Lilla been asleep?"

I yanked the knives from the tree and wrapped them up. "She's been out since right after she made you this morning. It's getting dark, so about twelve hours?"

"That's not much, considering. The protein bars aren't cutting it. Let her sleep while we go eat dinner. Then, we'll wake her."

I walked toward the truck. "Okay, not in Ellersville, though. I can't handle running into anyone. There's a diner about twenty minutes from here. It's always empty, and the food is good."

Owen climbed in as I turned the key, and the engine roared. Opening the glove box, he pulled out my cell and passed it to me. "You should talk to your friends. It's been almost five days since—"

"I know. I'll check my messages later. Maybe I'll text Emily and Nolan."

"You said you'd call them before we left to find Catriona."

"And we're not on our way to her. We're going to dinner, so let it go." I immediately regretted my sharp tone; Owen was only worried about me.

"Just don't mess up your life."

I pulled onto the main road. "It's already pretty damn messed up. Can I have another hour before I deal with it?"

The rest of the ride was silent.

At the diner, the young waitress wiped the crumbs from the plastic tabletop before setting menus down with a smile and flitting off to get our water. Old country music played softly in the deserted dining room, and the smell of fried food lingered in the air.

The lack of customers was fine with our growling stomachs—our dinner was out within a few minutes. Owen's plate had about two pounds of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn. I had a burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake.

With the food in front of me, I realized I'd ordered Dad's favorite meal. My stomach rolled, and I pressed my fist to my mouth. I couldn't eat it.

Owen was halfway through his dinner when he asked, "Are you alright?"

"This was Dad's usual." I studied my plate. "It shouldn't hurt to look at it, right? It's just dinner."

He set his fork down. "I wish I could tell you it'll stop hurting, but it won't. One day, it'll ache less. He won't be your first thought every time you see a burger, but you'll still think of him a lot. I'm so sorry he's gone."

I pushed the plate to the side. My eyes stung, and I drew a couple of deep breaths to clear my mind. "Me too. I can't eat this. You take it."

Owen pointed at his food. "Trade? It's good, and you have to eat something."

It took me a second, but I agreed. "Sure, thanks."

Owen shifted the plates around and watched until I was chewing a bite of meatloaf before starting on the burger. Then, he asked, "Pink Floyd or The Who?"

Happy with the change of topic, I grinned. "They're both great. It depends on what kind of mood I'm in."

"Yeah, but you'll never go wrong with The Who. They were awesome."

"Still are. I think they released a new album a couple of years ago."

"No way! I want to hear it."

His excitement over something normal was refreshing. "Sure, dude; we can pull it up on my phone."

"Really? I didn't know you had music on that thing."

"Yep. Everything's on the internet."

Owen threw his hands up. "We could've been listening this whole time. Does it work outside?"

"Of course. As long as I have service."

"Service?"

I chuckled. "It works everywhere, usually."

"Groovy. Practice tunes."

***

It was dark when we returned to Owen's house. Lilla had lit some lamps in the living room and the light shone onto the broken down porch.

Owen grabbed the to-go order we'd brought for Lilla. "Perfect, she's up. Maybe she's started the tracking spell." He hopped out, then glanced back when I stayed. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, I'll just check my messages first."

Owen gave me an encouraging nod before closing the door and striding to the house.

I waited for my cell to power on and brace myself for the flood of notifications.

I read through the texts from Nolan. He was worried when I wasn't home the morning after he spoke to me—well, spoke to Owen, actually. After no response, his worry changed to frustration. I didn't listen to his voicemails.

Emily's texts were the same—concern, and then disappointment, when her messages went unanswered. She was upset, and guilt washed over me. I should've handled things better with them; vanishing for days was selfish.

Emily's last text made me smile, even though I knew she was angry.

Emily: Damn it, Bash! Could you tell me where you are? Nolan's camped out on your porch, so we know you haven't been home. You'll have to go there eventually, so I guess I'm about to take my turn stalking your house. Do you see what's happening here? You're making me a stalker! Call me.

I'd call her in the morning. If everything went right, we'd be leaving soon to follow Catriona. I'd come up with a story so they wouldn't keep worrying. Maybe an old friend of Dad's I had to visit. I let my forehead fall against the steering wheel as I sat there, dreading the lies.

With the truck off, the cab grew stuffy quickly in the summer heat. I got out and slipped my phone into my pocket as I entered the house. It surprised me to find Lilla and Owen huddled over a map, talking.

Owen straightened as I walked in. "You're not gonna believe it! Catriona's had days to run and Lilla's spell tracked her to only a few hours from here!"

My eyebrows pulled down. "No way. I expected her to be much farther."

"It won't even take a whole tank of gas."

Lilla's face scrunched up as she nibbled on a fry. "Why didn't she run? It has to be some kind of trick."

I stepped closer to look at the map. There were marks scattered over it. Lilla must've used it a lot. "You think she's outside Atlanta?"

"I'm sure she is."

"There's an international airport there," I said. "Maybe she's gathering all of them to leave?"

Owen tilted his head. "That's possible. With us getting so close, they might want to give another country a try."

"Could be. But why would she wait for them? She could've gone on ahead," Lilla murmured and chewed her straw.

"She's not in a hurry because she doesn't know you can track her," I said.

"That's true." Owen spun toward Lilla. "She doesn't, does she?"

"No. She can't feel it, but something seems off."

He patted her back. "Let's be glad we've caught a break. Finish eating and pack your stuff. I'll collect some things, and we'll go within the hour. Is that okay with you, Bash?"

"Yeah. I was going to call Emily in the morning, but I'll wait until we're done with this."

"You don't need that distracting you. Do it now."

I checked the time on my cell. "It's too late."

"You think she'll care?" Owen's brow furrowed.

"I guess not, I just—" The ringing of my phone stopped me and Emily's picture flashed on the screen.

Owen slapped me on the back as he strolled away. "There you go, man."

My face warmed, and nervous tingles covered my neck. I paced to the front porch for privacy before answering. "Hey, Emily, I'm glad you called."

"Bash?" She sniffed, and I realized she was crying.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have disappeared like that. Please, don't cry."

"I thought you might come home to sleep." She sobbed. "I don't understand."

"What do you mean? Are you at my house?"

I heard scuffling, and then a smooth male voice on the phone. "Hello, Bash."

My stomach twisted. "Shay?"

"I came looking for you, but you haven't been here for days. You're not staying in that dump of a cabin, are you? Does it even have running water?"

As Shay spoke, I dashed to the basement, stumbling on the stairs in my rush, and held my hand up, signaling for Owen to stay quiet. He dropped what he was packing and watched me.

"I'm at Owen's. Why don't you forget Emily and come here?"

Shay chortled. "Why would I do that? She's lovely."

"She doesn't even know about mimics. There's no reason to hurt her," I said, almost begging. I'd do anything if he'd leave her alone.

"Wait a moment." Shay set the phone down with a thump, and then footsteps moved away. It was silent until Emily shrieked and men laughed.

Still chuckling, Shay returned. "She knows a little now, and she's nervous. Or is she normally shaky?"

"Leave her alone!" I yelled as Emily cried in the background.

"Don't worry, I won't let anyone have her yet. There are four of us, and we're starving. I can't allow any fights, so we'll have to wait until all the food arrives."

"What are you talking about?" My heart raced. Sweat ran down my temple, and I wiped it away.

"Emily and Nolan have been worried sick about you; it's all they text about. It thrilled him to receive Emily's message, inviting him here. You'll bring my aunt, and that'll make four meals for four mimics."

"No," I whispered.

"Yes," Shay hissed. "It'll infuriate Mother. I was supposed to deliver you both to her, but I'm not the one that left blood behind. Even a witch as disastrous as darling Aunt Lilla has to have thought to use a tracking spell."

Owen caught my attention to give me a reassuring nod, and my shoulders relaxed a fraction. I wasn't in this alone. The mimics knew Catriona could be tracked, so she wasn't with them. That was good—all of them besides her and Shay seemed to be overconfident idiots.

"Why would I bring you more people to kill?"

"Oh, come on, you know you'll try to save this pretty, vanilla-scented cookie of a girl, and you must be sick of Lilla and her deceptions by now, anyway. I'll practically be doing you a favor."

The doorbell chimed through the phone. "Another appetizer has arrived!" Shay crowed. "Main course, grab dessert and the two of you get over here." The call ended.

Owen gave me a second set of throwing knives. "He has Emily?"

"Yes, and Nolan just got there. He told me to bring Lilla, but Catriona's not there. He said there were four of them." The urge to vomit was strong, but there was no time.

Owen squeezed my arm. "We can do this."

I checked for the knife in my boot before putting the others in my pocket. My hands trembled from the adrenaline rushing through me, and Owen noticed. "Stay cool. We need a plan."

"Yeah." I agreed, but I couldn't focus on strategy; I only wanted to get there fast.

"Let's tell Lilla and even things out a bit." Owen strode to the staircase.

The hair stood up on my arms as it hit me. "That's it! They don't know about you. They're only expecting Lilla and me."

Owen grinned and raced up the steps. "Sounds like we have our plan."

The End 💜