"Who?" Inez asks sharply.

"Raven Wheeler," Maria says.

Inez remains silent, but her lips form a grim line.

"She said she'd been 'invited home,' or some such thing. Raven's the only one who'd fit with that, and with being the right age, and bearfolk, too."

"Who is she?" Ian asks.

"Our cousin's daughter," Inez answers, indicating Maria and herself. "Ran away when she was seventeen because she 'fell in love.' Problem was, the man she fell for was near twice her age, and probably only liked her for her pretty face and her...well, you know."

Ian shifts uncomfortably beside me. He's sensitive about the age difference between us, though I don't know why he should be. Fourteen years isn't that much in the scheme of things, and Samasa's memories span centuries. Besides, he might be physically older, but emotionally...? Maybe not so much.

"And she'd never come back?" he prompts.

"Nope," Inez says. "Her mom—our aunt's daughter—told her if she left, she could never come home. Raven left anyway. When the romance ended though, she changed her mind. Her mom didn't."

"So...do you think it was her mom who invited her back, after all this time?" Toni asks.

"Unlikely," Maria answers. "Her mom died years ago."

"Who then? And why? Why now?"

"I think...I might know," Ian says. "I, uh, asked a friend of mine to look into your disappearance, Inez, before you turned up. He didn't find anything useful on that front, but he did find...something else."

The Walkers listen without interrupting as Ian recites the information he got from his detective friend about the previous batches of untimely deaths, seven every forty-nine years.

"If it's happening again, then...maybe someone—whoever's behind this—called that girl home just to kill her. To get one more closer to seven. If so, then we're already up to five."

"That's ridiculous," Inez protests. "I remember the time you're talking about. It was an awful summer—all those fatal accidents. But that's all they were—accidents. Besides, we're a big family—a tree with many twisted and tangled limbs. Bad things happen. And it's not like no one died in the intervening years. Your friend is seeing patterns where they don't exist."

Toni raises a sharp brow. "Seven strange deaths every seven-square years? I think that's more than coincidence."

Inez frowns but doesn't argue. A noise above makes us look up, and we see Sofia and Elliot coming down the stairs. Sofia pauses at the bottom, her eyes landing on me and her face going hard.

"What's that thing doing loose? I thought you wanted it locked up?" she says, addressing Maria.

"We sorted it out," Maria answers coolly, "and I said nothing about chains."

"Sorted what out? It's a devil in disguise, and it attacked Elliot! It could be the thing behind the murders, for all we know!" she says, her voice shrill.

"Sofie!" Cass scolds. "He has a name, and it's Sam. He and his friends weren't even here when the killings started. Don't be such a bitch."

Sofia crosses her arms and raises her chin in defiance. "You're only taking their side because they use the stupid pronouns you like," she snaps. "They is plural, Cass. Live with it."

"Not anymore," Cass argues. "Language changes, bitch. If it didn't, you'd still be talking like Chaucer."

"I don't even know what that means," Sofia sneers.

"Typical."

"Girls!" Maria interrupts, earning a scowl from Cass and a smirk from Sofia, who no doubt noted her mother's reflexive choice of words. "Enough! Elliot, how are you?" she asks, voice softening as she addresses the sandy-haired man at Sofia's back, who looks down at us with a confused, somewhat startled look. A swath of bandages encircle his ribs, and a smaller patch of gauze is taped to the side of his head.

"I'm fine, I guess," he says, brushing his chin-length hair back with a swipe of his hand. "A little sore, but...I don't remember anything. Sofia says I...got attacked?"

"Not quite," Inez says, stepping in. Quickly, we recount for Elliot what happened, but he remains perplexed.

"God. I don't remember any of that. We got back from the airport, and then...I woke up upstairs. I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"

"No, thanks to Sam, you're the only one who got banged up," Maria says.

"Sam?" Elliot looks at me, understandably incredulous.

"Yes, apparently he's... What did you call it, Ian? A kind of Shifter?" Maria asks.

"Er..."

"I'm a demon-human hybrid," I say tiredly. "A dude name Karin played Dr. Frankenstein with an incubus and a boy, and I'm the result. Nice to meet you."

I receive the expected dose of incredulous, curious stares, and press myself a little closer to Ian as another shiver convulses my body. I wish it would stop, but I know it won't until I get some energy. I haven't felt this much like the helpless, loveless kid I once was since before I became something more. Giving in to the exhaustion seeping all the way to my bones, I close my eyes.

Ian sighs. "How long until the tow-truck arrives?"

"Another hour, maybe. There's just the one, and Jim's got a reputation for taking his sweet-ass time," Maria says.

"Alright. I'm gonna take Sam back to our room for a while." He stands and pulls me with him. "If we're not back when the truck gets here, send someone up."

The Walkers agree and Ian stands, pulling me with him. "Come on, little devil," he says as we walk back to the lodge. "Let's get you refueled."

~ ✬~

In our room, I collapse on the bed, but Ian doesn't follow right away. Instead, he gets out his phone and makes a call. I decide that what I really want is a bath, so I start the water running and then come back to sit on the bed and listen to his side of the conversation.

He speaks in a lower, gruffer voice than usual, and I wonder what kind of guy his detective friend is.

"Hunter, sorry to keep bothering you. I—Oh, okay. Dane, then." He stops and clears his throat, going on in a more familiar, friendly tone. "Uh...I got another favor to ask. Can you look into someone named Raven Wheeler? I think she's been murdered."

He gives a quick recap of what we learned about the unfortunate Raven.

"Yeah, just, you know, maybe she's got a friend, or a roommate or something......No, I know you're not Batman......Just, anything you can find......No, I know. I'm sorry...Yeah, that'd be great. And hey, if I make it home alive, I'll owe you big time—anything you want. Money, beer, chew toys—you name it......You want what?......Uh, no, it's cool. Okay, deal."

He disconnects and then stares at his phone, a weird, confused expression on his face.

"What did he want?" I ask.

He shrugs and sets the phone on top of the dresser.

"Riding lessons."

He sees my expression and clarifies, although it doesn't make any more sense.

"With horses. He wants...horseback riding lessons," he says.

I'm not sure I really understand, but I think I'm looking forward to meeting Ian's friends.

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