32 Calvin

I peel my gloves off and toss them in the passenger’s seat. Norman waits for me at the door where the house meets the garage. “How was your evening?” he asks as he follows me downstairs to the basement.

“Fairly uneventful. Cataline?”

“She was in the library last I saw, but she’s not been feeling well. I believe she went to bed.”

“Oh?” I step into the closet to undress. “What’s the problem?”

“The flu, perhaps. Not sure. Maybe even a fever.”

“Aren’t you monitoring her?”

“I took her temperature earlier and it was normal, but she felt warm.”

I leave my armor in a heap on the floor and pull on drawstring pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. “When did you last see her?”

“Late this afternoon. Around six.”

“I’m going to check on her, and then we can debrief. Meet me in the study.”

“Very well.”

I stop by the kitchen for the wrapped sandwich waiting for me on the counter. I grab half and head for the library. Cataline isn’t there, so I turn to leave when I notice her slippers near the chair she usually sits in. I shove the rest of the sandwich in my mouth and jog up the stairs to her bedroom. The door is unlocked, so I step in and switch on the lights. When I see her empty bed untouched, my blood runs icy in my veins.

I call out for her. I enlist all of my senses, but her scent is faint, and the mansion is quiet. Norman comes running when I yell for him as I race through her room to check the bathroom and try her window. “Cataline’s not in here or the library. Where the fuck is she?”

Norman cocks his head and looks around the bedroom. “Don’t worry. She has to be somewhere.”

I scan his face a second and say, “She’s not here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” I say. “Where is she? Pull up the security footage.” Norman’s face is frozen in shock until I yell, “Now.” As he sprints away, I push the palms of both hands into my forehead. Think, think, think. Unfamiliar panic suffuses my system.

I enter the basement just as Norman is pulling up the video. “Here.” He points at the screen. “When Michael took out the trash, she fled through the back door.”

“What time was that?”

He looks up at me. “Right after I saw her.”

“It’s almost two in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

I rub my hands over my face and kick a steel cabinet. “Goddamn it. Goddamn it. How did this happen?”

“Master Parish, please. We’ll find her. She can’t have gotten that far on foot.”

“And if someone else finds her first?”

“You’re afraid she’ll give you up?”

My brain won’t register his question.

“If it’s the Cartel you’re worried about, how would they know where to find her?” he asks, shaking his head. “No, you’ll get to her first.”

“They’re looking for anything to use against me. Which direction did she go?” I ask.

He purses his lips. “The forest.”

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