James’s car wouldn’t start. He’d gotten up that afternoon with plenty of time to get to Gran’s house and take over for Agent Forester. And now, moderately clean and caffeinated, he’d slid behind the wheel of his car and turned the key in the ignition. And it just clicked.

“It sounds like the battery,” Madelyn said a few minutes later, frowning where she stood on the sidewalk, watching his latest attempt. “Do you think it’s her?”

That was what happened last time. The van’s brakes had felt mushy under his foot and the way that Amelia’s scream had cut off so sharply as she hit her head on the window still rang in his ears as he tried the key again. “Hey, James?” Madelyn prompted.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, with a small shake of his head to get the memory out. “It could be. But I’m also overdue on maintenance. So it could just be that?”

He could hope. A grand going into his shitty Chevy for maintenance beat being targeted (again) by a seemingly all-powerful conjurer who lived just over in Ashburnham and had tried to kill him in his car before. “I have to get over to my aunt’s,” James said. “Can you give me a jump? If it’s just the battery, maybe we can get it back to life just long enough to get there.”

“How about I just give you a ride,” Madelyn said. “I’ll come back here and try to jump it after.”

“Oh my God, you’re the best. Don’t feel like you have to jump it, though. I can do it later. But yes, please, thank you. Forester has to get back to Boston and I feel horrible asking him to stay any longer when this was so last minute, anyway.”

“Of course,” Madelyn said. “Come on.”

He followed her over to her little car and went to the passenger side, where he spotted the cryptid kit in the seat. “What did I miss last night?” James asked as he moved it to the back.

“Nothing exciting,” Madelyn replied as distant sirens sounded somewhere downtown. “I was actually off for a few hours too. After Bradley went out back and you went to your office – which, seriously?”

“The couch is fine. It’s better than the beds. Go on.”

“It ended up being nothing,” Madelyn said. “Otherwise, I promise I would have woken you up.”

She was lying, he knew that. But not about it being nothing. “There were some noises outside the Viscoloid building that were caught on camera,” she continued. “Graham and Gabriella went to check, but they took my car because it was parked on the street and all of our cars were here. We didn’t want to wake you guys up just to move your cars, and I didn’t know where your keys were.”

“You could have-” 

“It wasn’t a problem,” she interrupted. “You and Bradley were stuck there, it wasn’t like we were having a slumber party.”

James relented. “Was it anything exciting?”

“Bats. Literally, they got there and heard the squeaking. And from my end, I could hear the distortion over the cameras at the exact same time.”

James laughed as they got into the car. “That’s some impressive detective work.”

“It was the highlight of the night. So where are we heading?”

“My grandmother’s house, over in Lancaster. Well, technically not hers anymore since she’s been gone a few years. But my aunt owns it. They’re all staying there where it’s safe.”

“Is this the house that prompted the Foundation to call Bradley in for an ESP test?”

James buried his face in his hands. “I’m going to kill him,” he muttered.

“He’ll see it coming.”

“Dead. Fucking dead.”

Madelyn laughed and pulled out onto the empty road. They chatted as she drove, James giving her directions as they moved through the quiet streets. A text came through from Celia as they were pulling onto the main road toward Sterling, asking about access to the house.

CELIA

I’m so sorry to ask, but Penny’s laptop is there and there’s school work that requires the software they install, so she can’t do it on mine. Can you get it or would the Foundation be able to write a note excusing her?

Her house wasn’t that far out of the way and he had some time. So yes, it was possible. But James frowned at the message. “What’s up?” Madelyn asked.

“My cousin is asking me to go to the house.”

“What? Why?”

“For her daughter’s laptop. She says there’s software on it she needs in order to do her homework.”

Madelyn grimaced as she stopped for a red light. “Should we? I mean…”

“No, I’m not putting either of us in that position. If the school needs a note or whatever, I’ll write it.”

He sent Celia a text essentially saying the same thing. The answer came back a second later.

CELIA

The school says they won’t take that. She’s going to fail the class. Please get it for her.

That same swoop of fear from the other night when the so-called police called went through him. “This isn’t her,” James said. “Celia wouldn’t ask me to go to the house, she barely wanted me to go back and investigate before Polly Grace was involved. Mads, they’re trying to get me to go there instead.”

Madelyn floored it through the red light as James plugged Gran’s address into her phone and put it in its holder on her dashboard. As they flew down the street, Alice LeRoux and her final ride popped into his head, another string among strings being tugged by powers outside of James’s control. The sirens he heard far behind them didn’t help either.

Messages from Celia kept coming in on his own phone, getting angrier and angrier, accusing him of not caring about the girls, about faking all of this, of just caring about himself. But the phone never rang. It was just messages pouring through, faster than a human could feasibly type them. 

They pulled up outside of Gran’s house about eight minutes later and James was out of the car almost before Madelyn had fully stopped it. He was almost to the stairs when something large and solid smashed into him from the side. James landed painfully in the grass, the fall knocking the wind out of him as someone grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled him up, then slammed him against the ground again.

James clawed at the man’s hands as his head hit the damp grass. They were large and rough, with plenty of force behind them. Unlike the figure in Penny’s bedroom, this was enough weight to keep him pinned.

“You threatened my family, didn’t you!” the man said as James attempted to shove him off. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” James demanded.

“My wife!” the man said as James shoved at him again. “You called her this morning and told her to stop working with that woman.”

So it was McGovern’s fault that James was going to die like this. Yeah, he always knew it would end that way. The man – Devens, apparently – let go and James dragged himself to his feet. He was about to try to employ what little conflict de-escalation training he had, when the man pulled out a knife.

“I told her we shouldn’t do this, but she insisted it was for the best,” Devens said. “You should have stayed out of my family’s business. Now I have to cut your fucking throat.”

“Polly Grace isn’t fucking around,” James started. “She-”

“I’M NOT FUCKING AROUND!” Devens interrupted. “She said blood for money would be enough to cover it and I’m not losing that money. So it’s time to pay up.”

Blood or… that didn’t sound right to James, but Devens lunged at him and he barely got out of the way in time. His own knife was in his car, he hadn’t planned on getting attacked on his way out here today. And from beside him he could hear the front door opening.

“Don’t come out!” he yelled hoarsely to whoever it was.

“Get away from him!” Uncle Tommy yelled from the porch steps.

The knife fell and James had about a second and a half to be relieved before Devens pulled out a small pistol, aiming it directly at James’s head. Uncle Tommy froze.

“Drop your fucking weapon!” Devens said, the words clearly rehearsed. “Drop it or I’ll shoot him.”

James had been threatened with all kinds of danger in his life, but he’d never been held at gunpoint. That was a human danger, not paranormal. And because of that, he had no idea what to do. His firearms training hadn’t covered this beyond, do what they say, they have a gun.

“Alright,” Uncle Tommy said, desperation evident in his voice. “Alright, just don’t hurt him.”

Whatever Uncle Tommy was holding fell to the ground with a dull thud as James stared at the gun barrel, his body cold. He distantly heard the sound of the door opening again and Devens turned, the gun lowering slightly as he was distracted. “Stay where you are,” he said to whoever it was, and James prayed it wasn’t one of the kids.

He heard Agent Forester say something in the doorway, but didn’t catch what it was as the gun moved again. Then Devens was down, the pistol falling out of his hand. For a second, James thought Forester had shot him, but no, he’d missed the crackle of a taser and now Madelyn was standing over Devens as both Forester and Uncle Tommy ran toward them. Forester took over with Devens as Madelyn pulled James back toward the car.

“Are you okay?” she demanded breathlessly. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” James said, his whole body shaking. “Jesus, Madelyn, you just took that guy down.”

“Graham’s cryptid kit,” Madelyn said, waving toward it.

“Jim!” Uncle Tommy looked terrified, likely for the first time in James’s life. He grabbed James by the upper arms, the force making his bones creak. “Jimmy, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” James said, making no move to get away from his uncle’s grip and not caring if anyone saw. He wasn’t positive his legs were going to hold him up on their own right now. “He beat me up a little, but he didn’t shoot me. None of the kids saw anything, right?”

He was crushed in a hug so quickly that he didn’t realize it was happening. “Jesus Christ,” Uncle Tommy said from above him. “You are such a McManus. No, they’re inside.”

He finally let go and James looked over to Madelyn, who was still holding the taser. “You-”

She waved him off with a shaky hand. “I had the opportunity.”

Across the yard, Devens seemed not to be stunned anymore, but he was now handcuffed and in Forester’s grip. And the tough façade had crumbled. Now he was trembling with fear, face white. “Money or blood,” he repeated. “She told me money or blood.”

“You better hope you have money,” James said, body aching as he stepped toward them on legs he was a little more confident in now. “It’s not my blood that’s going to fulfill the deal.”

“I have the money,” Devens said desperately. “I have it, I have the money. But she’s going to ruin us, it’s everything we have. I sold my soul for this.”

James had been checking for blood on the back of his head, but he stopped and moved carefully toward the now immobile Devens. “Did you sign something?” he demanded. “Did you actually sign something promising anyone your soul?”

The fear seemed to melt away as Devens looked up at him with contempt. “It’s an expression, asshole,” Devens spat. 

“McManus,” Forester said. “How about you head inside, breathe for a minute, and consult with the family while I-”

James felt it again, that familiar, sickly sweet drip down his spine as a soft voice whispered in his ear. “It’s paid.”

Madelyn whipped around, nearly losing her balance. James caught her and locked eyes with Forester. He nodded and Forester turned to Devens. 

“It’s your lucky day,” he said.

“Why?”

“You had until this morning to pay, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“You paid.”

“She-”

“Left you and your family alive. Which is more than some people get. But you’re still in a world of trouble. Captain McManus, I repeat. Take your statement and your agent’s, then go inside and consult with the family. We’ll establish a plan once Mr. Devens here is situated.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Translation: what could the Foundation possibly do about this?

Forester smiled grimly behind his bushy beard. “There was a gun involved and Massachusetts law isn’t too fond of that. My connection with the Lancaster police is meeting us nearby.”

So apparently there was something the Foundation could do about some of the humans behind the magic, just not all of them. And not the worst of them. 

Uncle Tommy was at the edge of the property, gazing out toward the woods across the street. James walked over to him, the dried grass crunching beneath his feet. “She won’t be back,” Uncle Tommy said. “She got her money, she’s gone until the next desperate asshole hires her.”

“How do you know her?” James asked.

Uncle Tommy stayed where he was, looking out into the woods. Then he heaved a deep sigh. “Because I was a desperate asshole who hired her, a long time ago.”

James stayed where he was, waiting for Uncle Tommy to continue. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this story. “It was a couple years before the vampire thing out in Savoy,” Uncle Tommy said. “I don’t want to go into detail, but Mary – Aunt Mary – was being threatened by some things far out of our control. And no one would help. The family did what they could for us, but even your Gran… the human element was the real problem. So I found help, I begged her for it, and I paid a lot of money without Mary’s knowledge. And the problem was solved. I wasn’t sorry. But my mother kicked my ass when she heard. And it took me a long time to regain Mary’s trust.”

Uncle Tommy had never talked to James like this before. No matter how old he was, he’d always still talked to him like a kid. Right now, as he watched his uncle staring out into the trees, he knew this might never happen again.

And sure enough, Uncle Tommy turned and slapped him on the shoulder, nearly sending him back to the ground. “Alright, let’s get inside like your Foundation guy said.”

He started toward the house and was halfway there before James had even made his way back into the yard. Forester and Devens were gone and Madelyn was sitting on the front stairs. When he got there, James pulled her to her feet and they walked inside together.

---

CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 29