“You got it, babe,” he said with a reassuring smile. “However, my guess is they expected at least part of their trap on the murder victim to touch you. They didn’t count on Ryan being such a badass and tackling you away from it in time.”

Grinning, I looked over at Ryan who was still on his phone. “I’m a seriously lucky bitch.” I returned my attention to Zack, caught his sleeve, and pulled him in close. “What does ‘gheztak ru eehn’ mean?” I murmured.

He answered softly, “Roughly, ‘the devastating failure.’”

I frowned. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Ryan hung up and came over to us. “Got something. Idris was on a cell phone registered to Russell Dobry of Austin, Texas. Best guess based on changing cell towers is that he’s thirty to forty miles north of Austin on US 183 in a northwest-bound vehicle. I wanted you to talk as long as possible to see if the tower switched again. The phone is off now.”

“Northwest of Austin.” I tugged a hand through my hair. “Heading where? New Mexico? Utah? The local fucking diner?” I let out an unintelligible word in frustration.

Ryan grimaced in sympathy. “There are a lot of possible destinations. What did you get from the call?”

“He’s either rolled over, been manipulated, or is playing a tight game with his captors,” I said. “I can’t see him going over willingly to them. However, he also said he’s ‘seen some stuff’ in the past month and implied that it changed his perspective, so I’m putting turncoating on the back burner but not eliminating it. He also let slip that Katashi’s on Earth now, but I don’t know if he meant to do so.”

“You got a recording?” Ryan asked.

“Most of the call,” I said. “I’ll go over it to see what I can pick up.” I pressed my hands to my eyes, forced myself to think through it logically. “If his heart is still on our side, he’d have tried to get some info into the call that could help us. There were others there with him, so it’d be cryptic.” I dropped my hands, inhaled a ragged breath. “Here’s what I know. He’s around Katashi’s people for sure because he knew Katashi was here on Earth and knew about Tsuneo and Tito being at the warehouse. He said he cares about Mzatal and me and doesn’t want to see us hurt, said we will be if we go after him. Claims that bad stuff will happen if we find him, but didn’t elaborate.”

Ryan frowned. “Why let Idris talk to you at all? Why not just call and say . . . that name?”

“I don’t know. There has to be more to it.” I started pacing again. “Whatever Katashi and his peeps are, stupid ain’t one of them. Maybe a combination of small components.” I shrugged. “Like, I’m pretty sure Idris really did want to talk to me. The captors placating their captive. And maybe they needed some time with me on the phone to build up to the whammy.” I gave a helpless shrug. “I’m grasping at straws, but they had to know there was a chance we’d trace the call. So why weren’t they concerned about that?”

“Either they want us to know where they are,” Ryan said, “or it doesn’t matter because they don’t think we can find them, even with a trace.”

I nodded, way too tired to get my brain to digest it properly. “That phone was most likely stolen. Can you find out when and where the last call was made on it? That might give us another clue.”

“Sure thing,” he said, then laid his hand on my arm. “There’s not much we can do tonight. Why don’t you go grab some sleep and get a fresh start in the morning.”

I started to protest, to tell him Idris was out there somewhere right now in Texas and we had to do something. Ryan’s hand tightened slightly on my arm as though anticipating my response, and it was enough to stop the resistance. I let out a long exhale, slumped a little. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be a lot more useful once I’ve slept.” I rubbed my eyes. “I’m going to go curl up in bed, but I’ll listen to the recording a few times before I go to sleep. I can do that much.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

Zack handed the recorder to me. “I made a copy and erased the command word part. You don’t need to hear that again.”

I gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. Y’all try not to blow the house up or anything while I sleep.”

Ryan gave a laugh. “Not making any promises on that one.”

I gave him a smile, then headed upstairs. I stopped by the living room, picked up the empty turd plate along with my note pad from atop the stack of Tracy’s journals, then stuck the plate in the dishwasher and trudged to the bedroom.

Fatigue held me firmly in its grip by the time I crawled into bed with the notepad and recorder. I wasn’t sure I’d make it through one listen, but I had to at least try. I owed Idris that much. I settled back in the pillows and started the recording.

“I care about you,” Idris said, “and I don’t want to see you or Lord Mzatal hurt.”

I squeezed my eyes shut against the fierce ache at the sound of his voice, familiar and dear.

“But if you find me, the shit’s going to hit the fan and people will get hurt.”

An image of him crystallized in my mind as I listened. Eager smile and keen blue-grey eyes beneath an unruly mop of blond curls. His words ran together like the distant rush of a river.

“You think you have everything figured out, then whoosh! the game changes.”

His voice cleared as though right by my ear. “You don’t want to start a fire you can’t put out.”

You don’t want to start a fire you can’t put out.

The room was cold. Achingly so. I needed a fire to counter the chill that knifed straight to my core. Shouldn’t be so cold this time of year. I could go turn up the heat, I thought dimly, but when I got out of bed to do so the room was pitch dark and the floor ice cold glass.

I wandered barefoot through darkness on an endless plain of smooth glass. Cold and black. Nothing. Forever. Step after frigid step.

“Dear one.” A voice. His voice. “Do not fret. It does not become you.”

“Lord Rhyzkahl?” I whispered, felt the darkness swallow the words. “Where are you?”

“I am here. I am always here.”

I looked down as a pale amber glow pierced the darkness. A beautiful filigree design of intricate fine lines glimmered on my upper chest with soft, breathtaking radiance. My throat tightened. “My lord? I do not understand.”

“Do you not, precious one?”

The glassy plain began to tilt. A voice like the hiss of sand flowing over stones whispered in my ear.

Rowan.

I cried out in shock as I lost my footing. “My lord!” Heart pounding, I flattened myself on the glass, braced with hands and feet to keep from sliding.

“Elinor. Elinor!” A different voice. Distant and desperate.

“Giovanni!” I called into the darkness. “I am lost! Help me!”

“Count, Elinor. Uno. Due. Tre. Quattro. Count.”

Rowan.

“Uno,” I said, then shrieked as the glass tilted more. Terror gripped me as I began to slide toward oblivion.

“Elinor!” he called. “Kara!”

Giovanni’s face swam in the darkness. Square jaw set with worry. Teasing smile gone. “Kara. Count.” His image distorted. Twisted. “Kara.”

“Due. Tre,” I said through gritted teeth. The glass leveled enough to stop my descent. “I’m here. Kara. Quattro. Cinque.”

Giovanni slipped away but other faces rose from the darkness to take his place.

Tessa. Jill. Zack. Mzatal. Ryan. Jekki. Eilahn.

People. My people.

My family.

I woke with a start, pulse stuttering as the fragments of the dream scattered. “People,” I gasped. “Family.” I scrabbled for the recorder, scanned through it, seeking the sentence. Found it, listened, then listened again.

“I care about you, and I don’t want to see you or Lord Mzatal hurt. But you find me, and the shit’s going to hit the fan and people will get hurt.”