I looked around the room trying to determine where it was coming from before realizing it had to be inside the toilet’s tank. I twisted and lifted the solid lid and placed it on the floor. The second it was removed the vibrating became louder—clearer.
There was a ziplocked bag floating in the water. I removed the baggie and opened it up, taking out the phone that had been placed inside. It was rather simplistic. One of those disposables that people used in movies or to commit crimes. The number calling was unknown. Nothing shocking about that. Against my better judgement, I answered the call.
“Who is this?” I greeted, wasting no time on pleasantries.
“Your social skills are severely lacking.”
I immediately pulled the phone away from my ear to disconnect the call.
“If you hang up, she’s dead.”
I didn’t know if she was Morrigan or Selena, but it was probably better not to risk it.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Just you,” he replied casually.
“Ciaran,” I ground out, clenching the phone so tightly the plastic popped. “Guess I didn’t stab you hard enough.”
He laughed lowly, and the sound of something being zipped carried across the line. “Don’t be so melodramatic, puppet. You need me just as much as I need you.”
“I don’t need--.”
“I left a gift inside the shower. You’re in the only room with nothing on the inside. Keep it that way and don’t take anything out.”
What?
“What does that even mean?”
“You’re smart, baby-girl. Figure it out. When you’re done don’t try to make a path, just watch for the fireworks and I’ll see you at the carnival.”
“I’m not—motherfucker!” I growled, hearing the tell-tale beeps that signaled the call was ended. I stared at the phone for a minute and then looked around. Only room with nothing on the inside. Did that mean there wasn’t cameras in here?
“Lana?” Mel called through the door, bringing me out of my stupor.
I placed the phone face down on the toilet and jumped up.
“Are you okay?” she asked as soon as I opened the door.
“Where’s Grace?”
“Right here,” she answered for herself, wandering into the main bedroom still carrying the machete.
“Get in here, both of you.” I moved aside and ushered them inside the bathroom, closing the door behind Grace.
“What’s going on?” Mel questioned, her silver eyes going from the mirror to the phone.
I relayed everything that had just happened, walking over to the shower as I got to the part where Ciaran mentioned leaving a gift.
“So, he’s still helping you,” Mel stated.
“What?” I drew the shower curtain and then turned to face her.
She stuck her hip out and gave me a quizzical look. “You have realized that he’s been protecting you since this all started, right?”
“Melantha. He tried to choke me out less than twenty-four hours ago.”
“And for that I’ll have his balls. But think about it Lana. If Ciaran really wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
“We all would. Kyrous and his friends got us from point A to B,” Grace backed her up.
I quirked a brow. “Kyrous?”
She waved a hand dismissively, “You knew what I meant.”
I crossed my arms and eyed the two of them. It was hard to flat out deny that what they were saying didn’t make sense, but at the same time I refused to believe Ciaran was on my side.
“Then what about Charon faking his death? Some leviathan guy nearly slicing my face off? Or the fact that they’re actively pursuing us?”
“I don’t think that’s what they’re doing,” Grace replied flippantly.
“Everything you’re saying has merit, but so does the flip side. We don’t really know what they’re doing or where they fit into all of this do, we?” Mel asked, looking between the two of us.
I ran a hand through my hair to smooth it down, it’d fallen from its bun a while ago and now hung freely in a tangled mess.
“What’s in the shower?” Grace queried.
“A duffel bag.” I turned and knelt, pulling it closer to me so that I could open it up.
Mel and Grace both watched over my shoulder. In the main compartment there were bottles of water laid out on top of fresh clothes. Protein bars. A hairbrush. And beneath everything another silver frame.
I lifted it out, careful not to break the glass. This was the same exact picture from the cabin. This version was unaltered—I could see everything.
Standing alongside me and the girls were Ciaran, Maverick, Kyrous, and Charon.
“Lana?” Grace prodded. “What is it?”
She set her machete down and came closer, kneeling beside me.
I wanted to reply but I didn’t know how to begin explaining this. My hands became clammy the longer I stared.
My sister was pictured with us too. A guy that looked suspiciously like Ciaran had his arm draped around her shoulders. Adding even more strangeness to an already odd photo, I could now see that Selena was positively the redhead. Off to the far right, nearly out of the frame altogether were Dion and Morrigan—who I had zero recollection of. I didn’t recognize anyone else, though. They were just nameless strangers.