“That sounds like something you’d want,” said Mom.
“It does, doesn’t it? I know it’s something she wants.” Mark jerked his chin toward the silent, furious Heloise. “But no. I’m here to help you stop this. I’m here because this needs to not happen. There’s one thing you need to do first, though, and it’s going to be hard.”
“What’s that?” asked Uncle Kevin.
Mark took a deep breath. “You’re going to need to trust me.”
Seventeen
“There are losses we don’t move past, no matter how hard we try. Some wounds, once inflicted, bleed forever underneath the skin. All we can do is learn to live with them.”
—Jonathan Healy
Back in the house, with two monsters in the barn, no big deal (very big deal)
THIS IS A BAD idea!” Mom was right up in Uncle Kevin’s face, shoulders locked, one finger jabbing at his chest like she thought she could poke him into seeing things her way. “We can’t let them go just because one of them is a good liar. Lying is what cuckoos do. You’d see that, if not for the part where you—”
She seemed to realize she was treading on dangerous ground and stopped herself mid-sentence. Not quickly enough; the damage was done.
“Which part, Janie? The part where I married a cuckoo’s daughter? The part where I welcomed my wife’s sister into my home? How much of this is about Sarah, and how much of it is about the part where you don’t want Artie to be in love with Sarah? You can marry an incubus, but God forbid the boy wants to date outside his species?”
Mom’s eyes went wide for a moment before narrowing into a menacing expression I knew all too well. “Kevin Alexander Price,” she said, grinding each word between her teeth before spitting it out, so his name became a condemnation, “I can’t believe you would say something like that to me. I can’t believe you would think that.”
“I can,” said Aunt Evie.
Antimony was suddenly at my elbow, grasping it and steering me away from the unsettling sight of our parents ripping into each other. I started to open my mouth. She shook her head, pulling me along to the kitchen, where James and Sam were waiting.
“You know the plan?” she asked, eyes on James.
He nodded, his still-damp hair sticking to his forehead and ears. “I’m good with intransigent parents,” he said. “Go save your cousin.”
Antimony nodded and started walking again, not letting go of me until we had reached the front door and slipped outside to the porch. Sam followed, easing the door shut again once we were all safely through. Annie let go of my elbow.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go get our cousin back.”
“What are you—we can’t go without them.” I gestured toward the house. “We don’t have the numbers to go up against a whole hive of cuckoos. It’ll be a bloodbath!”
“That’s why we’re picking up some reinforcements before we leave,” she said, and started across the lawn toward the barn, not looking back.
“Come on.” Sam clapped me on the shoulder with one massive hand. “She’s not going to wait for us, and I know you’ll be pissed if she goes running off to the rescue without you.”
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I said, and followed Annie.
She didn’t look back once as we walked to the barn and inside, to where Elsie and Dad were still standing watch over our two captive cuckoos. Elsie studied her nails, tucked the file into her purse, and stood.
“Took you long enough,” she said. “Dad owes me five bucks.”
“To be fair, I couldn’t estimate how long it would take Annie here to get tired of waiting for Artie to move,” said Dad, voice mild. He gave the can of Raid another shake, still aiming it directly at Heloise’s face. “You can’t have this one, kids. I’m sorry if your plan was depending on her, but I don’t trust her enough to let her up.”
“We only need one asshole for this extraction,” said Annie, producing a knife from inside her shirt . . .
. . . and using it to cut through the ropes holding Mark to the chair. I attempted to protest. All that came out was a garbled squeaking sound.
Mark stretched his arms over his head, grimacing. “You people don’t care much about chiropractic health when you’re tying someone down, do you?” he asked.
“What the hell, Annie?” I managed not to shout. I was pretty proud of myself for that.
“He’s going to lead us to Sarah,” said Annie. She made the knife disappear back into her clothing. “Relax, Artie. He can’t reach our minds through the charms we’re wearing, which means he can’t do anything to hurt us. Unless he knows how a gun works. And managed to get his hands on one, which, not going to happen.”
Mark laughed wryly. “My parents never allowed firearms in the house. Too much of a chance Cici would pick one up and manage to hurt somebody with it.”
“Your parents?” I asked. “I thought cuckoos always left their babies with host families.”
“Shut up,” hissed Heloise.
“I thought we had finally come to an agreement,” said Dad, and shook the can again before giving a small, warning squirt of pesticide in the air above her head. Heloise whimpered. She didn’t say anything else.
“You know, I gotta say, I’m really impressed with how terrible you people are,” said Mark. “I’ve been listening to Ingrid talk about her daughter the princess, and how she was going to make her a Queen and use her to destroy the world, for years. She never mentioned that the people raising her were genuinely awful. You hate us because we’re the competition, right?”
“We hate you because you’re dangerous predators who murder innocent people and make things worse for absolutely everyone, but thanks for playing.” Elsie stood, slinging her purse strap over her shoulder. “Dad, you’re cool with staying here, right?”
“Of course, pumpkin.” Dad gave his can another shake. “Your mother’s going to be furious when she realizes what’s happening. I’m hoping this little gift bag will keep her from getting too angry. It’s not every day you get a cuckoo to play with.”
“I’m not a toy,” snarled Heloise.
“Sort of are,” said Elsie. “Sort of turned yourself into one when you decided that a bad haircut and a pair of yoga pants meant you could pretend to be our cousin without getting in trouble for it. Because your friend is right: we’re not good people. We can’t afford to be. We’re one side of a three-sided war, and you’re the enemy.”