didn’t fall. You were pulled! If you had fallen, half your bones would be broken!”
He shook his head. “Not necessarily. If my body had been completely limp on the way down, I’d stand a good chance of—”
“Shut up, Glen! How can you not remember?”
“I must have blacked out. I remember everything you said, except the bits I didn’t see, like, and I remember getting to your room and then waking up outside. I went back in, knocked on your door, but you were asleep—”
“I was not asleep.”
“Well, then you didn’t hear me, so I just went back to bed.”
“And, if that was you, you did not knock. You scraped.”
Glen’s frown deepened. “Why would I do that?”
“Amber,” said Milo, “you saw Varga, right? You’re sure it was him?”
“Positive.”
“Then we’ll go have a talk with our gracious host.”
She nodded. “Right. Good. Yeah.”
“I have a question,” said Glen. “What kind of a world is it we live in when a man will step between another man and the woman he obviously shares a deep connection and intense physical attraction with?”
“Are you talking about Veronica?” Milo asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.
“Yes, Milo, yes, I am.”
“She doesn’t like you, Glen.”
“That is a lie.”
“She said you reminded her of a startled meerkat.”
Glen went quiet for a moment. Then he responded with, “That makes very little sense.”
“Get up and get dressed,” said Amber, leaving the room. “And bring your bag down with you. We’re not staying here tonight.”
Glen grumbled, but when he was dressed Amber led the way downstairs.
“Well, hello there,” Ingrid said brightly when she saw them. Her eyes dipped to their bags. “Are you leaving us so soon? Did you have a good night?”
“Some of us had a better night than others,” said Glen, strolling over.
Ingrid looked concerned. “Oh, that’s a shame for some of you, then. Anything I can do to persuade you to stay?”
“Dunno,” said Glen. “Do you have a younger sister?”
Milo stepped sharply in front of him. “Could we speak with Mr Varga, please?”
Ingrid gave another one of her smiles. “I’m sorry, Mr Varga is out on business for the day. We’re expecting him back tonight, though, if that’s any use to you?”
“Sure,” said Milo. “We’ll talk to him then.”
“Wonderful,” said Ingrid. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thank you,” said Milo, handing over his key.
Amber and Glen did the same, and they walked out to the Charger without saying another word. They got in.
“I don’t like this town,” Amber said. “We’re leaving as soon as we get Gregory Buxton’s location.”
Glen nodded. “So we interrogate his mum. Force her to tell us where he is.”
She turned to him. “What?”
He blinked. “We … we don’t interrogate his mum?”
“She’s, like, a hundred!”
“She’s religious,” said Milo, starting the car. “Today’s Sunday. She’ll most likely be going to church. Which means she’ll be out of the house.”
“We break in!” said Glen. “We’re good at breaking into places! Although technically we didn’t break into the Springton Library, we just hid in the toilets, but the end result is the same.”
“Shut up,” Milo said calmly. “I’ll break in, search through her stuff. There has to be a postcard or a letter or an address book or something.”
“What’ll we do?” Glen asked.
“We’ll follow her,” said Amber. “Make sure she doesn’t come back early. If she does, we’ll delay her.”
“How?”
“You said that older women find you irresistible, right?”
Glen blanched. “You want me to … seduce her?”
Amber shrugged. “Only if you have to.”
They parked a few streets away from Althea Buxton’s house, and went walking. On their third time passing her street, they saw her emerging. Milo disappeared behind her house, and Amber and Glen followed her on the five-minute walk to the church.
Right before Amber stepped through the door, she wondered if she’d burst into flames the moment her foot touched the ground.
Thankfully, she didn’t.
They chose a space on a pew near the back, where they could keep an eye on Althea. Amber tried to remember the last time she’d been in a church. Had she ever been in one? Her parents had never bothered with it – surprise, surprise – and her school was pretty secular. Maybe all she’d seen of the inside of churches had been from movies and TV. She looked up at a statue of Christ on the cross, noting how much he must have worked out to get abs like that, and thought for the first time about praying.
Was God the answer? Up until recently, she’d never had to think about it before, but having been faced with the stark reality of demons and devils – she only had to look in the mirror for proof of that – maybe now was the time to start.
Would it help if she got down on her knees and prayed? She contemplated, for a moment, the idea of praying for her parents, praying that they’d see sense, that they’d recover from whatever madness had gripped them. But she dismissed the idea almost as quickly. She might as well wish for a happy childhood where they hadn’t ignored her.
“I don’t feel well,” Glen whispered. “I think I’ve got internal injuries.”
Would a priest be able to absolve her of her sins? Amber wondered what this priest would make of her horns. If she stepped into a confessional box and she told him the truth, the whole truth, and revealed herself in all her red-skinned glory, what would his reaction be? Would it shatter his faith, shake it loose, or renew it? Would he have an answer for her, or would he cast her from this holy place, cursing her existence and damning her in the eyes of his Lord?
Was she already damned in the eyes of his Lord?
Jesus
