Page 45 of Atlas and the Traitor

Nevertheless, the casino chips were the best lead they had. They dialed in Mac, Robin described the van, then also told them about Lucy. Atlas had been convinced she and her husband were forced to cooperate the last time. Lucy believed in Nature’s cause, according Atlas. She believed in Pati and Pax. Perhaps she’d cooperate by choice with the other side.

All that said, even if this was Dyami, the casino seemed too obvious. They’d head to familiar territory, but not there exactly. “If they’re smart, they’ll stay off the main roads,” Robin said.

Jenn clutched his biceps, giving his arm a squeeze. “That’s why we need our best tracker on this.”

Thirty-One

It was midday before they found the van halfway down a ravine below the winding road from Pajaro to Matsun, the feline shifter from Club Sutro hanging dead in the front seat, pinned there not by the seat belt but by a crossbow bolt to the chest.

The occasional siren sounded from the elevated road overhead, the local sheriff’s department having blocked it off a mile in either direction, but down here, it was just Robin and Mac and a hovering guard of ravens, the terrain too steep for humans.

Unless you were a warlock who could snap into the perfect position. Except Atlas’s aim was off this time, his right foot landing on a clump of muddy soil that gave way under his heel. Robin tensed, ready to pounce, anything to stop Atlas from tumbling into the raging water below, but then Mac squawked an order and Robin’s coyote obeyed on instinct, freezing in place.

Another snap later, Atlas reappeared a couple inches over on a more stable incline. “Thanks for the assist,” he said to Mac before turning his cocky smirk on Robin.

Who was sorely tempted to pounce for an entirely different reason. While they’d exchanged texts over the past eighteen hours, Robin hadn’t heard his mate’s voice or seen him in the flesh since the Canyon Lands. When Robin had left him to face down a deadly, determined witch alone. To kill her, as his texts had flatly informed the team. He’d survived whatever skirmish had resulted in Karoline’s death, and now there he was, uninjured as far as Robin could tell.

Safe, relatively.

Like they needed to make Pax and Pati. The reasons they were there on the side of a mud-slick cliff, poking around an upside-down vehicle.

Atlas carefully bent to peer through the busted-out front windshield. “That’s definitely Cyrus’s handiwork.” He narrowed his eyes, head tilted. “Is that the cat from the club the other night?”

Robin nodded. In retrospect, seeing how methodically and brutally the shifter had dispatched his uncle and cousins, how he’d risked handling silver to do it, Robin regretted putting Jason in his crosshairs at the club. If he’d gotten one of Mary’s phoenixes killed... But it seemed the shifter hadn’t realized who or what Jason was. Didn’t matter now.

“Did you confirm Pati and Pax were in the van?”

Very carefully, Robin crossed in front of Atlas. Offering his hackles for balance and because he desperately needed the contact, Robin led him to the open back doors of the van. Inside was a baby bottle and Pax’s blanket, one of the quilted ones Mac’s mother had made.

Atlas conjured an orb and sent it slowly floating around the interior of the van. “No seats, no straps, nothing to hold on to,” he said, cataloguing the same observations he and Mac had made. “If they’d been in there when the van went over the rail, there’d be blood, hair... bodies. No one could survive that.”

The same conclusions too, especially given the one other piece of evidence Robin had to show him. They continued to carefully make their way to the driver’s side where Robin stuck his muzzle through the open window and pointed it down, the direction of the pedals.

To where a cinder block was wedged against the gas pedal.

Atlas took one look through the window and whistled low. “Well, I guess that answers that question.”

He didn’t waste time on the precarious footing, letting Robin guide him back to a relatively stable ledge of rock. He leaned back against the wall of dirt, and Robin leaned against his front, keeping him secure and taking the contact he needed.

Atlas allowed it, indulged him more by combing his fingers through his fur as he talked through the evidence. “So, Dyami puts the feline hunter and your cousin in touch. She gets word to him that they’re moving Pati and Pax, and he intercepts them.” Robin appreciated the detachment in Atlas’s summary and the acknowledgement of loss in his actions, a slow stroke over Robin’s head, a lingering moment of silence, before he picked the debrief back up. “The cat wasn’t actually headed for Nipomo.” Robin swung his head around, ear cocked back at this new bit of intel. “Dyami is a silent partner in another casino in Matsun.”

Matsun was halfway between YB and Nipomo. Close enough to both paranormal and human populations, far enough from the dangers of YB but still close enough to get in on the action while still drawing the more adventurous, rebellious humans from the South. “The shifter took the coastal road, occasionally detouring through the forests, towns, and missions to hide his trail, before cutting back through these mountains to the interior, on the way to Matsun, when Cyrus intercepted him.”

Robin barked in the direction of the last rest stop.

Atlas nodded. “That makes sense. He takes Pati and Pax at the rest stop, then takes out the cat and sets up this whole scene,” he said with a wave of his hand at the upside-down vehicle. “First things first, Mac, can you get the cat’s phone?”

The raven carefully glided inside the cab, then back out a moment later, device in his talons. He dropped it into Atlas’s hand, and after a quick flick of the warlock’s green magic over the screen, the phone was unlocked. Atlas’s fingers flew over the screen, typing out something. Robin put his muzzle on the inside of Atlas’s elbow, tugging the arm down so he could see.

“We’re going to let Dyami know the package was intercepted,” Atlas said, “By Robin. See if we can draw my brother out, once and for all.” That done, he tucked the stolen phone away and glanced back the direction of the rest stop. “As for Pati and Pax, Cyrus either subdued them at the rest stop. Or...”

Mac’s ominous croak put sound to the tingle of unease working its way up Robin’s spine.

“Or, Pati left with him voluntarily.”

Because she was afraid not to, Robin wondered, or a more concerning possibility, no doubt the cause of his and Mac’s unease, because Pati had been working with Cyrus all along.

Thirty-Two

---