Page 58 of Sins of the Fathers
The black Corvette pulled up outside, and Angel barked like she would rip the newcomers apart. Dawson glanced at Denny. “You okay having federal agents in the house? Did you hide anything illegal?”
Denny shook his head. “As if I’d leave anything important out in plain view. Not like I’m going to offer them a tour. Just don’t take them into the basement. Or the root cellar. The attic’s off-limits, and so’s the office. Shit—don’t let them out of the living room.”
“Got it,” Dawson replied. “If they need to pee, we’ve got plenty of bushes.”
“Idiot,” Denny said fondly, giving Dawson a light slap upside the head.
Colt and Knox came into the kitchen. “Are those the feds?” Colt asked.
“Yep. Play nice. They’re here to help,” Dawson warned.
Gibson knocked at the door. Angel barked again but silenced at Denny’s command and trotted off to sit sullenly in her bed at the end of the room. Denny opened the door, and Gibson peered around the corner.
“Are we going to be dog meat?” he asked, in a tone that suggested he was only partly kidding.
“Not today—if you’re good.” Denny stepped back to let the two men enter.
“In case anyone here hasn’t met, these are Agents Gibson and Tucker. And this is my Uncle Denny, Grady’s brother Knox and his partner Colt—and Angel.” Dawson said.
“Angel?” Tucker asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
Angel heard her name and wagged, thumping her stubby tail against the cushion.
“Let’s eat, and then we can go into the living room and talk,” Denny said. “I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee if anyone wants some. We’ve got a rescue to plan.”
They helped themselves to bowls of homemade chili with all the toppings, along with plenty of chips and salsa, and a pitcher of iced tea. They made short work of eating, eager to get down to business.
Denny brought in an extra chair from the kitchen, and everyone found a seat in the next room. Angel slunk over to sit between Denny’s chair and the couch as if she wanted to be involved.
Outside, the wind lashed rain against the windows and howled across the chimney. Dawson wondered if the weather would help or hinder their efforts to find Grady.
Gibson cleared his throat. “The HDF and SPS activity is what initially brought us to the Kingston area. I’m well aware that usually law enforcement cedes coverage of the Cunanoon Mountain area to the Kings, but the domestic terrorist threat was deemed too large for us not to investigate.”
“Makes sense,” Denny replied with a shrug. “We were aware some crazy folks were out there, but not so many or that they were organized.”
“We didn’t expect that you would,” Tucker said. “That’s not what you’re focused on. So we stepped in, hoping it wouldn’t be as bad as we feared.”
“And instead, it’s worse,” Dawson guessed.
“’Fraid so,” Gibson answered. “I mentioned before that we originally thought the Syndicate might be behind the terrorists, but they’re not. The head vampire gave us his word, and while I don’t usually trust vamps, I think he was telling the truth.”
“He admitted that back in the day, he hadn’t been happy when Frank and his wife killed the rogue vampire behind the trafficking problem—especially by fire—but he realized that his fledgling had crossed too many lines to defend him,” Tucker picked up. “And having human authorities investigate the Syndicate would be much worse.”
“That rogue was Ophelia’s mentor,” Gibson added. “We confirmed that he didn’t turn her, but he did teach her magic. The vamp who tried to pick the trafficking back up years later—the one who killed your parents—” he added with a nod toward Dawson, “was her lover. We think Ophelia bound some kind of fire creature to do her bidding when she killed Frank Richardson and Ethan King, but that her control snapped, and she nearly died when it turned on her.”
“How powerful is she? What are we up against?” Denny asked.
“Ophelia has a history of stealing magic from other witches,” Gibson said. “We think she also gained power from her vampire colleagues, so it weakened her to lose them. After she blew up the plane, we’ve heard that she was badly injured. If she’s doing blood magic to regain power, then the Bushwhacker disappearances are probably a way for her to do that, either by draining the victims of life energy or sacrificing them to a dark entity.”
“Fuck,” Colt muttered. Dawson stayed silent as fear for Grady knotted in his belly.
“Sacrifice?” Knox repeated, looking like he might go into shock. “Humansacrifice? To what god?”
“Not to a god,” Tucker replied. “To the dark fae—the fae of the mounds.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? How could anyone be that stupid?” Denny exploded. “Rule number one—leave the fae alone!”
Tucker cringed a little at Denny’s outburst. “You’re not wrong,” the agent muttered.
