Page 73 of Welcome to Blackbird Hollow
And all of them have handguns trained on me.
“I’m honored you thought you’d need five agents to take down a pasty academic,” I find myself saying. My heart suddenly leaps into my throat, my blood pounding, as if my body has just realized I’m in danger.
She shrugs. “We thought the Hayes boy might be with you. Since you’ve grown soattached.”
That startles me further. “If you go near the Hayes family, I’ll fucking kill you,” I snarl, meaning every word of it. I lean into the butt of the rifle, wondering how many shots I can get off before an agent takes me down.
“We want you, Alice,” Not-Cookie says with a terrifying smile. “Your mind. Your talent. If you work for us, there will be no funding restrictions. You would have your own lab, your own team. We need to understand more about the Fey. You are uniquely positioned to help us do that. You can even stay in touch with your beloved little hedgeriders.”
My mind spins. “You had to corner me in a parking lot and point a bunch of guns at me just to offer me ajob?” I ask incredulously.
“You pointed a gun first,” Not-Cookie says, sliding her hands back into her pockets.
“That’s fair,” I grumble.
“And it’s not an offer,” she continues, stepping toward me, right up to the muzzle of my rifle, letting the metal pressagainst her suit jacket. Her heart is just beneath—if she has one. Up close, the woman who is not my grandma looks absolutelyunhinged—just as mad as the swarms of the Hunt did with Their mother-of-pearl teeth and bloodstained crowns. “It’s very sweet you think you have a choice.”
I’m too startled to even remember I could pull the trigger. But somewhere in the back of my head, my mind is running a thousand calculations. It would put all of Blackbird Hollow in danger if I killed a Sector agent. If we have a shootout in the parking lot. Would the violence draw the Hunt back to us? Or, even worse, the hellhounds?
“I’m not going anywhere with you, you insane bitch,” I laugh, glancing around at the other agents, who have unfortunately closed in on me, their faces expressionless.
“And who, exactly, is going to stop me from taking you?” Not-Cookie asks with a fake pout, her startling light-blue eyes sliding down to take in the rifle’s muzzle against her chest. “A ‘pasty academic’ who’s never killed anyone?”
“My boyfriend is right inside,” I spit, gesturing to the grocery store. “And he’ll absolutely fuck you up.”
Not-Cookie throws her head back and laughs as if that’s the most amusing thing she’s ever heard. “Stupid girl,” she sneers. “The Hayes don’t have the power to save you. They sure couldn’t save themselves back in New Big Sur.”
“The Hayes saved this wholetowntonight, asshole,” I reply, but my voice shakes as I flinch from the realization of just how much Sector knows about the people I love. I shift my weight, and the gravel crunches beneath my feet, loud as an explosion in the tense parking lot.
Not-Cookie leans away from my rifle, looking thoughtful. “Since you’re so sure,” she says, suddenly sly in a way that makes ice slink into my gut, “how about this? You come with us, no fuss, or we storm that grocery store, and then the Hayes house,and then whatever squalid little hovel they’ve holed up in, and we’ll see who comes out on top.”
My hands shake against the rifle. I feel like I might throw up. “You can’t do that,” I say, my gaze darting to the other agents, but all their expressions are cold, distant. “The Hedgerider Council?—”
“Those old have-beens?” She laughs, the sound becoming more like a howl. “They’re all the way across an ocean, Alice. What do you think they’ll really be able to do? Do you think we haven’t killed hedgeriders before? Wiped entire towns just like this one off the map?”
All at once, moving faster than a woman of her age should be able to, Not-Cookie grabs the muzzle of my rifle, shoving it to the side, and leans into my face. She’s so close, I can see the white outline of a scar under one eye.
“Come with us,” she snarls, “or you’ll see just how weak and useless a family like the Hayes really is.”
This time, I’m the one laughing. The sound of it surprises me, as does the way it comes bubbling up from my throat with a wild, reckless abandon. “For one last time, bitch,” I spit. “If you try to take me, you’ll find outexactlyhow terrifying the Hayes are.”
Chapter 32
Wyatt
Mrs. Cheng is chatting me up something fierce. Telling me all about how she likes the looks of Alice Blythe, that it’s time I settle down and get married, have a baby Hayes or ten. Sheactuallysuggests that Alice and I need to have at least ten babies, and it takes a whole mess of effort to keep from laughing. It’s best to take Mrs. Cheng seriously. She’s fierce as all get out, and I do actually value her opinion on most things. But ten babies sounds like a lot.
“It’s not as if you’d have to have them all at once,” she says with a sly smile as she places the bag with the s’mores supplies on the counter.
“You pulling my leg, Mrs. C?” I ask.
The woman reaches up, lifting onto her hot-pink tippy-toes, and pinches my cheek. “Every time I get the chance, kiddo.”
A lump forms in my throat. I pat her hand. “Thanks for that.”
She nods. There’s a faint sound of voices out back, so slight I might not have noticed them if Mrs. Cheng was playing her usual nineties alt-rock playlist. But tonight, it’s quiet, and I hear the tone, though not the words, and I don’t like it one bit. Mrs.Cheng hears them, too, and pulls what might be conservatively termed a bazooka from under the counter.
“Blackstone?” I ask.
