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Danny’s mother was gone.

The bedroom window was open. The curtains fluttered gently in the breeze. The sheets on the empty bed still held her body’s impression. He could still smell her perfume—the only lingering trace that she’d been there. Gustav ran to the window and looked outside. There was no sign of anyone. He closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, but felt no presence. Whoever had abducted her—if indeed she’d been abducted—was already gone. How could he have been so stupid? The policemen were only a distraction, keeping him occupied while Bedrik got his real target. But why was Bedrik interested in Danny’s mother? Gustav opened his eyes and turned back to the bed.

I have her, old man.

The voice inside his head belonged to Michael Bedrik.

Why, Gustav asked. She is not part of this.

Perhaps, but the boy most certainly is. And if either of you want to see her alive again, you’ll both be at the Gethsemane Cemetery at midnight. Don’t dally. Don’t be late. And come alone. Just the two of you. No one else. If I learn that you’ve informed anyone else, especially your precious Kwan, death will be the least of her worries. Every Hell I know I will make her suffer. Do I make myself clear?

Gustav didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he snapped off the telepathic link as easily as turning off an appliance. A slow smile spread across his face. Bedrik wanted Danny to accompany him to the graveyard.

That was perfect.

Gustav turned his attention back to the two dead bodies and the abandoned police car, intent on cleaning up all loose ends. He’d have to use magic, reluctant as he was to do so. It was the only way to make them disappear quickly and safely. Doing so would leave him taxed for tonight’s confrontation, but that was okay.

He knew where he could get more power.

789

The house felt wrong. That was the first thing Danny noticed when he burst through the door. His mother’s car was still in the driveway, but there was no sign of her or Gustav. The television blared to an empty living room. Phil Donahue was arguing with people who didn’t believe in paying child support. Danny switched the channel to The Transformers without even thinking about it, and then turned the volume down.

“Gustav?” he called. “Mom?”

There was no response. The furniture was all in place, the shades drawn, just as he’d left it that morning, but something still seemed…off.

He checked the bathroom, but the door was wide open and there was nobody inside. Trying to ignore the feeling of dread building inside of him, Danny made his way down the hall to his mother’s bedroom. It was empty. The window was open. Gnats buzzed into the room. He called out again, louder this time, but got no answer. Outside, the breeze shifted, making the curtains around the open window rustle. Danny sniffed the air. He smelled something pungent burning in the back yard. The barbeque grill? No, that didn’t make sense. After a moment, he realized what it was—burning hair.

He ran back down the hall, stepped through the sliding glass doors in the kitchen, and darted out onto the patio. Gustav was stooped over the grill, his back to Danny. He was muttering something under his breath, a phrase or spell, not in English or Russian but a language Danny had never heard before. The barbeque grill’s lid was closed, but thick, black smoke and flickers of orange flame shot out from beneath it. Danny’s eyes watered. Here was the source of the stench.

Gustav did not turn around. “One second, boy. Am almost finished.”

“What are you doing? Where’s my Mom? What’s burning in the—”

Gustav did not turn around. Instead of responding, He merely held up a hand for silence.