Oberon help me, I couldn’t risk that happening again.

Connor sighed. “Right. Well. Later, Toby.”

“Open roads,” I replied.

Treating Connor like that makes me feel low, but until he stops trying to get closer, I don’t have a choice. He’s married, and I have principles. I’m also smart enough to be afraid of his wife, which means I need to be even more careful about how close I am to him. Raysel strikes me as a serial killer waiting to happen. I don’t intend to be in front of her when it does.

The phone was ringing when I got home. I ignored it. I’m not normally fond of the answering machine, considering that Evening Winterrose used it to cast a binding spell on me from beyond the grave, but it has its uses. Taking calls I’m not in the mood to deal with falls into that category.

I was hanging my jacket when the machine picked up and Stacy’s half-hysterical voice poured from the speakers. “Toby, it’s me again. I’m sorry, I know I said I’d wait for you to call back, but I can’t wait, I can’t. Are you there? Please, oh, please be there—”

I vaulted the couch and ran down the hall to snatch the phone. “Stacy? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, thank O-Oberon you’re there,” she sobbed. “I was calling and calling, but you weren’t h-home …”

“What’s going on?” Stacy’s one of the calmest people I’ve ever met. She could look a dragon running rampant in a school zone in the eye and swat it on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. She doesn’t panic, ever.

“It’s Andrew and Jessie,” she whispered.

I froze. “What about them?”

“They’re gone.” Her voice quavered. “I went to check on the kids and make sure they’d slept through sunrise without any problems. Andy and Jessie weren’t there.”

Oh, root and branch. “When? What about Karen and Anthony?”