The Missing

with Grandpa while you go help Miss Taige. I don’t want to go to Ireland, though. Not yet. Not without you. It’s too far away.” She curled up against him and whispered, “I like Miss Taige. She’s always had the nicest voice.”

    “How do you know her voice, sweetie? You were asleep when Taige led me to you.”

    Jilly snuggled closer. “I heard her voice a lot. She talks to me in my dreams.”

    Apparently today was just going to be another very unsettling day, Cullen decided. Resting his chin on her head, he asked, “How long has she been doing that?”

    “Always.”

    Always. Cullen squeezed his eyes shut.

    “Daddy?”

    He opened his eyes and met Jilly’s level green gaze. “Yeah, baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

    “It’s going to be all right,” she said softly. She puckered up her lips and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “I see her sometimes in my sleep, but she looks happier. She’s so lonely, but she’s just been waiting for us.”

    “Waiting for us to what?”

    Jilly smiled once more and said simply, “To be her family.” Then her eyes darkened. “But you two have to stop him first.”

    THE sound of the doorbell came far too early, as far as Taige was concerned.

    She rolled out of bed with a groan and staggered to the door, grabbing a pair of jeans from the floor. Her weapon was still sheathed in its holster, slung over the bedpost at the foot of the bed. For some reason, she stumbled back to the bed and grabbed it. It took three tries to get the damn thing in place, and she almost didn’t mess with it. On her way to the door, whoever was at the door rang again. And again. And again.

    “What in the hell are you doing?” she grumbled. “Leaning on it?”

    She undid the locks without checking the Judas hole. Grumbling, she jerked the door open, something suitably cutting on the tip on her tongue. But when she saw who it was, the words froze in her throat. Son of a bitch. Without saying a word, she grabbed the door and went to slam it shut, but Leon reached out and caught it, then used his foot to wedge the door open.

    He gave her a pious look and produced a piece of paper from inside the somber black sport coat he wore. Though he wasn’t Methodist or Catholic, Leon Carson dressed more like a priest than anything else, all black, from head to toe, no matter the season, no matter the occasion. “We’re having our annual revival,” he said, his voice deep and serious. “Seeing as how you aren’t out practicing your evil on the innocent and the weak, I thought it would do you well to attend. Or are you still beyond salvation?”

    “Your idea of salvation?” she returned. “Absolutely.”

    He shoved the paper at her once more, and she flicked it a disinterested glance. “You wave that at me once more, Uncle, and I’ll make you eat it. I’m not coming to your revival.”

    “You don’t even care that you’re damning yourself to hell,” Leon stated.

    “Well, if you’re going to be in heaven, then I want no part of it.” With an irreverent smile, she added, “But I really don’t think you’re going anyplace other than hell yourself.”

    “Blasphemy,” he hissed, lifting a hand to shake a finger in her face.

    Taige was tempted to reach out and grab it, twist it just to see how much she could make him squirm before she either let him go or broke the bone. “It’s not blasphemy, Uncle. It’s a fact. If He welcomes you into the pearly gates, then everything I’ve been taught about God and Jesus is a lie, and whatever He offers, I don’t want it.” She glanced down at his foot and then gave him an angelic smile. “If you keep your foot there, you just might lose it.”

    Leon curled his lip in a patronizing sneer. “Are you so far gone that you’d threaten a man of God?”

    Taige’s own mouth curled into a sneer, but she suspected hers wasn’t so much patronizing as downright mean. Staring into his eyes, she drew her gun and without looking away from his eyes, she leveled it at his foot. “If you were a real man of God, Uncle, you and I wouldn’t be as we are. Would I threaten you? Absolutely. But here’s another question you should ask. Would I shoot you? Hell, yes.”

    Slowly, Leon retreated, and she noticed something she hadn’t noticed before: he’d aged. A lot. It seemed every single second of hate showed in his face, and hate had aged him far faster than time ever could. He didn’t seem as big as she remembered, but he was