Chapter 169

#Chapter 169 – Mobilizing the Forces “Don’t give Alvin any details, please,” Evelyn says, considering her request that Ian contact his twin.

“Just…tell him we’re okay?”

Ian nods, closing his eyes and concentrating, a little frown on his face. Evelyn waits patiently, trying to keep even her breathing quiet, working hard not to interrupt.

A few minutes later, Ian opens his eyes, continuing to frown. “It’s…harder,” he says, thinking it over.

“Even harder than when we were far away. I guess it is grandpapa telling me not to. But it’s still there –

like talking to him underwater. We can send images and feelings, but…not words anymore.”

Evelyn nods, biting her lip. Not that Ian talking to Alvin was an important part of her strategy but…well.

It’s another resource not at their disposal.

“I send him a picture of you, just like this,” Ian says, putting out a finger to touch her face, indicating the blanket pulled up over their heads, “so he sees us now, but he won’t know where we are.”

Evelyn bites her lip at that. “Did he…did he see my black eye?”

“Oh,” Ian says, frowning, as if he just thought of it. “Yes, I’m sorry. That was part of the image, but I don’t really notice it anymore.”

Evelyn nods, accepting it. “It’s okay,” she says, giving him a smile.

“I also told him that we love him.” Ian says seriously, and Evelyn’s smile broadens.

“That was good of you,” she says. “I want him to know, every day, that I love him so much.”

“He sent a message back,” Ian says. “He says…he says he loves you too. And so does daddy. And that he’s sorry and is trying very hard to find you.”

Evelyn bites her lip at this, closing her eyes, trying to keep the pain off of her face.

She wants to believe it. So, so much.

At the dinner table, Alvin suddenly drops his fork.

Victor’s attention is immediately on him, though it takes Rafe and Bridgette a minute to notice that something is going on.

Alvin closes his eyes, almost holding his breath in concentration. Rafe opens his mouth to ask what’s happening, but Victor holds up his hand, a plea for silence.

A few minutes later, Alvin opens his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I’m talking to Ian,” he says quietly, his face tired. “But it is…harder. There is something in the way, blocking us.”

“Do you have any idea what it is?” Victor asks, “or any idea where they are?”

Alvin closes his eyes again. “Ian is sending me a picture, right now,” he says, very quiet. “It’s of mama…she’s under some blankets, smiling at him…”

Victor holds his breath, waiting for Alvin to continue, but Alvin just concentrates. After a moment, Victor can’t help himself. “Is she alright?” he whispers.

Alvin’s eyes open and he bites his lip. “She is happy,” he says, “but…she has a bruise on her face.

Around her eye.”

Victor’s whole body goes cold at this, his eyes narrowing in determination. Whoever hurt her – he’s going to kill them –

Alvin begins to say something else but then shuts his eyes again. “Ian is sending something else.

Just…just a feeling this time.”

A moment passes, everyone at the table perfectly still.

“Oh,” Alvin says, giving a little smile. “Ian is just telling me that they love me. That is nice.”

“Can you…” Victor says, hesitating. “Can you send a message back?”

Alvin nods. “I can try. It is harder – I don’t know what is happening to our connection…”

Victor nods. “Whatever you can do. But please, tell them that we love them too. That I’m looking for her, and that I’m sorry.”

Alvin nods and then, about a few minutes later, picks up his fork and starts eating again. Everyone at the table just stares at him.

He looks around, chewing his pot roast. “What?” he asks, confused.

“Did you…send it?” Bridgette asks, quietly.

“Oh, yeah!” Alvin says with a big smile and a shrug. “I think he got it. He’ll tell her.”

Victor slumps back in his chair, worried and relieved at once. It was good to know that she was safe, happy – but god damnit, where was she? And who had hit her?

“Alvin,” he says seriously. “Think closely about the image that he sent you. Do you have any clues that tell you where they were?”

Alvin bites his lip and looks away and Victor knows, instantly, that he does.

“Alvin,” Victor says seriously, turning his full formidable attention on his son. “Please. Tell me what you know.”

“Ian’s not supposed to…” Alvin says, pushing the food around on his plate with his fork. “Mama doesn’t want him to.”

There’s a pause at the table before Rafe speaks. “Well,” he says. “Did Ian tell you? Explicitly?”

Alvin darts his eyes at his uncle. “No,” Alvin says. “He didn’t.”

“But you know anyway,” Victor says quietly.

Slowly, Alvin nods.

“Then it’s not wrong to tell us,” Rafe says, his logic faulty but, perhaps, technically true. “Ian didn’t break his promise to your mother, but you’re just telling us what you’ve deduced.”

Alvin hesitates again but Victor leans forward.

“Please, Alvin,” he says quietly. “You know I’m not going to do anything bad with the information. I just want to help them, however I can.”

Nodding, Alvin turns his face up to meet his fathers. “Well,” he says, “when I was there before, mommy doesn’t know this, but we were allowed to look around the house before you came to get us…”

Victor nods, a knot beginning to form in his stomach. He starts to intuit himself where this is going.

“And grandmama showed us her old bedroom. And the blanket that mommy had over her head in the picture?” Alvin looks around at everyone, making sure they know what he’s talking about.

Victor nods once.

“Well,” Alvin says, looking back down at his plate. “It’s the same as the comforter that was on her bed.

When she was a little girl.”

“Walsh,” Victor says, his voice low.

Quickly, a little ashamed of himself, Alvin nods, conflicted about his choice to tell their location.

“You did the right thing, kid,” Rafe says, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Alvin just shrugs and stands up from the table. “I think I’m going to go upstairs,” he says, hanging his head a little.

“Okay, kid,” Victor says quietly. “I’ll come up in a little bit to see how you’re doing.”

Slowly, Alvin walks up the steps. When they hear the door close behind him, Rafe turns to Victor.

“Has anyone ever told you,” Rafe says, frowning a little. “That your kids are really weird?”

Victor just shoots him a derisive glance and gets up from his chair, starting to pace around the kitchen.

“So,” Bridgette says, hesitantly. “Evelyn is at her dad’s house?”

Victor nods slowly, starting to put the pieces of a plan together.

“Victor,” Rafe says, watching his brother pace, a hand on his chin. When Victor ignores him, Rafe tries again, this time his voice louder, sharper. “Victor!”

Victor’s head snaps up, meeting Rafe’s eyes.

“Let me help you, Victor,” Rafe says.

“Help me with what?” Victor replies, playing innocent.

Rafe narrows his eyes at him. “You’re planning an assault,” Rafe says, quietly considering him.

Victor twists his mouth to the side, saying nothing, starting to pace again. But Rafe just laughs at him.

“I know you, brother,” Rafe says, a grin on his face now. “You can’t resist two birds with one stone. This is the perfect opportunity to get Evelyn back and take Walsh out in one fell swoop.”

Victor gives his brother a glance, cursing internally. Damnit. His brother always could read his mind.

After a moment he gives in, turning to Rafe.

“So?” Victor says, leaning back against the counter and putting his hands in his pockets. “Do you have a problem with that? Think it’s not tricky or clever enough?”

Slowly, Rafe shakes his head, his grin growing. “Nope. I love it. I just want in.”

Victor just stares at his brother, considering it.

Is Rafe’s help worth the risk? Can he really trust him?