13. Ava

The tracking spellled us to a modest single-story house, the kind that blends into suburban anonymity. There was a moving truck in the driveway and a teenager lugged a cardboard box toward the open front door.

”Hey there,” Drew called out, stepping toward him, his sheriff’s badge already in hand. ”Can we have a word?”

The kid looked up, puzzled, then glanced over at the woman by the truck, presumably his mom, as she hoisted a box labeled ”kitchen stuff”. She set it down and walked over, glancing to Drew”s badge, then to me, Ava, and back to her son.

”Is something wrong?” Her voice pitched with concern.

”Nothing to be worried about,” Drew assured her, though his stance remained official. ”May we come in for a moment?”

”Un, sure, I guess.” She wiped her hands on her jeans and led us inside. We settled into an unpacked living room, boxes stacked against walls.

The woman extended her hand, a half-smile on her face despite the worry rippling over her face. ”I”m Miranda Stewart, and this is my son, Liam.”

”Nice to meet you both,” I said, shaking her hand briefly.

”Liam, say hello,” Mrs. Stewart nudged.

”Hi,” he muttered, not fully meeting our gaze.

Drew cleared his throat. ”When did you move to Shipton?”

”About a week ago,” she replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. ”But I”ve been back in New York until last night. I had to finish clearing out our old place. Liam held down the fort here. We started unpacking early this morning.”

It was still early in my book, but I nodded, piecing together the timeline in my head. With her gone, Liam”s unchecked magic must have been what led us here.

Drew discreetly pulled out his phone, typed something quickly, and then tilted the screen toward me.

I don”t think she has any idea. She is fully human.

”Mind if I ask why Shipton?” Drew”s tone was casual.

”A job opened up,” she answered, patting Liam”s knee. ”Third-grade teacher at the local elementary school. Couldn”t pass it up.”

”Must”ve been tough leaving your old school, huh?” I directed at Liam, who just shrugged without looking up.

”Liam is a wonderful boy,” Mrs. Stewart continued. ”He’s always been so grounded and well-behaved. I can”t imagine why the police would need to speak with him.”

I couldn’t let the poor woman suffer and wonder. ”Mrs. Stewart, I want to be clear—Liam isn”t in any trouble with us,” I said, trying to soften the worry on her face. ”Nothing weird has been happening around the house, has it?” I watched her closely.

She glanced away briefly before shaking her head. ”No, nothing. Just the usual moving mess.”

I reached into my pocket, pulling out the truth stone, and handed it to her. ”Here, please hold this for a second.”

Reluctantly, she took the stone from me. Her eyes darted between the smooth rock and my face, confusion clear in her gaze.

”Any odd occurrences at all?” I pressed once more with the truth stone now in her possession.

”No, I told you. Just boxes everywhere.” She gestured towards the mountains of cardboard that cluttered the living room.

I took the stone from her and turned to Liam, who was eyeing it warily. ”Your turn, hold this, please,” I said as I extended it toward him. He hesitated, giving me a look that screamed his discomfort.

”Come on, it”s just a rock,” I encouraged gently. But he knew it wasn’t just an ordinary stone. His hand shook slightly as he finally let me place the stone in his palm.

”Anything strange been going on?” I asked again.

The stone”s weight seemed to change in Liam”s hand as met me stare. And then, the dam broke. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

”Everything”s just been... it”s all crazy,” he stammered, his words muffled by the hand he”d clapped over his mouth. Mrs. Stewart pulled him into an embrace, her own face a mask of horror and confusion.

”Like what?” I asked, trying to keep my tone even.

”Strange stuff... everywhere I go.” He choked on his tears, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. ”That guy yesterday, the one who turned into a gorilla... you were there. You said it was a stunt.”

I grimaced. ”I”m sorry, Liam, but I think deep down, you know why these things are happening.”

He shook his head desperately, disbelief written across his features. ”I have no idea. But it”s not only when I”m out. At home too. Things float, glow, catch fire...” he trailed off, and he looked at me with wide, pleading eyes. ”I put them out with water. Last night, I—I thought I was flying.”

”Floating?” I echoed, my heart aching for the bewildered kid.

”Yeah, but I really did almost fly,” he whispered, barely audible.

Liam”s hand shook in mine as I wrapped my fingers around his, pressing the cool surface of the truth stone against his palm. ”It”s not crazy,” I assured him, meeting his tear-filled gaze with a steady one of my own. ”You’re not crazy. I promise you”re not losing your mind.”

Drew leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his deep voice calm and grounded. ”Son, you are a nephilim. Do you know what that is?”

”Ha!” The laugh burst from Mrs. Stewart like air from a popped balloon. ”Nephilim? That”s crazy talk. Nephilim are from mythology, from fiction.”

Liam glanced between Drew and his mother. ”What”s that?”

”Well,” she huffed, still holding her son close, ”in mythology, it”s the offspring of an angel and a human.” She shook her head in disbelief. ”But come on, you might as well be a vampire as a nephilim.”

Olivia let out an uneasy chuckle, glancing sideways at me. ”Well...”

Ignoring the tension, I focused on Liam. ”Look at this.” Concentrating, I summoned a small flame into my hand. It danced on my palm, casting a warm light across our faces.

Olivia whispered to Drew, leaning in close. ”Why wasn”t Liam pulled to the house when we did the silencing spell?”

”Probably because he”s not human,” Drew murmured back, watching the flame in my hand. ”Only humans were drawn in, and Mrs. Stewart was out of town.”

”Listen, I don”t know how you got fire in your hand, but my son is human because there”s nothing else but human,” Mrs. Stewart declared as she raised her hand to dismiss the idea.

Olivia tilted her head, a knowing look in her blue eyes. ”I think we need a bigger display.” With a casual flick of her wrist, she snapped her fingers. The boxes began to unpack themselves, objects floating, finding their places on shelves and in drawers with precise choreography.

Mrs. Stewart shot to her feet, her head whipping around as she tracked the movement of her belongings settling into their new home. Her mouth hung open. ”How in God”s green earth did you do that?”

”Magic,” Olivia stated simply, standing amidst the newly arranged living room. ”The same reason your son has been having all these things happen around him is because he is half angel.”

”Who is his father?” Drew asked directly.

The color rose in Mrs. Stewart”s cheeks, her gaze dropping to the floor. ”I”ve never hidden this from Liam,” she began, her voice softer now. ”His father was someone I met at a concert. We had a wild night and Liam was the wonderful product of that night.” She hesitated, her discomfort apparent. ”Unfortunately, I have no way of contacting him. I hate that for Liam, but I can”t hate that it happened because otherwise, I wouldn”t have had my son.”

Olivia nodded, an understanding glint in her gaze, while I watched mother and son, seeing secrets and revelations settle around them.

”Your father,” I said, looking at Liam then back to Mrs. Stewart, ”the man from the concert, he has to have been an angel.”

”Can you describe him?” Drew asked gently.

”Liam looks a lot like him,” Mrs. Stewart replied in a hushed tone as if she were talking about a sacred memory. ”His father was darker skinned than Liam, but they have the same eyes and hair. He had a similar build too, strong but slender.”

I nodded, taking in the information. The puzzle pieces didn”t quite fit yet. Angels weren”t my specialty, but I knew someone who would know. ”I don”t know which angel that could be,” I admitted. ”But I can ask around. Lucifer will know.”

”Lucifer?” Mrs. Stewart”s voice pitched higher, her eyes wide with disbelief.

”Long story,” I quipped.

”Mrs. Stewart, your son can”t continue to let his magic run wild,” I told her firmly. ”It”s not safe for him or others.”

”I have no idea how this is happening,” Liam muttered, looking down at his hands.

”We know some nephilim who can help you get a handle on it,” I assured him. ”Just stay home until we get back in touch. We”ll get you some help as soon as we can.”

”Is there somewhere he can learn to control it?” Mrs. Stewart asked.

”Actually, yes,” I said with a small smile. ”We have a school where magical children can learn about their abilities. And they teach math and other typical subjects too.”

”Magic and math, huh? Sounds kind of cool,” Liam said, a tentative smile breaking through his uncertainty. It was the first real sign of interest since we”d broken the news to him.

”If that”s what you want,” Drew added. ”We”ll start making arrangements. Just do us a favor and stay home until we can get you some help.”

While Liam nodded, Mrs. Stewart stood and wandered into the kitchen. A soft gasp escaped her lips. ”Even that”s all done?” She turned back to us, her gaze landing on Olivia with awe and confusion.

”Sometimes magic is really cool,” Olivia said with a casual shrug, as if tidying an entire house with a snap was just another day for her. It kind of was.

We exchanged goodbyes shortly after, stepping out into the brightness of the afternoon. Once outside, I looked at Drew and said, ”We should talk to Lucifer first.”

”Luci? Not the mayor?” Drew raised an eyebrow but didn”t protest.

”The mayor is nephilim, yeah, but he seemed pretty sure angels don”t walk among us,” I explained. ”Luci”s been around longer. He”ll have the answers.”

”All right, Luci it is then,” Drew agreed, and we headed off to find the one being who knew the ins and outs of heaven”s castaways better than anyone else in Shipton.