The Onyx Talisman by Brenda Pandos

scent, with the talisman, they couldn’t smell me. And I’d escaped before and they never followed me to Scotts Valley. But for my protection, Dad would insist I come with him to Tulsa. Somehow I had to convince him I was safe in Scotts Valley. Maybe if he knew about the talisman, he’d relax. I had to figure out something and quick.
    If I left Scotts Valley, I could quite possibly lose Nicholas forever.
     

Chapter Nine
    On the ride home the next day, I watched Dad like he was a lit piece of dynamite. With my iPhone, I tracked our location to make sure he wasn’t bolting for the airport and a flight to Oklahoma instead of home. He’d relaxed from the night before and his newfound calm scared me. What did his boss say on the phone exactly? Visions of the vamp protection guys dressed in black, snatching us out of our beds and stealing us away to Tulsa in the middle of the night riddled my thoughts. Would he do that to us without warning? He needed to be convinced beyond doubt there wasn’t a vamp problem in Scotts Valley. That we could live there and not be afraid—all with Phil’s excellent slaying skills of course.
    Once I deemed we were on our way home, I popped in my earbuds and plotted my future as weedy fields zoomed by. Not only were there concerns of moving, but Nicholas’ memories needed restoration, too. Yet again, something else I needed to beg Scarlett to help with. I could already hear her shutting me down, that he wasn’t crucial to the final plan, just like Katie and everything else I needed or wanted.
    For a quick moment, I peeked at Luke. He lay tucked in a ball on the back seat. I unblocked my feelings barrier just enough to see if he was improving, to slam it shut again before I lost my breakfast. Whatever racked his body fought with a vengeance against his immune system and didn’t fight fair. I had a date with huge doses of vitamin C once we got home.
    We finally hit Highway 1, cruising along the Pacific Ocean, and relief flooded me. Home. After this horrific and crazy weekend, we were finally home.
    Dad pulled into the garage and helped Luke get out of the car. I took the silent cue to unpack and remain invisible if at all possible. I’d successfully created a leaning tower of suitcases in the living room when Dad walked down the stairs.
    “I think Luke is finally improving,” he said and motioned toward the garage. “I need to show you something.”
    He walked over to the workbench and pulled out a key from his pocket to unlock one of the workbench drawers; one I never really noticed was locked in the past. He opened it up and reached deep inside. Suddenly, the table top next to the drawer folded down on itself to reveal a metal door on the floor underneath. It slid open and gave way to stairs going down into what looked like a basement.
    “What?” I asked breathlessly, my eyes practically bugging out of their sockets.
    “Come on.”
    Cement stairs led down to a lit room below the garage. I followed closely behind Dad as fear and curiosity bristled down my legs. Once we reached the ground floor, he pressed a button on the stairwell that closed the hatch above us.
    “What is this place?”
    “It’s my office,” Dad said with pride.
    My eyes scanned the humble room around us: an immaculately clean desk, black armchair, up-to-date computer, and lamp adorned the work area.
    Dad took a deep breath and swept out his hand. “Behold. My work for the past fifteen years.”
    He flicked another switch and my eyes were drawn to several sliding doors that revealed a patchwork quilt of papers and pictures covering every panel. After a moment of visually dissecting the hodgepodge, I realized I was looking at some sort of collection of people. Pictures, dates, whereabouts, and current status—living or dead—were clearly notated along with a number. One panel contained a giant map of the world and little pins with numbers were scattered across the continents.
    “Holy cannoli.” My throat