The Rising by Kelley Armstrong

thought.”
    â€œSo tell us what we’re missing,” Daniel said, his voice low, calm. “Clue us in.”
    Ash shrugged. “Later. Maybe. Point is, she’s not going to help. She didn’t want her dad mixed up with the St. Clouds or their genetic projects. Blames them for his death.”
    â€œThey killed him?” I asked.
    He looked ready to shoot back a sarcastic response, then checked himself. “No. It was a heart attack. She blames them because he was working for them. Working both sides—employed by the Cabal, but helping some of the Project Phoenix parents. So she blames us, too, which is why she isn’t going to help. But she did decide it was her duty to pass on your email to me and tell me you phoned from a Vancouver number. She knew you were my sister. Acted like she was doing us a huge favor. She shouldn’t have been passing out your contact info without asking you. Like I said, dumb bitch.”
    â€œSo she told you I called, gave you the email address, and you decided to come meet me?”
    â€œYeah.”
    He was sitting there, barely able to look at me, barely able to speak without snapping at me, yet he’d dropped everything, paid God knows how much for a plane ticket, and crossed an international border to track me down. I didn’t know how to reconcile that. I would have been sure it was a trap except, if it was, he wouldn’t be nearly so pissy about the whole thing. He’d be all, “Hey, I’m your brother and I’m here to help.”
    â€œYou know Daniel’s a benandanti, and you know we’re supposed to be dead, and you know there are two Cabals after us. Did Mitchell’s daughter tell you that?”
    He snorted. “She didn’t tell me nothing. I already knew about the crash and the escape. There are a few parents out there who left Project Phoenix, like our mother. They’ve kept in contact with me. One of them contacted me after the crash. She had a Google alert on Salmon Creek. She told me—” The briefest hesitation. “She told me you were dead.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œThen I get this call from Sylvia Mitchell. So I made another call, to another parent, and found out you survived. This guy knew how to contact me, knew that I thought you were dead, and never even bothered to phone when he found out otherwise. Said it wouldn’t do any good. That I was better off thinking you were dead.”
    â€œNice,” Corey murmured. “So I’m guessing these parents aren’t going to be helping us anytime soon.”
    â€œYou guess right. The one who told me you were dead is okay but useless. Just wants to protect her daughter.” He paused. “Can’t blame her, I guess. The other guy is even less helpful, though he knows more. He has contacts. Won’t share them, though. Might endanger his kid. Cyril was in charge of this little network, but when he died, it just fell apart. He’s the only one who would have helped—or made them help.”
    â€œOkay,” Daniel said. “So who can we get help from? Your mother?”
    Ash snorted. “You know where to find her?”
    â€œUm, no, I thought you . . .” Daniel looked my way again.
    I cleared my throat. “I was told our mother separated us because the St. Clouds would be looking for twins. She left me at a hospital in Portland, but she kept you. Raised you.”
    â€œYou heard wrong.”
    â€œOh.” I paused. “So she aban—Left both of us?”
    â€œAbandoned. She abandoned both of us. You at the hospital as a baby, me with some so-called friends when I was five.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œYeah, oh . I haven’t seen her since and I don’t want to now. If you’re going after her, count me out. I’ll suggest you save yourself the trip, though. She doesn’t give a damn about either of us. Dumped us on strangers to save herself.”
    I sat