“Don’t let them take me to America.” Dan grabbed Jack’s sleeve. “They’ll make me watch NASCAR. I don’t want to watch NASCAR.”

“No one’s taking you anywhere.”

“Except you.” He released Jack and pointed at Charlie. “And her.”

He had a point. “If you stay with us, you’re safe.”

“From the FBI?”

“Yes.”

Dan folded his arms although it wasn’t a particularly definitive gesture given the bulk of three coats and whatever he had on under them. Dirt cracked and flaked off the outermost layer with the movement. “Then I want my stuff.”

“I’ll get it.” Jack bounded to his feet, wings visible on his shadow. “The aunties—not Auntie Gwen, but the rest—are on their way up from the parking lot.”

“And I want Chinese food. Noodles!” he added, squinting against the backwash as Jack left the ground. “Not rice!”

Charlie could hear Auntie Carmen complaining about her shoes as she climbed.

“Charlotte Marie Gale.” Auntie Bea’s voice carried. Charlie gouged a quick charm in the dirt and stepped over it, putting the charm between her and Dan. As long as he stayed put, he wouldn’t hear what the aunties had to say. Better safe than sorry was a given around the aunties. “It isn’t enough Alysha brings in strays,” Auntie Bea continued, “now you have to start? Is that him?”

“No, I’m standing in front of a random vagrant.”

“And I doubt it’s the first time.” An arm’s length away, Auntie Bea mirrored Charlie’s position; feet planted a shoulder’s width apart, hands in her pockets. It might have been a sign of respect, but Charlie suspected mockery. “You’re sure he’s hearing actual thoughts?”

“Positive.”

“Well, that’s not something we want wandering around. Particularly not now he’s gained some notoriety. You say you’ve blocked what’s coming in?”

“I’ve blocked most of it. I can’t block it all and still leave him functional.”

“Of course you can’t.” Auntie Bea sighed. “I miss the old days.”

Auntie Trisha leaned out to peer around Charlie at Dan, one hand patting her hair back into place, the curves of her cheeks a windblown pink. “I think it’s fascinating that he knows what people are thinking.”

“Really?” Auntie Bea pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’re thinking Gwen got the Leprechaun, you should be able to have this one.”

Unrepentant, Auntie Trisha smiled. “He’s not bad looking under the dirt.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Waving off her answer, Auntie Bea muttered, “Never mind, I don’t care.”

“Have you determined why he’s wanted by the FBI?” Auntie Carmen asked.

Charlie shrugged. “Does it matter?”