“You used a gun,” Maven said abruptly.
I raised my eyebrows at her. “Was I not supposed to?”
She shook her head, hesitated, and shrugged. “I’d prefer that you didn’t use firearms in highly populated areas, because of the noise. But it’s more that we—that I—never even really think of using guns. I know Quinn has some, of course, but that’s because he’s such a recent vampire.” She smiled faintly. “For us old ones, it’s considered very . . . tacky.”
I snorted. I’d watched Maven reach into Itachi’s chest cavity and literally yank out his heart. Of course she didn’t need a gun. “Yeah, well, every one of you is faster, stronger, and has better reflexes than I do. I’m happy to be tacky if it means staying alive.” A new thought occurred to me. “Why didn’t you help me? When Tony almost had me, or when he was running away?”
“I wanted to see what you’d do,” she said frankly. “How you’d handle it.”
Ouch. It was the answer I’d expected, but it still kind of stung. Sensing my thoughts, Maven added, not unkindly, “I’m not running a charity, Lex. If you can’t handle one vampire I need you to press, you’re not much good to me.”
I didn’t let myself react to that; I also didn’t give myself any time to question the wisdom of what I was about to say. “Speaking of handling things, I need to borrow some money.”
That surprised her. As quickly as I could, I explained about the Las Vegas witch I needed to consult. “It might not even work, honestly, given that she would be using her magic on mine. But Simon and Hazel think there’s a chance,” I finished.
Maven took in all the information, motionless as she listened to me. “Okay,” she said eventually. “Call Ryan first thing and have him set up her travel. On me. I’ll leave a note so he knows you have my approval.” Before I could thank her, she rose in her seat so she could watch Quinn press a witness. My eyes followed hers. He was talking to the last person. I checked my watch. Almost ten. It felt like about four in the morning.
“Do you need me to help with . . .” I gestured at the bloody bar around us. “Cleanup?”
Maven chuckled. “Go home, Lex. I know you’ve had a busy day, and tomorrow may shape up to be similar. Get some rest while you can.”
I began to stand, but there was something else that needed to be said aloud. “It’s related, isn’t it?” I ventured. “To the werewolves, and maybe even Simon’s pellet thing.”
“That,” Maven said in a strange, hollow voice, “is exactly what I’m afraid of.”
I retrieved my car from the lot and started toward the cabin, but after a moment of thought, I texted John and asked if I could drop by for a minute. I was really asking if he was alone—John had recently indicated that he was seeing someone, although I had no idea if it was serious. But he texted Yes back almost immediately.
I drove straight to John’s suburban house off Kings Ridge Boulevard, one of the nicer areas in Boulder.
He was waiting by his front door, so I didn’t even have to ring the bell before he swung it open. John was half Native American, with strong features and lustrous black hair that stood up in tufts whenever he was tired, like he was now. Working all day and being a single parent all night had to be exhausting. “I know this is weird,” I said by way of hello. “But I just kind of wanted to see Charlie.”
A smile broke over his face, and I felt a familiar twinge in my chest. John and I had been in love with each other for about five minutes in high school, back when everyone called me Allie, before I’d decided that I needed to serve my country. That girl had died a long time ago, though, and I’d come home from the war a different person, with a new name. While I was gone, John and Sam had grown toward each other, building something between them that eventually turned into a marriage.
I didn’t think I would ever see John without feeling a tiny sting of what-could-have-been, but he and I had missed our chance, and that was that. Neither of us would ever let our history or any other awkwardness keep me from having a relationship with Sam’s daughter.
“It’s not weird at all,” he assured me, stepping aside so I could come in. Then he frowned down at my clothes. “Were you painting something?”
I glanced down. I’d left the jacket in the car and zipped on a hooded sweatshirt, but you could still see a few dark stains on my jeans. “Uh, yeah, the back room at work.”
He nodded, accepting my explanation without question, and I felt another stab of guilt for lying to one of the few people in the world who trusted me completely. “You know the way,” he said, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.
John’s house was always messy, mostly due to Charlie’s burgeoning sideline in destruction, but we were family, so he didn’t bother apologizing for it. I removed my shoes, picked through the minefield of toys on the staircase, and tiptoed into Charlie’s bedroom, opening the door slowly so it wouldn’t creak. A pink mushroom-shaped nightlight shone above the crib, and I smiled down at my niece. She had kicked off her covers again, but she was dressed warmly in little polar-fleece pajamas with ladybugs on them. I leaned my forearms on the rail of the crib, drinking in the sight of her. I felt a great peace inside myself, which I knew came partly from knowing she was safe, and partly from the fact that my proximity to her was canceling out my connection to death magic. Around Charlie, I actually was the normal human woman I’d always thought myself to be.