“Yes. Nice way to treat your own sister.”
“She’s alive, isn’t she?” Morgan said, unperturbed. “She’ll wake up tomorrow night with a headache.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I blurted.
A sigh. “You still don’t get it. It’s not your fault, really: you’re outclan, and a black witch on top of it. You don’t know any better.”
“Oh yeah, I’m clearly in the wrong on this whole drugging-and-kidnapping issue,” I said sarcastically.
“Lex.” Morgan was using the patronizing tone of a kindergarten teacher, which made me even angrier. “At some point you’re going to realize that there was never anything wrong with me. I’m just the only one not brainwashed by that scheming vampire bitch and her corpse-loving lackey. No offense, of course,” she added.
It was a near thing, but I held my temper. Yelling at Morgan could have consequences for Katia. “Tell me what you want.”
Her voice hardened. “All right. It’s very simple: bring Charlie to Wyoming.”
I blinked. “You think I’m going to deliver my four-year-old niece to you? Did you get brain damage?”
“I didn’t say bring her to me.” Morgan sounded impatient. “I said bring her to Wyoming. If she travels across the state line, she’ll break my mother’s ward. You can even pick up Katia while you’re here.”
Her tone suggested she was being very generous. “And then what will you do?” I asked.
“That’s not your concern,” she said primly. “But I told you once before: I have no interest in hurting children. I won’t lay a hand on Charlie; you have my word.”
I was too busy trying to think ahead to snort at the concept of Morgan’s word. “You’re going to crash your mother’s congress, aren’t you? Turn the witches against her? Or maybe you’ll try to find Maven during the day, when she’s vulnerable.” A worse thought occurred to me. “You’ve had your people following her, haven’t you? You think you already know where to find her.”
“Lex.” Her voice was sharp now. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. And what exactly is your loyalty to Maven, anyway? She can’t keep your niece safe—I’ve personally proven that for you. Twice. And she’s been neglecting you for months. What have you been doing lately? Errands?”
I took a step back toward the apartment. I was sure it had been silent, but Morgan seemed to read my mind. “If you tell Quinn or Maven, I will kill Katia,” she said. “I’ve been doing a little experimenting. I think I’ve figured out how to make a boundary witch stay dead.”
I froze, both from fear for Katia and paranoia for myself. Was she watching me? Could she have planted recording devices in the apartment?
Of course she could have. With a bunch of werewolves and several witches working for her, there wasn’t much she couldn’t get away with.
“You make some interesting points,” I said, my voice sounding strangled.
“Good,” she replied. “Now, I’ll leave Katia with one of my employees at the Depot in downtown Cheyenne. Nice and public. But you should know,” she added, “if you arrive without Charlie, I’ve taken steps to make sure you and Katia will both die.”
“Charlie’s not with me,” I said quickly. “I’ll need to go get her.”
A pause, like she was checking a watch. “It’s two thirty now. I’ll give you three hours. That’s more than enough time.”
“Wait—” I began.
“See you soon, Lex.”
And then she was gone.
I stood there for a long moment, completely still, my thoughts churning. I was absolutely certain of one thing: I was not going to get Charlie. She wouldn’t be involved in this in any way. But that meant I had to come up with another plan.
And I had no time to waste.
I marched back to Simon’s apartment. Quinn and Sybil were sitting at the kitchen table. Quinn had sliced the rest of the tape off the Pellar witch, and they were both sitting there with their hands folded.
I paused. They were awfully close to the door. I looked at Quinn. “Did you overhear that?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I couldn’t make out any words.”
I looked at Sybil. “Can you go sit with Lily, please?”
I was a little surprised when she quietly rose from her seat and went into Simon’s room without a word. My face was probably pretty scary at the moment.
“Lex?” Quinn said, looking worried. “What’s going on?”
I blew out a breath. “This part you can overhear.” I pulled out my own phone and called Maven.
She answered in a low voice. “Hello, Lex.”
“Maven,” I said, as clearly as possible, “I’m calling to resign.”
Quinn’s eyes widened, and he stood up and came over to me. In my ear, Maven said, “Excuse me?”
“Our deal is not working out,” I told her. “I quit.”
I enunciated very clearly. There was going to be no confusion about this.
Maven paused for a long moment, then said, “Of course, you can leave my employ whenever you want. But Charlie will no longer be under my protection. Nor will you.”
“To be fair,” I said, a little testily, “we haven’t been feeling a whole lot of protection lately.”
Quinn flinched. I might have gone a little too far, but it was too late to take it back.
Another pause from Maven, then: “All right, Lex. I release you from my employ. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Me too. “I ask you for one parting favor,” I said, accidentally picking up on her formal language. “May I please borrow your Jeep tonight? Just as a friendly gesture.”
Her voice had a touch more warmth as she replied, “Of course. No strings attached. Please return it to Magic Beans anytime tomorrow.”
I hung up the phone. Quinn immediately began to speak, but I held up my hand. “Don’t,” I warned.
“Why—” he began, but I threw my arms around him, hugging him tight. I breathed in his familiar scent, taking comfort in it. I didn’t say anything. If I told him what I was planning, he’d never let me leave alone. And Katia would die.
When I stepped back, his eyes were troubled. He wouldn’t look at me, and with a jolt I realized why: he was afraid I would press him.
I’d done it once before, under circumstances not so different from these . . . but I’d sworn that I never would again. My cheeks flared red with shame. I’d worried that I couldn’t trust him, but maybe he felt the exact same way.
“I wouldn’t,” I told him, my voice cracking. “I made a promise.”
Quinn finally risked a glance at me, his eyes sad. “And I know that it means nothing next to the promise you made Sam,” he said frankly. “You’d do anything to protect Charlie, and I don’t blame you. But if you quit Maven’s service . . .” He gave me a helpless look. “You’re sidelining me again.”
“This isn’t—that’s not—” I sputtered, but I knew he wasn’t wrong. All of a sudden Katia wasn’t the only person I could lose tonight. “Please,” I said at last. “Please, Quinn, trust me.”
I held up a hand to touch his face; he turned his head to plant a kiss on my palm. I could see what it was costing him, but he nodded. “All right,” he said at last. “Go.”
I started to turn away, stopped. “If you can get away tonight, please go watch that place we stopped earlier.” I gave him a pointed look and then sent my gaze around the room, to indicate that someone could be listening. “Or send Clara, if she recovers.”
To his credit, Quinn picked it up quickly and nodded. “I will.” He brushed my hair back from my face. “I love you.”
My throat seemed to close up, so I brushed a kiss across his lips and exchanged my personal cell phone for the Jeep keys on the table. I kept the burner Morgan had left for me.
On my way out the door, I heard Quinn’s cell phone start ringing, heard him answer it. “Hello, Maven.”
A couple of years earlier, Maven had paid a lot of money to get her Jeep tricked out. It had bullet-resistant windows, a lightproof storage area where vampires could hide during the day, and one other cool feature that most people didn’t know about: you could turn the GPS tracking on and off with the touch of a button. As soon as I got in the Jeep, I turned the tracking feature off. I couldn’t risk being followed.
I drove home first. The roads weren’t slick, so I went as fast as I dared, especially on the back roads. It was well after dark, but Simon, Lily, and I had cleared this route of ghosts. For better or worse, I was able to concentrate on what I needed to do.
At the cabin, the dogs immediately began their frantic chorus of barking. I waded through them and opened the back door, allowing them to race out into the fenced-in backyard. Then I hurried to my bedroom and dug through a pile of clothes until I found the backpack with my ghost-laying supplies. I tore things out of it, tossing them aside, until I found the encrypted walkie-talkie.
The walkie-talkies had a range of about fifty miles, more than enough to contact Simon out at the farm. I switched on the handset and found the button that made a single beep. I hit it three times very quickly, our code for “Anyone there?”
I waited for two minutes, all I could afford, and tried again. This time there was a crackle of static; then Simon’s voice exploded over the line. “About fucking time! This is Phoenix; what the hell’s going on?”
I almost cried. Suddenly code names didn’t seem so silly. “Phoenix, this is Griffin. Can you talk?”
“Can I talk? I’ve been sitting next to this thing in my room for the past two days!” I gave him a second, and he said in a calmer voice, “Yes, I’m alone.”
“Okay, listen, because I don’t have much time.” As I spoke, I stood up and began darting around my room, throwing stuff into the backpack. The first thing I grabbed was Valerya’s bloodstone, from the dish by the window where I kept my assorted crystals. It was on a cord, which I put over my head with one hand, settling the bloodstone against my chest. I immediately felt better. “Katia is in trouble. I know you guys have been trying to play fair with the witch clans, but I’m asking you to blow it all up and come help me.”
I held my breath. I could have given him more information, of course, or tried to plead my case, but I knew what I was asking. I wouldn’t manipulate him into it.
Simon paused for only a heartbeat before answering. “Tell me what you need.”
Chapter 35
“Well, that was satisfying,” Simon said half an hour later as he climbed into the Jeep. We were a quarter of a mile from the Pellar farmhouse, and he was a little breathless from running. He’d dressed in dark clothes and carried his favorite messenger bag, which functioned as sort of a witch emergency kit. He half stood to deposit a cardboard box on the back seat, and when he settled back down his coat pocket gaped enough for me to see the outline of a pistol. Jeez. He was ready for war.