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"Yes," Bauer snapped, then turned to see Matasumi's assistant hovering in the doorway. "I'm sorry, Tess. What is it?"
"It's nearly four-thirty. Doctor Matasumi thought I should remind you--"
"Oh, yes. The conference call. I'm sorry. I'll be right with you. Could you please send the guards in to escort Leah back to her room?"
"Party's over," Leah said and chugged the rest of her wine.
After dinner, the voice I'd heard the night before called again. This time I was sure I was awake. Well, reasonably sure, at least. I still held out hopes that the whole wine and cheese party had been a nightmare.
"Who's there?" I said aloud.
"It's me, dear. Ruth."
I hurried to the hole I'd punched between my cell and the next, crouched, and peered through. No one was there.
"Where are you?" I asked.
"Across the hall. It's a ranged communication spell. You can speak to me normally and I'll hear you as if I were there in the room. Thank goodness I finally got in touch with you. I've been having the devil of a time. First the sedatives. Then the blocking field. Just when I figured out a way around that, they whisked me out of here because my white blood cell count was low. What do they expect at my age?"
"Blocking field?" I repeated.
"I'll explain. Sit down and make yourself comfortable, dear."
To ensure our privacy, Ruth cast a sensing spell that c
ould detect anyone in the corridor. Useful things, spells. Not my cup of tea, but far more practical than I would have imagined.
Our captors had taken Ruth around the same time Bauer and Xavier had trapped me, so she hadn't known I'd been kidnapped, which meant she didn't know whether Jeremy and Clay had returned to the others or even if they knew what had happened to me. When I told her I hadn't been able to contact Jeremy, she was surprised to the point of shock, not that we couldn't make contact, but that any werewolf had telepathic abilities. We all have our stereotypes, I guess. Witches equaled mental power, werewolves equaled physical power, and never the twain shall meet.
"What happened when you tried to contact him?" she asked.
"I can't do that," I said. "He's the one with the powers. I have to wait for him to make contact."
"Did you try?" she asked.
"I wouldn't know how."
"You should try. It's very simple. Relax and pretend--Never mind. It won't work anyway."
"Why won't it work?"
"They've put up a blocking field. Have you met their spell-caster?"
I shook my head, realized she couldn't see the motion and said, "No. I've heard of him, though. Katzen, I think they called him."
"Isaac Katzen?"
"You know him?"
"I know of him. He was with one of the Cabals, I believe. Oh dear, I hope they aren't involved. That would be the devil of a problem. Sorcerer Cabals are--" She stopped. "Sorry, dear. Spell-casting business. You don't need to know anything about that."
"What about this Katzen guy? Do I need to know anything about him? Bauer says I'm not likely to run into him. How'd she put it? He doesn't associate with 'lower races'?"
A short chuckle. "That is most definitely a sorcerer. No, dear, I shouldn't think you'd have to worry about Isaac Katzen. Sorcerers have little use for non-spell-casters. Little use for witches, too. Sorcerers aren't male witches. Completely different race. Nasty bunch, I'm sad to say. No sense of themselves as part of something greater. An absolute absence of altruism. They'd never dream of using their powers to help--" A sigh and a chuckle. "Stop digressing, Ruth. Age, you know. It's not that the mind starts to wander; it's that it's so stuffed full of information that it's forever jumping off track and zipping down tangents."
"I don't mind."
"Time, my dear. Time."
