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"Sir?" William said. "About breakfast? You have an early morning meeting."
"Reschedule it," Benicio snapped. When William turned to leave, he stopped him. "William, before you go, I'd like you to meet Paige--"
"The witch. We've met."
He didn't so much as glance my way. A line creased between Benicio's eyebrows and he rattled off something in Spanish. Now, my Spanish was pretty good, and Lucas had been helping me improve--if only so we could talk without Savannah listening in--but Benicio spoke too fast for my translation skills. I didn't need an interpreter, though, to guess that he was upbraiding William for his rudeness.
"And where is Carlos?" Benicio said, reverting to English. "He should be here to see his brother and meet Paige."
"Is it past four?" William said.
"Of course it is."
"Then Carlos isn't here. If you'll excuse me--"
Benicio turned away, as if William had already left. "Where was I? Yes. This other matter. I've convened a meeting in twenty minutes to provide you with all the details. Let's get Paige a cold drink and we'll head to the boardroom."
Familial Violence Insurance
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, LUCAS OPENED THE CONFERENCE room door for me. His eyes slanted a silent question my way. Did I want him to go first? I shook my head. Though I wasn't looking forward to confronting what I knew lay within that meeting room, I had to do it without hiding behind Lucas.
As I stepped inside, my gaze swept across the dozen or so faces within. Sorcerer, sorcerer, sorcerer...another sorcerer. Over three quarters of the men in the room were sorcerers. Each pair of eyes met mine. Chairs shuffled and voices murmured wordless noises of disapproval. The word "witch" snaked through the room on a chorused whisper of contempt. Every sorcerer in the room knew what I was without being told. One look in the eyes, and witch recognized sorcerer, sorcerer recognized witch, and the introduction rarely pleased either.
Benicio waved Lucas and me to two empty chairs next to the vacant head of the table.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said. "Thank you for staying late to join us. You all know my son Lucas."
The men within handshaking distance extended their hands. The rest offered spoken salutations. No one looked my way.
"This is Paige Winterbourne," Benicio continued. "As I'm sure most of you know, Paige's mother, Ruth, was Leader of the American Coven. Paige herself has been a member of the interracial council for several years, and I'm pleased to say, in that capacity, she has expressed an interest in the MacArthur case."
I held my breath waiting for some comment about my exile from the Coven or my embarrassingly short term as Leader. But Benicio said nothing. As much as he might dislike me, he wouldn't upset Lucas by insulting his girlfriend.
Benicio gestured toward a stocky man near the foot of the table. "Dennis Malone is our head of security. He's most familiar with the case, so I'll ask him to begin with an overview."
As Dennis explained, Dana MacArthur was indeed the daughter of a Cabal employee but not, as I'd assumed, of the Cabal witch. Like Savannah, Dana claimed supernatural blood from both parents, her father being a half-demon in Cortez Corporation sales. Randy MacArthur was currently overseas establishing a commercial foothold in the newly capitalist areas of Eastern Europe. Dana's mother was a witch named Lyndsay MacArthur. I'd hoped to recognize the name, but I didn't. Coven witches had little contact with non-Coven witches. Even my mother had only taken notice of outside witches when they'd caused trouble. One of the many things I'd wanted to change about the Coven, and now never would.
According to the background information Dennis provided, Dana's parents were divorced and she lived with her mother. Dennis mentioned that her mother lived in Macon, Georgia, and the attack had taken place in Atlanta, so I assumed Dana had been traveling or visiting friends. She'd apparently been out walking by herself around midnight--which seemed very strange for a fifteen-year-old girl, but I'd get an explanation later. The important thing was that during that walk, she'd cut through a park and been attacked.
"Where is Dana now?" I asked when Dennis finished.
"At the Marsh Clinic," Benicio said.
"That's a private hospital for Cabal employees," Lucas explained. "It's here in Miami."
"And her mother is with her?" I said.
Benicio shook his head. "Unfortunately, Ms. MacArthur has been...unable to come to Miami. We have every hope, though, that she'll change her mind."
"Change her mind? What's the problem? If she can't afford airfare, I'd certainly hope someone would--"
"We've offered her both commercial airfare and a flight on our private jet. Ms. MacArthur has some...concerns over air travel at this time."
At a noise from across the table, my gaze slid down the row of faces until it came to the youngest attendee, a sorcerer in his thirties. He met my gaze with a half-smirk. At a glare from Benicio, the smirk changed into a cough.
"Concerns over air travel," I said slowly, trying to wrap my head around the idea that a witch would let anything stop her from racing to her daughter's sickbed. "That's not unusual these days, I guess. A bus ticket might be--"
The smirking sorcerer cut in. "She doesn't want to come."
