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On the
jet, Clay called Elena again, to fill her in on the details. He didn't tell her about my damsel-in-distress routine. That wasn't his way. He just gave her his story, then put me on speakerphone to talk about Giles and the group.
They were concerned, of course. They were worried about the twins and Hope, but when it came to the big picture--the exposure risk--their primary concern was for the Pack first, friends second, greater supernatural world a very distant third. That's how werewolves think.
I asked if the twins were in Miami.
"No," Elena said. "Antonio and Nick took them to Europe with the boys."
By "boys" she meant eighteen-year-old Noah and twenty-two-year-old Reese, young werewolves the Sorrentinos had taken in last year. In other words, they'd gathered the younger generation and headed for higher, more defensible ground.
"If we need help, Nick and Reese will join us," Elena continued. "Antonio will stay behind with Noah and the twins."
Clay took the phone off speaker then, to talk to Elena alone. Karl sat by the window, looking out, paying no attention to either of us. I settled back, closed my eyes, and tried to sleep.
I didn't even get off the plane before Paige was on it, Lucas right behind her. The werewolves slid off quietly.
I looked at Paige and Lucas, so familiar that even seeing them made my chest ache. Made me want to curl up on the seat and start sobbing like a little girl, waiting to be comforted. Paige, nearly a foot shorter than me, her curves shown off in a sea-blue sundress, her dark curls pulled back, her face drawn in concern. Lucas looking even more somber than usual, tall and lean, his tie and glasses both uncharacteristically crooked as if he'd hurriedly pulled them on in the car.
As I stood to greet them, my whole body trembled. Even my voice wavered.
"So I guess Adam told you," I said.
Paige crossed the last few feet between us and hugged me, so tight she managed to squeeze out a couple of tears before I collapsed, chin resting on the top of her head, eyes closed.
"We're so proud of you," she whispered, her arms tightening around me. "I know that wasn't an easy decision to make. I know it wasn't a decision at all. Just an impulse. But it was a huge sacrifice. I don't know"--her voice caught--"I don't know if I could have done the same."
I hugged her back. "Believe me, I wouldn't have made the offer if I thought anyone would take me up on it."
"Don't be so sure," she whispered.
She let me go and wiped her cheeks as Lucas embraced me.
"We're going to fix this," he said. "Someone has directly contravened the laws of demonic bargaining. And when we find out who it was, there will be an accounting and the effects will be reversed."
"Can we sue for damages, too?"
A faint smile as he released me. "We'll see. First, though, we have no intention of waiting to discover who did this or why. I find it impossible to believe your spells have been completely bound. Thorough testing may reveal deficiencies in the procedure--loopholes that we can exploit and recover at least part of your powers as we pursue the guilty party. We'll need to do a complete accounting of spells and rituals--"
"Make a list," Paige said, taking my hand and starting to lead me off the plane. "We'll get to it later. Right now, this girl needs food and rest."
When we got into the hangar, Clay and Karl were there, along with Benicio, Hope, and a battalion of guards ringing the perimeter, trying to look inconspicuous.
I glanced past the guards and looked around. "Let me guess. Adam's already off on a mission without me. Didn't take him long."
I tried not to let my disappointment show. But as I looked across the faces and saw eyes dart away, I started to hope he had gone off without me, because the alternative--
"He must have missed our message," Paige said quickly, leading me toward the exit. "I should have called him directly. You know how he gets when he's up to his eyeballs in research."
So he was at Cabal headquarters, doing nothing more pressing than research.
"Hope? Karl?" Benicio said as we headed outside. "I'd like you to ride with Savannah and me. We need to discuss Jasper Haig."
The four of us took Benicio's SUV. His bodyguards--Troy and Griffin--rode up front, Troy pulling double-duty as chauffeur. The SUV had been modified so the middle seats could swing around to face the back ones.
Benicio spent the first few minutes fussing with Hope, making sure she had cold water and a snack, and that the air-conditioning was enough, but not too much. Typical Benicio. He knew that the way to win over Karl was through Hope. The one flaw in Benicio's plan? Karl was just as Machiavellian as Benicio, meaning he knew exactly what the old fox was doing and was unmoved by the fact that the most powerful man in our world was taking such great care of his wife. I don't think Hope bought it either, but at least she feigned appreciation for his efforts.
Hope looked tinier than ever, her brown skin sallow, makeup barely disguising the circles under her dark eyes, her black curls left loose around her face, as if they could hide her exhaustion. She was still gorgeous, though. Hope and Karl looked like they stepped off a movie screen. Bollywood meets James Bond.
