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He murmured something, presumably to whoever else was in the room. A moment later, three people came out. I recognized two from when I'd been held captive. The third--a dapper man in his fifties--was a stranger. He stopped and gave us the once-over.
"My dears," he said, extending a hand. "May I be the first to welcome you to the cause." He turned to the doorway. "Giles? If you need someone to show these lovely young ladies around . . ."
"I have better uses for your time, Gord," Giles said dryly, still from the next room. "I'll see you as soon as I'm done here."
They left. Severin held the door and waved Mom inside. I followed. The door closed behind us, Severin and Sierra staying in the hall.
At first I didn't see Giles. Then I spotted him at a table, papers strewn before him. He rose and stepped toward us, hand extended, a welcoming smile on his lips.
Giles Reyes. Or, if the stories were correct, Gilles de Rais--a French nobleman who'd ridden with Joan of Arc. That military service was not, however, what put de Rais in the history books. He was tried and convicted in the deaths of at least forty children. I knew the stories of what he did to those children. I won't repeat them. It is enough to say that now, seeing him for the first time since I'd heard whom he claimed to be, the first thought to enter my mind was I could kill him. If I could manage to touch him without throwing up. And that's if I could kill him at all. He claimed to be immortal, and we had Cassandra DuCharme's eyewitness account of him seventy years ago to support that claim.
All I could do was try to see him as the man I remembered--Giles, leader of SLAM, nothing more. Just a well-dressed guy in his thirties, bearded, dark-haired and dark-eyed.
"You're clearing out?" Mom said. "Can't say I blame you. I heard about the lab."
His eyes darkened, annoyance creasing the corners of his mouth. "Well, we're making some changes at least. You say you have information for me?"
His gaze moved back to his papers, as if he'd already decided that nothing we could tell him would be worth his undivided attention.
I answered before Mom could. I'd spent enough time with Giles to understand the man a little. He could play the friendly, unflappable leader, but poking him, as Mom had, was like prodding a resting cobra.
"We do, sir. I'm sorry we've come at such a bad time, but we do think this is important. Do you know Toby White and Shawn Roberts?"
"I have . . . worked with Mr. White. My sources suggest Mr. Roberts is a supernatural who doesn't believe in my cause. I suspect you're here to confirm that?"
"Roberts was part of a group who hijacked your arrangement with Jackie Medina. They planned to teach supernaturals that revealing themselves is a very bad idea."
Now I had his full attention. He motioned for us to sit. I told him a little more about the anti-reveal movement. No additional names or details--I didn't care if they were idiots, I wasn't siccing this psycho on them.
"Sierra mentioned something about a police station?" he said when I finished. "I'm afraid I haven't heard anything about this incident. What can you tell me?"
I reiterated pretty much exactly what Lucas had said was on the ne
ws. Then I said, "One of the bodies found was Shawn Roberts. He hasn't been identified yet, but he was there. So was Jackie Medina."
"It was that station?" He pushed to his feet. "Sierra!"
She opened the door.
"Why wasn't I told that Jacquelyn Medina's police station was in the news?"
"Jacquelyn . . . ? Officer Medina? We weren't aware it was hers, sir. That's not an excuse, I know. We'll get someone investigating immediately."
"Yes, you will."
She closed the door.
Giles turned back to us. "What more can you tell me?"
"We also thought you should know about Toby White. He's been picked up by a Cabal."
Giles's mouth closed in a firm line, as if he was fighting to keep from venting his frustration on us. First members of the interracial council blow up his lab. Then this anti-reveal movement takes out a police station under his control. Now the Cabals were in town, snatching up supernaturals. It had to feel like he was getting it from all sides. I knew how he felt.
"Which Cabal is responsible?" he asked.
"I heard only that he was picked up before the police station incident even hit the news, meaning one of the Cabals knew about it and may have been responsible for making sure it wasn't even bigger news."
"Sierra!" he called again, bellowing now.
