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"Kristof . . ." Thomas reached out again, his eyes glistening with tears.

"Yes, Dad, it's me. It's been me before, too. Three times I had your necromancer pass along a message. Three times I told you Savannah was my daughter. Three times you ignored me."

"I didn't think it was really--"

"You thought what you wanted. You always did. You still do. And as Eve and Sean both said, the time for that is past. Believe what you want about Savannah. I'm not here over that. I'm here to tell you to let her go. I know what your end game is, yours and Josef's, and I'm warning you not to make my son and daughter a part of that."

"Son?" Thomas looked over at Sean. "I would never threaten Sean--"

"I have two sons, Dad, a fact you tend to overlook. Bryce is sick. He needs help. He needs you to work with the Cortezes to stop these people and find a cure for what they've done to him, because what they've done is terrible, and it's only going to get worse."

"The Nasts don't work with the Cortezes," Josef said.

"Fine. Pursue these people on your own. But do not put on this farce of a trial to blackmail Benicio Cortez. Do not endanger my son's life so you can take advantage of this chaos to overthrow the Cortezes."

"We would never--"

"I know you, Josef. And I know you, too, Dad. I see what's happening here and--" He stopped short and glanced up. He scowled at the ceiling, then looked back at his father. "They can't hold the spell much longer. When is the last time you've heard of a ghost appearing to anyone but a necromancer, Dad?"

"I . . ."

"Ask Adam over there. It has happened, but the magic requires a thinning of the veil between the worlds. That veil has never been thinner than it is now. It is chaos over there. You cannot let it become chaos here, too, or that veil will rip and the world risks finding more than werewolves and witches in its midst."

He leaned over the table again. "Let Savannah go. Help Bryce. Fix this problem with or without the Cortezes, but do not add to the chaos. Whatever you do, do not add to it."

He cast another annoyed glance upward, and muttered, "I know, I know."

He walked back to Sean, bent and whispered to him. I sat down so I wouldn't eavesdrop. Then he came to me and knelt beside my chair.

"I wish I could stay and really fix this for you, Savannah."

"I know."

"It will be fixed. I'm giving them the chance to back down, but if they don't . . . I have information. Blackmail material. They will back down, one way or another."

I nodded.

"I love you. I hope you know that. I was wrong to ever try to take custody of you from Paige, and anything that happened as a result of that is my fault. Completely my fault." He gave me a kiss on the cheek that I swore I could feel. "You set me free, Savannah. As much as I wish I could be here for you and your brothers, you helped me leave all this and find your mother again. I will never regret that."

He stood and turned to Adam. "Take care of her."

Adam nodded. "I will."

He walked back to the place where he'd arrived. As he started to fade, he frowned suddenly, sharply looking over at the wall and saying, "What's that? Hold on. Something's coming--"

He disappeared.

Did the trial end after that? Of course not. But the tone changed. As the lawyers droned on, Thomas's attention turned inward, as if he wasn't listening at all.

Josef didn't give in so easily. Whatever grand scheme they'd cooked up, he wasn't surrendering it just because his dead brother asked. Or maybe he wasn't surrendering it precisely because Kristof had asked.

I'd seen what the family dynamics had done to my own brothers. Everything I'd heard about my father supported what I'd just seen--that he'd never favored either son. But maybe because of Thomas's obvious favoritism--or maybe because Sean was more likable--Bryce had suffered. He'd grown up resenting his brother, even though he loved him. That was the push-pull that tore at Bryce. He genuinely loved the brother he wanted to hate.

Josef had no such conflict. Any love he'd felt for his brother had withered since his death. Now Kristof was simply an obstacle to Josef's happiness, much the same as he might have been when they were boys.

So the trial proceeded. But it didn't proceed for long before there was yet another commotion in the hall.

"Good God," my inter-Cabal agency lawyer muttered. "Now what? Angel? Ghost? Hellhound?"

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