He felt some of the blood drain from his face. EJ had known that, but not put it together with demons. “And?”
“And…And I have a piece. It’s embedded beneath the blue tigereye on the staff.”
“Holy shit, Ange.”
“Hush. There could be another one close by, and you don’t want to die from explosive pooing.”
Cursing was out for now, except words that had no power, likehell’s hounds, orson of a witch on a switch, for everyone with any sense, as words had power to strengthen some EEB’s evil. Succubi and incubi, especially, could—and did—use sex cursing to their advantage. EJ had been too loose with his language, especially after aBeshad been released. He had to check his expletives. They all did.
She returned to their discussion. “I was a kid. I took things I wanted. Pretty things.” She had the grace to look shamed. “And I took a small piece of her Glob that I found in her jewelry case. During the war, when the military took you, I started experimenting. In case you got in trouble, and I had to come get you.”
“Angie…” He blinked, tears he hadn’t experienced in ages stinging his eyes.
“I know. I’m in trouble. But we have more stuff to worry about. Your girlfriend sent a demon bomb to us. And you and Walter are going after her.”
“We’ll talk about this when I get back,” he said. “If the queen doesn’t come after you herself first.”
Angie breathed in slowly and touched the tiara. Adjusted the rosemary twigs. She tucked her frostbitten hand against a healing amulet. He didn’t like the signs of dead skin on the hand that had activated the amulet on the null staff. There was something odd about it, but that too would have to wait.
He told her the plans he and Walter had made. Her eyes lit, her interest obvious.
“And you arenotgoing,” he said. “You would be an impediment and a liability to us.” He said it in a provocative manner. She opened her mouth to argue and then closed it, her lips tight. When she didn’t disagree, she gave away the fact that, despite her seeming coherence and the tiara, she was still feeling the effects of the concussion.
Instead, she said, “I’ll spend the time doing research. Asshat has to be involved.”
“It would be the simplest answer,” he said, not actually agreeing.
“But?”
“Karson was my first thought, but too many things point to your ex. It’s too easy. And while he isn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier, he’s also too smart to leave a trail this wide.”
Angie’s expression said she wasn’t so sure, but again she didn’t argue. She just watched when he checked the doors leading to her private outdoor space.
Her apartment had an eight-foot-wide balcony that looked down on the entrance below, giving her a protected sitting and yoga area, one that was outside and open to the forces ofnature from which she could draw power. Angie used her balcony all year round, no matter the heat, ice, or storms, and he counted ten potted plants that stayed out there as well, all of them rootings from his mother’s ever-living rosemary plant. His own balcony was above hers, though he seldom used his, except to pull energy from a good windstorm and to practice swinging from one floor to another via the building’s balconies.
Tonight looked and smelled like an ice storm to his air-witch senses. If he wasn’t working, he’d have sat on his own covered balcony and soaked up the storm’s wind energies, converting them to magic.
Thunderstorms were also Angie’s favorite weather pattern, which should have made her an air witch like him. She wasn’t. Angie was…Well, no one really knew what kind of witch Angie was. She could do a little of everything. That made her both scary and coveted.
Assured she was secure, EJ chucked her under the chin and let himself out, wondering what mischief she would get up to as soon as she felt well enough.
Walter had been busy while EJ talked to Angie. According to the calls EJ had overheard, and toOjos’s log, their bodyguard had spoken privately with multiple people. EJ had been privy to the first two. The first was with the Everhart-Trueblood parents to inform and to soothe the maternal hysteria. In the panic of the moment, Mama had received a glimpse of EJ’s naked butt on-screen. EJ had not been amused.
Then, alerted byOjos, the queen herself had called and Walter had begged forgiveness for bringing an unknown deviceinto the apartment and danger to the royal assets. EJ had deliberately listened in on that call but had wrapped a towel around his middle just in case.
Because of his failure, Walter offered himself up to be placed in a scion cage for as long as the queen desired or ruled.
Aunt Jane had made a sound like “Pfft,” and then added, “Handle this any way you see fit, Walter. You’re all alive. Send me updates.” She hadn’t used the royal “we.” That made all this personal to this point, so that was good.
Uncle Eli had conference called with the parental unit and Walter, andOjoshad provided EJ a summary of this call. After watching the footage several times, the witches had decided the amulet had been spelled to make someone—anyone—pick it up. No one blamed Walter except Walter himself.
For some strange reason, Walter had also talked with Koun, the queen’s personal guard, executioner, chief strategist, and a dozen other titles. And he had talked with the queen’s Consort. Then the queen again. And others with power and resources. There were no transcripts or summaries on these calls, which frustrated EJ though he wasn’t surprised.
Though EJ hated all the calls Walter had made, he wouldn’t complain. Walter had a job to do. Communication with others in this multilayered situation was a necessity, not a family reunion, singing “Kumbaya.” EJ was realistic about family and royal resources.
When EJ was buzzed into Walter’s apartment, their bodyguard was talking to Grampa Shaddock, the Master of the City of Asheville. According to the weird and overlapping vamp hierarchy, the queen was Walter’s political senior, and Gramps was Walter’s vamp senior. So now everyone knew about the demon bomb.Blast it.
“You take care of my grandchildren. And, thank you, my friend,” Gramps said.
