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Ethan gestured to the tuxedo pants he still wore, the button-down shirt. “Many supernaturals wear suits.”
I thought of the sup at La Douleur in the suit and fedora, the one who I thought had ratted us out to Cyrius. We didn’t know if he was a sorcerer, but he’d known enough to want us out of the club. And he’d been a snazzy dresser.
“I know,” I said. “I’m grasping at straws. Because other than his connection to Adrien Reed, we don’t have anything.”
“Dusk,” Ethan said. “We’ll work through the steps, and we’ll figure this out. He won’t be able to hide much longer.”
Good. Because he’d been hidden long enough.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NEWSIES 2.0
Ethan and I returned to the House, stopped at the basement stairs.
“You’re going to the Ops Room?” he asked.
I nodded. “You’re going to meet with supplicants?”
“It’s only fair.”
We stood in silence for a moment. We were both afraid—afraid of losing something dear, afraid of what Adrien Reed wanted to take from us. That fear had blossomed into anger and frustration, and those emotions roiled between us, a barrier we hadn’t yet crossed.
“I’m not sure what else I can say.”
I looked up at Ethan. “Me, neither.”
He looked down, nodded. “Then let’s go about our work until we do know. I’ll see you later.” Without waiting for my response, he began to trot up the stairs.
When he’d disappeared, I pressed a hand against my stomach, which had tightened with nerves and fear.
Yet another reason to detest Adrien Reed.
• • •
I walked down the hall, but when I opened the Ops Room door, Lindsey shook her head.
“Nope, nope,” she said, moving to bar the door with arms outstretched. “You have company upstairs.”
I frowned at her. “Company? Who?”
“A very pissed-off sorceress.”
Damn. “Paige? Because of the alchemy?”
“Paige is in the library. It’s Mallory.”
“Mallory?” I checked my watch. It was late, and I didn’t have any idea why Mallory might be pissed off.
“And before you ask,” Lindsey said, “no, I don’t know what she wants, even with my wicked psychic powers.” She released one of her arms, used it to shoo me. “Go upstairs, talk to her, and get her to knock off the bad juju. She’s magically funking up the joint.”
