Page 142 of Dead Beat

“We’re not making predictions,” Turner said, “just contingencies. If I didn’t think we had a chance tomorrow, I wouldn’t be a part of this. But if things turn ugly—”

“Then it’s up to you to hold the line,” said Darlington. “If Golgarot opens the door, you use the alumni network, use the societies. Gather all their magic to try to stop the flood. The Praetor can help.”

“You think that will be enough?”

“I don’t know,” Darlington said. “Reiter told Alex that they didn’t want to claim the world. The problem with hunger is that no one ever just stays full.”

Alex pushed through the doors. “It’s not enough.” But she had an idea of what might be. She’d been around plenty of magic and she knew that disrupting a ritual could mean disaster for those involved. “If it really goes wrong, you have to break the enchantment, interrupt it. The bells mark the beginning and the end. So if we fail, find a way to stop the tolling of the final bell.”

“You could both die!” Dawes objected.

“That’s right,” said Darlington as he understood Alex’s meaning. “But so will Golgarot.”

Dawes curled her fists into the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“I know,” Alex said. “But Turner can.”

She met his eyes and he gave a single nod. It was something they’d always had in common. Turner was better at choosing the right thing, but they could both do the hard thing.

Alex took one last look at all of them gathered around the table, maybe for the last time. Everyone had their tasks. They knew the risks, knew their roles, and they would march on, even if no one was happy about it. Figuring out how to die wasn’t much different from learning how to live.

52

Alex waited for the house to go quiet before she slipped out of the Dante bedroom.

She nearly leapt out of her skin when Dawes said, “You don’t have to sneak around.” She was standing in the doorway to the armory.

Alex paused with her hand on the banister. “I thought it might be … I don’t know, a violation of Lethe rules.”

“It is. But I’m the closest thing Lethe has to an HR department.” She waved her hand through the air as if she were holding a wand. “There. All good.”

Alex knew she should probably leave it at that, but she couldn’t. “And we’re okay? Early on, I thought…” She had no idea how to finish that sentence. I thought that you were in love with him. I thought you belonged to each other and to Lethe.

“I love you both,” said Dawes. “But you are two of the last people I would ever want to be in a relationship with.”

“You’re best friends with a vampire!”

She shrugged. “I’ve lived a frightened life. I don’t want to be scared of happiness too.”

“Dawes, I’ve seen you take on frat boys, demons, and my rotten dad. If this is you scared, I don’t want to see you brave.”

“If the scholar had to make the climb…” She dug the toe of her Teva into the carpet. “I would run.”

Alex didn’t believe that. Every one of them would climb that tower. Full of dread, sure of failure, they would still climb.

“You could still run,” Dawes said. “I can get you money. There’s a whole world to hide in.” Her voice hitched. “I can’t lose you both.”

Alex crossed the hallway and wrapped her arms around Dawes. She stiffened, then hugged Alex back. She smelled faintly of rosemary and the cleaning polish they used in the armory.

“You won’t,” Alex promised, and she wanted to believe it was true.

Dawes released a little sob, then drew back and wiped her eyes. “See? Not brave at all.”

That was a lie. The movies loved cold-eyed assassins and flinty lone wolves. But the world needed people who wept and fought on, saps and suckers and fools who had their hearts broken but kept loving anyway, women who knew how to work magic with nothing but water and flour, a little salt, and a will that could grind iron to dust.

“You aren’t just the bridges and roads of Lethe, Dawes. You’re the battlements too.”

“And still I can’t keep you safe tomorrow night.”