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“Masters are obliged to submit to the authority of the Compliance Bureau.”
“No,” my father said, as magic and anger began to rise, mix, in the air around us. “Wearethe AAM, and you are no Nicole Heart.”
Clive’s eyes flashed silver, his hands squeezed into fists. “Your daughter will submit, or she will be arrested and confined. If you afford her protections, you will be punished accordingly.”
That was when realization struck, hard and bright as one of Petra’s shocks. Clive had already decided the “facts,” and nothing we said was going to change his mind. Actual reason and logicwere lost on him, ignored due to his unwavering conviction that he was right, and I was evil. I admired conviction, but not obsession. Not willful ignorance.
Victory and defeat were the only things he understood. So defeat it would have to be. But I’d be damned sure he made the first move this time.
My parents stepped forward together, but I reached out, grabbed their arms. “Enough,” I called out. “Enough of this.”
They both looked back at me. “You will not—” my father began, but I cut him off with a shake of my head.
“We can’t ignore this any longer,” I called out, but squeezed his hand, willed him to understand.
I released him, stepped in front of my parents. And felt my mother’s anger at the movement. She’d been trained as a soldier, and didn’t like anyone, much less her child, shielding her from harm.
I put on my most frazzled and defeated look. “I’ll fix this,” I said to Clive. “But I need time to get some things in order.” My father began to speak, but I held up a hand. “Give me”—how much time would it take to find a way out of this?—“three days.”
Silence followed.
“One,” Clive said, finally.
“Two,” I said. “And no magical summons.”
Clive’s brows lifted. “So you can use your family’s considerable resources to run away and avoid punishment? No.”
An insult not just to me, but to my family. “Sullivans don’t run.”
“She will not leave Chicago for the next forty-eight hours,” my father said, probably working hard to guess my game. Then looked at me with trust enough that my throat tightened with love. “You can bond the House if you wish.”
Clive liked that possibility, it seemed, from the glint in his eyes. “Forty-eight hours,” he said, looking at me. “At which time, you will swear allegiance to a House other than Cadogan—assumingany will still have you. You will be Commended, after which you will immediately be taken to Atlanta for Testing. Should you fail to do so, you will be taken to Atlanta and placed into seclusion until such time as you have atoned for your crime.” Then he looked at my father again. “Cadogan House as bond.”
“She will meet you in forty-eight hours,” my father agreed.
Unless I came up with a better plan, I silently amended. Unless I figured some way to wiggle out of this in the meantime. Which I damn well would.
“I will meet you in forty-eight hours,” I said, and the deal wasmade.
FOURTEEN
Well, daughter mine,” my dad said when were back inside his office. “I hope you have a plan?”
I winced. “Not yet. But I will within the next forty-eight hours.”
“I’ll talk to Luc,” my father said. “Nicole will need to know about this, too.”
“While he’s doing that,” my mother said, “let’s take a walk.”
We both looked at her.
“A walk?” my dad asked.
“A walk.” My mother came to me. I searched her eyes, wondering what she might tell me, or what she might ask. What she might have seen. But she was my mother, so I nodded, took the hand she offered.
“We’ll be back,” she said, giving my father a look, and led me out of the office.
We walked through the kitchen, out into the yard, where path lights glowed and trees swayed in the breeze, not yet ready to give up their leaves for winter.
