I knew what Connor Finn looked like. I’d seen him in the hologram, after all. But seeing him in person, I was still surprised by his sheer
The silver circle that glowed around his seat was much more elaborate than the one on my side. It was engraved with symbols meant to block magical power so that no spell of any kind could be worked from inside. His hands and feet were bound in silver-and-steel shackles, and he sat calm and patient as the guards locked the connecting chains to a ring bolted to the floor. Connor Finn smiled, and I fought not to shudder as I remembered the last time I had seen that smile. Then he spoke, and I heard anew the voice that had haunted me as I lay burning on the beach.
“Well, well, Celia Graves, as I live and breathe. I thought you were smarter than this.” He pretended bonhomie, but there was no warmth in his expression.
My return smile could’ve given the man frostbite. “Evidently not.”
He laughed at that. “So, not so smart. But brave. You’d have to be, to come here when you know that so many people would love to make the Needle your permanent home. One wrong move and you’ll be joining me.”
I shrugged, trying to look impassive, as if his words hadn’t hit a nerve.
“I really hoped you would learn your lesson from our previous encounter. Burns are painful enough that they usually make a very effective teaching tool.”
He said it so very casually. I knew then that I’d made a mistake. I’d thought a man who’d been obsessed with a family feud would be obsessed with family, that he’d care what happened to the son who was the last of his line. But Connor Finn wasn’t capable of caring about other people for any reason. It simply wasn’t in his nature. I wondered why he’d killed the Garzas. It certainly wasn’t about the blood feud.
He stared at me, waiting for an answer. “Sometimes I can be a little bit stubborn,” I admitted. He smiled again, looking self-satisfied. I hated that smile.
“You’ve gone to quite a bit of trouble to see me, and now that we’re together, you’re very quiet. What would you like to talk about?”
What did I want to say? My insight of a moment ago changed everything and nothing. So I plowed ahead, hoping that if we kept talking I might stumble onto something important. “You’ve got Garza blood in your veins. If you do this curse of yours, you’ll not only kill Michelle, you’ll be killing yourself and your son as well.”
He gave a snort of what appeared to be real amusement. “You went to all this trouble…” He laughed. “Celia, sweetheart, you’re so cute.” He was feeling superior and oh so smug. It showed in his posture and in the condescending tone of his voice. “Don’t forget I’ve done a bloodline curse against the Garza family before. I didn’t die that time.
“Really, how stupid do you think I am?” He shook his head, mocking me by pretending my stupidity was making him sad. “You have one piece of the puzzle and you think you see the whole picture.
“You’re delusional.”
I smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant or happy smile. It was a fuck-you-buddy smile that flashed just a bit of fang. I don’t like condescension. “I may only have one piece of the puzzle, but without it, you won’t get your picture.”
Connor’s amusement disappeared as if it had been cut off with a switch, replaced instantly by ugly rage. His blue eyes blazed with anger. “You think you can stop me? Better than you have tried. They’re all dead … or dying.” He sneered, an honest-to-God movie-villain sneer. I wanted to laugh, it was so over the top. I knew he was dangerous, deadly, even. But I didn’t care, because in that moment, he was a cartoon.
Apparently, my amusement showed. A slow flush spread from his neck upward; his jaw clenched so hard I could hear his teeth grind. “You are going to die.”
My smile widened. I knew that provoking him was stupid, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. He’d pissed me off so mightily that reason had left the building. “We all die eventually. But if you don’t stop what you’re doing, you’ll go sooner rather than later.”
He snorted in derision. “I will survive. Just as I did before.”
“And what about your son? Will he?”
“Hard choices have to be made. Children die every day.” He spread his hands.
I shook my head. I wasn’t shocked. I know better than most that not all parents love their children, and I was fairly certain that Connor wasn’t capable of loving anyone or anything other than himself. “Bet he’ll just love hearing that.”
Another derisive laugh. “Tell Jack if you like. He won’t believe you. He’s as delusional as you are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think we’re done here.”
I rose. “I think you’re right,” I said and turned my back to Connor Finn. Despite the protective circles and the thick glass between us, my shoulders were clenched in anticipation of a blow until I walked out the door.
My guards fell silently in beside me. We walked down the hall and into the elevator; the only sound was of our footfalls echoing through the empty corridor.
As I rode down to the main floor, I replayed Finn’s words in my head. He was so damned arrogant—and not without reason. He was brilliant and hugely talented as a mage. He’d accomplished things magically that other men had never even dreamed of. But he was not invincible, and his disdain for others meant that he wasn’t careful about what he said.
“They’re all dead … or dying” was the phrase that stuck in my mind. I thought about my last meeting with Isaac Levy, the man whom I now knew was the Grand Master of the West Coast. I’d brought him a problem that fell into his area of authority. He’d consider it his responsibility to check things out, and he wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Finn was a mage, but Isaac was a mage, too, and, I was guessing, a pretty strong one if he was Isabella’s opposite number. He’d think he could face whatever Connor Finn dished out.
I hoped I was wrong, but every instinct I possessed screamed otherwise. Closing my eyes, I said a silent, desperate prayer. “Please, God. Not Isaac. Please.”
24
We stepped out of the elevator into frantic but well-organized activity. There were probably a hundred guards grouped in a semicircle around Warden Davis, Dom Rizzoli, and Eric Zorn, who was holding a tablet computer.
“What’s going on?” one of my escorts asked the nearest man. He was rewarded with only a glare, so he shut up and we stood still, trying to be inconspicuous.
The warden spoke without a bullhorn, but his voice rang out clearly; I wondered if there was a spell helping him or if he was a natural at projecting. “Listen up, people. We’ve had a major security breach. We have a missing civilian. There’s no time to waste. Break into teams of four. You’ll get your assignments from Assistant Warden Zorn.” Zorn nodded and moved to stand by the exit door.
Davis gestured to a supply clerk who was standing next to a rack loaded with a large number of what looked like the kinds of poles routinely used to check the efficacy of the magic perimeters that surrounded many public buildings. “One member of each team takes a pulse check stick.”
His arm swept to the other side of the atrium, where three women in street clothes—I guessed they were the warden’s office staff—were organizing more racks, this time of body armor and helmets. “Everybody wears full protection. No arguments, no exceptions. Six teams will go to the outer ring. Four to the second.”
He pointed to a small group of men in the equivalent of SWAT gear. “Specialists will be checking the minefield. Everyone else will be going through the building, room by room, floor by floor. We’re checking for
“The missing man is a mage, Isaac Levy. Levy arrived yesterday as a visitor and was last seen walking out the inner gate with Mage Barton. There’s no record of him actually leaving the site. Any questions? All right.
They moved. So did I, forcing my way through the milling mass until I reached Dom Rizzoli. My two guards
