Gilda ran to me, taking me in her arms and holding me so tight I thought my ribs might break. She looked like hell—her hair a mess, eyes red, makeup smeared from tears. For the first time she looked old, her features gray with worry and exhaustion. Her only jewelry was her wedding set.
I tried to be reassuring and realistic, even though I didn’t have a lot to tell her. “He’s tough, Gilda. He’s hurt, and the leg was pretty bad…”
“They found him because of you. If you hadn’t gone there…” She choked up, unable to finish the sentence.
I eased her into a chair, gently breaking her panic-tight grasp, then took the chair beside her. She held one of my hands in both of hers. John Creede took the seat on her other side, giving me a nod of acknowledgment. While Gilda composed herself, John explained that she had called him and begged him to fly her north on his corporate plane. He hadn’t hesitated.
I gave him a grateful smile. It had been incredibly kind of him to bring her—though since Isaac was the Grand Master of the West Coast, it was probably important that John stay on his good side—and it was considerate of him to stay in the background, letting Gilda get the comfort she so desperately needed.
I wasn’t surprised at his kindness and tact. John is a good man. It was that, as much as his good looks and charm, that had drawn me to him, and that kindness was what I’d missed most about him since our relationship had ended.
We sent in word that Isaac’s wife had arrived, and after a little while one of the doctors came out and asked for a private word with Gilda. John and I made ourselves scarce, heading for the cafeteria. As we walked down the hall, I took a good look at him. It looked as if Gilda had caught him at the office—he was dressed for business, wearing a medium gray suit with a pale blue shirt and navy tie. He didn’t look rumpled, despite the flight. He’d cut his hair quite short since I’d last seen him, close enough to his head to keep it from curling, and there wasn’t a hint of stubble on his cheeks. It was a very formal look, and I knew him well enough to know that while he did formal well, he preferred not to. So I was pretty sure he’d interrupted important business—perhaps even a meeting or client appointment—to help.
“Thanks so much for bringing Gilda,” I said as we entered the cafeteria. I got in line ahead of him, picking up a yellow plastic tray and prepacked silverware.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” John slid a tray onto the counter beside mine. “You’ve known them longer, but Isaac and Gilda are my friends, too. In fact, I’m technically his apprentice.”
“Really?” I hadn’t realized that. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it. John was an adept-class mage, how could he possibly be an apprentice?
“He’s training me to replace him. That way if he retires, or dies, I’ll be ready to take over his position.” John looked seriously at me. “So I need to know what we are dealing with.” It wasn’t really a request.
“I’ll tell you, but not here. And before I do, I need to eat.” I hadn’t eaten since my bowl of ice cream that morning with Dom. I wasn’t hungry, in fact I felt a little queasy. But I remembered from painful experience that it was only a matter of time before bloodlust would hit, and hit hard, if I didn’t get some nutrition into my body.
John reached in front of me to pick up a small saucer filled with a small stack of orange Jell-O squares.
I love orange Jell-O and this was plain, without any chunks of fruit in it. Maybe if I let the squares melt in my mouth, I’d be able to eat it. It was worth a try anyway. I put a similar saucer onto my tray and moved forward. The soup of the day was tomato, so I asked for two bowls, then got a couple of cans of soda. I’d drink one with my meal and save the other for later. It had already been a long day and I suspected it was going to be an even longer night.
John insisted on paying for our dinner. I didn’t argue. I followed him to a table in the far corner of the room, away from most of the few doctors and nurses who were scattered at tables around the room. We didn’t have much privacy, but we wouldn’t be overheard if we spoke softly.
“So, what is going on?” John asked. “Gilda told me that you came to see Isaac and that he left almost immediately after you did. He said it was ‘business’ but wouldn’t tell her anything more. Then he disappears, and nobody knows what’s become of him, until he’s found at the Needle, beaten half to death.”
I cringed at his tidy summation of the facts. This situation was at least partly my fault and I felt more than a little guilty about it. I’d been the one to drag Isaac into this. I’d gone to him for advice, brought the problem to his attention. If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have gone to the Needle, wouldn’t be in critical condition right now. Yes, it had been his choice to go … and to go alone. But that didn’t make me feel any better about it.
Did I really want to risk anyone else? No. On the other hand, John is a big boy, and despite our disagreements, I value his opinion. So I decided to give him an edited version of what was going on.
I hadn’t gotten very far in describing what had gone down at the Needle when he started shaking his head. He didn’t interrupt, but he was obviously having trouble believing me.
“John,” I said, looking him straight in the eyes—and for a second I felt the pull of the old attraction between us. His magic had always had a deep, frequently sexual, pull for me. I shook
John reached over and took my hand. We both jumped at the tingle of electricity that passed between us. Magic, mine and his, mingled for just an instant. I forced myself to set aside the memories, both good and bad, of the time we’d shared. There was a flicker of sadness in his eyes, quickly suppressed.
“Celia, the Needle is built on a node—a nexus of lines of magical power. Its protections tap into the node. It takes four mages—working together—and a death to access the power, and it would take another death to break it. The warden would know if there’d been a death at the Needle. Every inch is under constant surveillance.”
I sighed, leaning forward so that we were very close and no one could possibly overhear. “This isn’t for public consumption, John, but the outer perimeters had both been broken and the minefield was disabled. That’s where they found Isaac.”
He pulled back, startled beyond calmness. “Fuck!”
Everyone in the room turned to look.
I grimaced. John had the grace to blush. “Sorry, sorry.” He looked around. Eventually people went back to their food, but they were keeping an eye on us now.
“So you told Isaac there was a problem and he went to check it out.”
“Yes.”
“And somebody did this to him.”
I nodded. “The mage on duty disappeared. At first I thought he might be responsible for the protections being down and for what happened to Isaac, but I’m not so sure now.”
John’s gaze intensified. “Why not?”
“You said they’d need to kill someone to disrupt the protections. Who better than the mage who’s supposed to be checking them every day and doing the renewal spells?”
He looked a little sick. “That makes sense … but the only way someone could pass for the duty mage, even for a little while, is if he was a spawn.”
Ah, yes, spawn, the child of a demon by a human. There weren’t a lot of them, so far as anyone knew, but it was hard to be certain. Most of them could shape-shift to look like anyone, and they lived much, much longer than normal humans. They weren’t immortal, but they were very hard to kill. Fortunately, for the most part, they were subject to the same weaknesses as all demons: holy water, holy artifacts, and the like.
My eyes locked with John’s. I barely spoke above a whisper. “Nobody sprayed me with holy water at the Needle and there wasn’t a single artifact to be seen. I’ve gone through tighter security at Birchwoods.”
Now he looked horrified. “That’s not right. I consulted with the architects on the magical parts of the design. I know what the procedures are supposed to be.”
“Well, I don’t know what they’re supposed to be. I can only tell you what I ran into when I was there yesterday, and I wasn’t impressed.”
I brought a spoonful of soup to my mouth. It had cooled to the perfect temperature. As the food hit my stomach, I felt a tension inside of me ease. I hadn’t realized how hard I’d been clamping down on my inner bat. I’d just done it. Now that I was away from the immediate crisis, and eating, my control loosened just a fraction.
Letting go even that little bit was a huge mistake. Quick as a snap of the fingers, my vision shifted to
