“Of course he thinks it’s a good idea. And he knows I’ll think it’s a bad idea, which is why he brought it to you and not to me. He knew what my answer would be.”
“This is business,” Natalie said. “This is income, and exposure, and maybe a chance to show them all what we can do.”
That’s the trouble with bands, Jonah thought. You join one because you love to make music, and before you know it, it’s a business.
“I don’t need to show anyone anything,” he said. “Have you considered the fact that we might be walking straight into an ambush?”
“Jonah,” Emma said. “Rowan seemed to think that people in Trinity were involved in my father’s murder. You think they were behind the attack on Safe Harbor. We can all sit around here talking to each other, but if we really want to find out something, it seems to me we might learn more by going there, meeting some people, and asking some questions. Even if the people who were involved in the attack aren’t at the party.”
“I can’t imagine what we’d learn that would justify putting you in danger,” Jonah said.
“You’ve been complaining about Gabriel doing this very thing—avoiding confrontation,” Natalie said.
“I think you’re outvoted, dude,” Rudy said.
“All right,” Jonah said, giving in. “We’ll do the gig. But if it’s a disaster, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Chapter Forty-three
Halloween
“How come nobody embraces monsters, except on Halloween?” Emma said to Natalie, who was riding shotgun in Sonny Lee’s old Element. “Is it kind of like St. Patrick’s Day, when everybody in need of a party turns Irish?”
Natalie laughed. “Halloween is like a mix of pagan festivals, Irish folklore, All Saints’ Day, and Dia de los Muertos. It seems like every culture has a stake in it—pun intended.”
“I always think of Halloween as the time when the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest,” Emma said.
Natalie’s smile faded. “It’s always thinner than you think.” They’d taken two vans to the gig so they wouldn’t have to travel as a pack. That way, if somebody—i.e., Jonah—wanted to leave as soon as their set was done, he could. Jonah, Rudy, and Alison had gone on ahead in the white panel van that was Fault Tolerant’s usual ride, because Natalie was still working on Emma’s look.
“I’m not used to dressing up,” Emma had protested. “I need to be able to move to make music.”
“It’ll be fun,” Natalie said. “It’s Halloween, after all. And it will make you harder to recognize.”
“That’s for sure,” Emma said, looking down at herself.
This outfit was a compromise, though she felt like she’d given more ground than Natalie. She wore a low- cut black dress from a thrift shop that hugged her nonexistent curves and showed off her nonexistent assets. It was slit way past her knees, so at least she could walk. Overtop, a lacy jacket fastened with a red gardenia in front—she had insisted on some coverage— and lacy black gloves that extended from elbows to wrists, but left her hands bare. Emma had insisted on that, too. She was no Jonah Kinlock, who could play guitar with gloves on.
Natalie had pulled her hair up, leaving a few tendrils hanging down. Then added a close-fitting hat made of black feathers, a red gardenia over one ear. Smoky eye makeup and red lipstick completed the look. Every time Emma looked in the mirror, she was startled at the stranger looking back at her. Ah, well, she thought. Maybe I should try being someone else for a while, since being who I am isn’t working out so well.
Right now the skirt was hiked up to her thighs so she could work the Element’s resistant clutch.
She looked over at Natalie. Unfair. Nat had chosen a street look, with her hair teased up and tied back with a bandanna, extreme eye makeup, Converses, baggy jeans, and a flannel shirt. She looked . . . normal.
“I’ve been wondering,” Emma said. “Where did the name of the band come from?”
“It was Rudy’s idea,” Natalie said. “He’s the tech guy. According to him, a ‘fault-tolerant’ system is one that’s designed to keep working even if one part fails. Like a car that can still drive on three wheels, or a building that keeps standing even if a support fails because of rust, or fatigue, or whatever. This band has survived the loss of several members over the years. It’s important enough to keep going.”
“I guess, in a way, savants are like that, right?” Emma said. “We just keep going somehow.”
“Some of us do,” Natalie said somberly. “Not all of us.”
Trinity looked like a postcard of a college town, with its stone buildings and gingerbread houses painted in soft blues, pinks, and greens. What it didn’t look like was a fortress.
“How did the Interguild Council ever come to pick this little town for its headquarters?” Emma asked. “Isn’t it a bit out of the way?”
“I think it had to do with the fact that some of the major players in the underguild rebellion had roots in Trinity. Linda Downey, Jack Swift, and Leander Hastings all have ties here. Because of that, when the rebels forced a change in the Rules of Engagement, Trinity was established as a sanctuary that was free of attack magic. A lot of mainliners moved into the area because of that.”
Emma’s pondered this. “You know that dream where it’s the day of the final exam and you haven’t been to class all semester?”
Natalie laughed. “You have that dream, too?”
“Well, that’s the way I feel right now. Like I got started late and I’ll never catch up with all this magic business.” Emma downshifted as she navigated past the square and turned north toward the lake.
“Trust me,” Natalie said. “The only reason I know this much is I spent a summer in Trinity apprenticing with one of the sorcerers there. Mainliner history isn’t a focus of the curriculum at the Anchorage. In a way, Gabriel’s still a separatist.”
“Seems like it’s not working out that well for him either,” Emma observed.
It was nearly dark when they reached their destination, a small Victorian house on a leafy street that edged the lake. Tiny orange lights outlined the doors and windows and sparkled in the trees. Emma turned into a gravel driveway, past a large sign that said The Party is here! and pulled up behind Jonah’s van, which was parked in the drive as close to the side door as he could get. The others must have just arrived, because they had the rear doors open and were unloading equipment onto the drive. Alison, Jonah, and Rudy were dressed casually, like musicians ready for a gig.
I knew this was a bad idea, Emma thought, plucking at her own gloves.
Jonah was kneeling in the back of the van, his muscled chest and arms flexing as he lifted amplifiers and speakers down to Rudy, his black hair ruffled by the wind from the lake. Emma’s heart clenched. He was just so damned pleasurable to look at.
Natalie had poked through Jonah’s clothes, looking for wardrobe options. Then they’d argued for another hour. The negotiation had ended with Jonah in a skintight, paper-thin vintage Ramones T-shirt and faded blue jeans. And his trademark gloves.
When Rudy saw Emma and Natalie approaching, he nearly dropped the speaker he was holding. “Whoa!” he said. “Guess they don’t need us for sex appeal.”
Alison stared at them. “Nobody said we were dressing up,” she said, twisting the ends of her hair.
“Meet Lady Day,” Natalie announced, stepping aside to showcase her work. “Lady sings the blues.”
Jonah looked up, then did a double take. Sitting back on his heels, he stared at Emma, his face transitioning from surprise to wistful resignation. Like somebody who’s hungry and knows he won’t ever get fed. Emma could feel her cheeks heating, pinking up under his scrutiny.
Granted, maybe Emma was misreading him, but the signals he was sending definitely seemed mixed.
By the time she got close, he’d cleared his face of emotion. Nearly. “So,” he said, his eyes on her ruby-red lips. “You’re Billie Holiday?”
“Sort of,” she said, “though I guess you’re more of a torch singer than I am.”
He smiled, reached out, and fingered a tendril of her hair. “You look amazing,” he said. “It’s hard to imagine
