Cool relief washed through me to hear Linus was in the city, even if he was too late to help. “Oh?”
“I suspect Clan Jefferies wants you to flunk out instead of bow out to disqualify you on a technicality. That way, you give up any hope of an appeal.” He hesitated. “I read the rulebook last night. The bylaws. If you don’t finish the gauntlet, you can’t be voted in.”
That explained what he and Linus had been up to well into the afternoon, and it made my vision blur.
“What do they expect me to do?” I shoved off the wall. “There’s no way out but through.”
Unless they expected me to walk into an execution to grant them an uncontestable disqualification.
That would never happen. Not for my sake, or for Ambrose, but for Midas.
Our deaths would trigger his, and that I would never allow. Not for anyone or anything.
Footsteps perked my ears seconds before the bedroom door swung open.
“Clothes.” Grier flung them at me. “Move it.”
“Grier?” I cranked my head toward Midas after the door shut. “Did you know she was out there?”
And exactly how much of my freshly showered mate had she seen before he reached our bedroom?
“Yes.” He tapped his ear. “She arrived five minutes ago.”
Not that I was the jealous type, but I was glad she missed the pec parade.
“I’m here,” Grier called through the door. “So is Linus, FYI.”
The backs of my eyes prickled, and I clutched the fabric to my chest. “What is all this?”
“The pants and shirt are reinforced with Kevlar mesh.” Grier, who had seen my boobs at least as often as Midas, thanks to us taking turns lacing each other’s corsets while at Haint Misbehavin’, cracked the door to make talking easier. “You’ll bake in long sleeves, but it’ll be worth it if it keeps you alive. The boots are steel-toed and waterproof. The balaclava is water- and fireproof. The gloves are Kevlar lined, and they’re water- and fireproof as well.”
The outfit slid on easy and fit better than anything in my closet. I was a little warm, but I could manage.
Mask and gloves in hand, I entered the living room and embraced Grier. “Thank you.”
“Thank Linus.” She returned the hug until my breath hitched. “He designed one for each of us.”
The impulse to hug him twitched in my arms, but I kept my hands to myself to avoid making it awkward.
“Thanks,” I said softly, holding his gaze. “For not giving up on me.”
“Never,” he promised. “Whatever you—and Atlanta—need going forward, I’m here for you both.”
“Atlanta and I won’t be a couple for much longer,” I joked through a tight throat, “but I appreciate it.”
A deep furrow creased the skin between his eyes. “Have you spoken with Midas yet?”
“A little.”
“To be eligible for the vote, you must finish the gauntlet.” He touched on what Midas had already told me. “Jefferies plans to invalidate your candidacy by having you make the decision not to finish, thereby allowing Sue to emerge as the only viable choice.”
“Any ideas on how to flunk? Short of maiming or death? I would like to avoid those.”
A smile touched his lips as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Alternately, if neither of you finish, there can be no vote.” He rocked back on his heels. “The entire proceedings will be halted until the heads of factions determine how to proceed, as it appears there has never been a failure to finish that wasn’t the result of death or grievous injury.”
“That—” I turned over the possible answer to all my problems in my head, “—just might work.”
Bishop let himself into the apartment and shoved a bag of chocolate croissants at me.
No café mocha, but the milk was a recipe for disaster paired with exercise in this heat.
“Buy us time.” Midas touched my hair. “Convince Sue to join us or restrain her so she can’t interfere.”
“That might save my job,” I allowed, “but what about my friend? Are we any closer to finding Neely?”
Grier and Linus exchanged a glance as Midas’s cheek twitched. “We know where Neely is being held.”
Tempted to throw my breakfast at his head, I growled, “Why not lead with that?”
No wonder he came to bed so late. He put in a full day’s work before his head ever hit the pillow.
“You have this pesky habit of turning off your ears after you’ve heard the parts that interests you most.” Bishop smirked. “He wanted to be sure you heard the whole plan before you got hung up on a detail.”
Neely wasn’t a detail. He was the detail. The most critical part of this plan.
I wouldn’t die if I didn’t get appointed, but he would if we didn’t find him in time.
Still growling, I snapped my teeth through another croissant to show how I felt about being called out.
“He’s in the lake,” Midas clarified. “We have his coordinates, and the coven is preparing for extraction.”
“If you subdue Sue—” Grier, used to dealing with me when I was hangry, cut in, “—long enough for the coven to extract Neely and the Billiards, we might get lucky. The Grande Dame might call the gauntlet a draw. That might give you a second chance at the vote.”
That was an awful lot of might, but I would take it and be thankful for it.
“We have to go.” Linus checked his watch. “Mother is waiting.”
A chill the size of the iceberg that sank the Titanic slid down my spine at the mention of her.
“Linus and I will work on convincing the Grande Dame,” Grier told me. “We’ll be close if you need us.”
“Same goes for us,” Bishop grunted. “Milo is out on patrol. I’ll be in the trenches as well. Reece will have eyes on you the whole time, provided the gauntlet’s magic doesn’t blind him. Anca too.”
“The enforcers are helping with crowd control,” Midas added. “Mom will be there with bells on.”
None of them could enter the gauntlet with me, but this was the next
