Chapter 28

Beginning was a long process and required orders. Lots of orders. Bryce was forced to play slave, pushing all the furniture to one side. Apparently, Kane didn't want to tire himself out—though he barked loudly every time an invisible scratch appeared on his furniture.

It wasn't too bad, though, because Kane was too busy bringing supplies slowly out of the room that we weren't allowed to enter to yell too much. He stuck to glaring. Apparently, my very presence was disrupting his mojo. Whatever. He freaked me out so I figured we were even.

He brought out lots of different herbs, so many different kinds that I couldn't identify them all and—not to brag but—I knew a lot of herbs. After that, he brought out candles. And then bones. I threw up a little in my mouth and I think he noticed because he seemed delighted. When he went back into the room, I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall.

The smell of rotting...something filled the air. My eyes flew open, just so I could reassure myself that it was nowhere near my face. It looked like some sort of meat, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't. Not animal meat, anyway.

Bryce joined me by the wall, the two of us trying to give Kane as much room as he needed to prepare. On the empty hardwood floor, he drew a large circle with his herbs, arranging them in what I'm sure was a precise pattern, even if I couldn't make sense of it at all. He was taking too much care for it to be haphazard. Around the room, he removed pictures to reveal ancient symbols carved directly into the wooden walls. This wasn't just his house, it was his altar. We shouldn't be here...I couldn't say it out loud. It was far too late for that.

The candles went into another circle on the floor, outside of the herbs. Two smaller circles inside, bone in flesh in the most literal sense, were drawn before Kane went outside for a bucket of dirt, which he used to create yet another circle, so that earth and flesh mingled together.

"There are easier ways to do this, I thought," I said quietly to Bryce. Kane didn't even glance up from where he was moving a candle back and forth, trying to angle it perfectly. I didn't know much about demon summoning—except that I should never do it—but it had to be easy enough that even sorcerers could do it.

"He's going to summon someone pretty powerful. Too powerful, probably. If we're really unlucky, it'll be Baal himself." Bryce leaned over, making sure not to disturb Kane. "He's not doing this for us, Gillian. He just likes doing it. But humans can't survive being possessed for very long, not even when they're as conditioned as he is. All this is to give him the strength to endure, not to summon the demon."

"Possessed? That's—" Suicidal. Crazy. "—not safe. There are easier ways."

"The demons get off on it. Puts them in a better mood. There aren't many people on the planet who do this willingly." No shit. "Gillian? If something goes wrong, get out of this building as fast as you can. Go out the front door, the one we went through just now. They can't leave the house with his body."

"How do you know?"

"The deal I made for Leech? I was fifteen. I needed help. I still remember the rules."

"Hush," Kane said. "I'm ready to begin."

It was almost boring, watching the sorcerer summon demons. A lot of chanting, which I had done before and wasn't nearly as exciting when roughly translated it was basically: Come mighty one, come and inhabit me. It sounded like dialogue from a bad porn movie.

When the candles began to flicker in and out, it got a lot more scary. They would go completely out and then relight, every other one flashing. It was more movie-sorcery than anything I had ever seen in real life. The light streaming into the cabin dimmed, and through the window I could see the trees outside shaking. Kane was still chanting. A powerful wind began to blow, even though the door remained shut. My hair began to get in the way of my vision. Beyond the blonde curtain, I could see Kane's hair doing the same.

Lightening sounded outside and I jumped. Bryce grabbed my wrist, holding it a little tighter than was comfortable. He looked a little pale himself. The whole earth was shaking. The chanting continued, only now Kane was screaming and the smell of burning flesh began to waft through the air. The objects in the circle erupted in flames and were quickly devoured.

"I was summoned?"

It was Kane who spoke, but there was no doubt that it wasn't really him. The sorcerer had radiated power. The being before us was a hundred times worse.

"Speak."

For once, Bryce sounded polite as he explained how I wanted to make a deal. He even threw in a couple sirs. It wasn't much for groveling, but it was much better than I had expected of him. Deferral didn't suit Bryce, but I was impressed he could remotely fake it.

Kane's black eyes turned to me but they held none of the condemnation that they usually did. There was only mild curiosity and nothing more.

"Unremarkable creature. Kimaris never has much luck with whelps." Maybe because grand-daddy wasn't remarkable himself, I thought, but didn't dare say aloud. Still, Kane's eyes blinked and I was terrified the demon had heard. When he spoke, he bit out each thought slowly, like he wasn't used to having to say anything at all. "Do you know who I am, child?"

"No, sir," I replied honestly. You can't lie to demons, no matter how good you are—they were too good at it themselves. Instead, I gave a little bow, because it seemed like he wanted it. "He never said, but I can tell you we're honored you choose to appear to us."

"He often brings me interesting specimens. He is rewarded greatly when I am pleased." The demon smiled Kane's smile but the teeth suddenly looked like fangs. "And punished when I am not. I am Moloch, Lord of Hell, Right Hand of Baal, Devourer of Children, More Powerful than the Stars. And it pleases me to help you."

"Gillian MacArthur." Did the brevity sound disrespectful? I hoped not. "We're honored that you've appeared. I suppose you already know what we want, sir, but I figured—anyway, any information you have on the demon that keeps attacking would be greatly appreciated."

Demons, especially the higher ups, could keep tabs on each other when someone was on Earth, though they rarely shared that information with us lower beings. They compared it to looking down from heaven, but no one was stupid enough to take a demon at his word. The point was that they knew things about where other demons were on earth—it would be easy enough for a Lord of Hell to think around and find out who had been in L.A. in the last little while.

"Your offer?"

"Oh." I had figured that he would just come out and name his price. What did demons want these days? Cable? "Well, there's violence."

"And sex." Always about the sex. "Is that why you brought your lover with you, little one?"

Lover? I cringed. It sounded so...intimate. Like we were close. Like he wouldn't offer me to the demon in a heartbeat if it suited his purposes. But, the demon did have a point. It would be awfully convenient.

"No children," I told him. I wouldn't—couldn't—do to another living creature what my mother had done to me. If you weren't ready for children, you shouldn't have them. Period. Especially with Lords of Hell.

The air became moist when Moloch laughed, tickling my skin. "Kimaris would be most offended if his descendant bore one of mine. He is merely an annoyance, but it serves my plans none to offend him."

I'm sure it sounds horrible and degrading, but really, it didn't seem that bad. Sex with Bryce, or sex with a creature that looked like Bryce—there couldn't be that much of a difference, could there? And it was probably the least horrific of the options we would have to pick from.

I glanced at Bryce and realized the only reason he hadn't said anything yet was that he had been rendered speechless. But he was clearly furious. Eyes bulging, hands shaking, face bright red—very, very furious. Furious and scared. And that's what cinched it.

"I'm really good at healing spells," I suggested, changing the topic.

Moloch chuckled and the house shook. That really wasn't comforting. "You would find little use for such magic where I am from. No, you will have to offer something else"

"How about you tell us what you want and then we'll decide if we can do it?" Bryce's tone was borderline insubordinate and I cut in quickly before Moloch decided that what he really wanted was to teach Bryce some manners. Even demons could believe in the impossible.

"If you don't mind."

"I will tell you who seeks you and anything else you desire to know about him. In return—I confess, I have yet to fully test the limits of witch healing. If you were to take a man, and were to measure how long you could keep him alive while you cut him to pieces, removed his flesh inch by inch, stopped him from bleeding out as each bit of him came off, I would be interested in providing you with information."

"I..."

"I would complete my side of the bargain today," he added magnanimously. "You will have within the month to begin to complete yours."

"I couldn't."

"Couldn't you?" He seemed almost kind as he smiled at me, just looking out for the granddaughter of a friend. "Is there no man out there you can think who would deserve such a fate? A man with dark hair and thick fingers, perhaps? A man who has escaped justice long enough?"

For Savannah...would it really hurt? Hadn't he brought it on himself? I felt sick. Not because I couldn't do it—but because I thought I could. I think I could have watched him suffer and been okay with it. But I'd been hanging around Paige too long; it wouldn't have been right. And maybe being around Bryce had been a good thing, because I finally realized it wasn't a fair deal, either.

He hadn't wanted Dana to die. He hadn't cared about her living, of course, but he hadn't wanted her dead.

It wasn't fair of me to want him dead for that. I could keep on not caring about him living, but to torture him to death...

It wasn't fair.

There was a part of me that was very disappointed.

"Can I hear option B?" I asked.

To my surprise, he actually provided me with one. "Or you could simply kill the demon I will tell you about."

"You can't kill demons," I blurted out without thinking. Moloch merely blinked. Glancing over, I asked Bryce, "Can you?"

He nodded slowly. "It's dangerous, obviously, but—we can do it. As long as you only have to cast the killing blow and not do the whole process by yourself."

Moloch seized on this: "Information and the location, in exchange for you casting the killing blow against Foras within the week. That is my offer."

"Let's make a deal."

Bryce performed the spell that would bind me and Moloch to our sides of the bargain. I couldn't cast the binding magic Bryce could, and he couldn't cast it on himself. He could only act as intermediary. Which maybe wasn't safe for me, since having me die probably wouldn't motivate anyone, but I was the only other person around for miles.

Moloch seemed to enjoy the pomp and ceremony, even though it did drag on. I wasn't about to say anything. I sort of had to follow the example of the Devourer of the Stars or whatever.

When the spell was complete, Moloch turned his attention back to me. "Do you know of Foras, child?"

What I knew of demonology I had picked up from Adam Vasic, and I was usually too busy trying to use my as-of-yet undiscovered telepathic powers to influence him to make a move on Savannah to bother listen to the words coming out of his mouth. I shook my head.

Moloch sighed, a 'what do they teach you in these schools?' kind of sigh and explained: "He was once a favorite of the Lord Baal, despite his limited abilities. Every demon is strong, and so his fall from grace was not mourned. We did not care when he was locked away in the lowest dungeon in the very bowels of hell. We only cared when he escaped and for hundreds of years we could not find him. Can you guess where he went, child?"

"The time tear?" I offered.

Moloch nodded, and Kane's face looked at me almost proudly. "He had not been lost. He had merely left the eternal realms for the mortal, stuck in transition for more years than you could comprehend."

The Lords of Hell could watch him while he was here, but their ability to punish Foras would be limited until he was back in their realms. There were rules about this sort of thing—demons couldn't kill other demons on Earth. They liked to pretend otherwise, but Earth wasn't their sandbox. A demon who wanted sanctuary, who wanted to prove himself worthy of redemption, could stay among the humans and none of the others could drag him back to hell. Unless someone as stupid as me came along and offered to help...

Moloch was a little more diplomatic about it, but that's essentially what he said.

"But why would he stop attacking us, suddenly?"

"Any who pass the threshold of your so-called 'time tear' are indebted to the one who created it. They must obey."

"So whoever opened the tear told Foras to leave us alone?"

"Not necessarily. He may have been called back without consideration of his current activities."

"You talk like the creator would have been able to know what he was doing."

"The threshold is an act of power that mortals should not have."

"So someone could see what the demon was doing, if they wanted, just because he passed through it once?"

"Easily."

"So who created it?"

"That information is beyond even me," he said. I must have looked a little disbelieving, because he continued: "If we were all-powerful, do you really think we would be in Hell? I know that the threshold enslaves all who pass through it. I know not who commands this one."

"But I went through," I pointed out. "Does that mean whoever opened it could command me?"

"You entered," Moloch corrected. "And returned. You did not pass through, you were released. It can be a meddlesome creature that way—a wise mortal would never attempt to domesticate it."

"It's...alive?"

"It is beyond your comprehension, child, as are most of the ancient powers. I would wager that the one who opened it does not understand the power they are trying to control. Now, is there any other information you would like before I show you the location of Foras?"

Unable to think of anything, I glanced at Bryce to make sure I had covered everything. All we really wanted to do was find the bastard and find who was controlling him. Bryce shook his head and I turned back.

"I think we're good. Are you just going to tell us where he is?"

Moloch made a sound almost like a snort. "He will move. I will bless you with a gift. You will see him in your mind's eye until he leaves this mortal realm and falls under the power of Lord Baal once more. Or until your week is over."

I shivered, my stomach a block of ice. But I had agreed.

"Okay."

Moloch's eyes flashed fire for an instant, which was even more terrifying than the black. And that's how I sold my soul to the devil. Not even the devil, but a devil. There wasn't even a flash of lightening or something dramatic like that. He walked straight out of Kane's circle of fire, just to show he could. The skin on Kane's body rippled and tightened, giving the demon an even more skeletal appearance.

"Close your eyes and kneel before me."

I did as I was told. Maybe I should have asked what his power was first—power of the stars sounded nice, but what did that really entail? The air above my head began to swelter and I had my answer. Sweat poured off my forehead like it was some kind of faucet. My hair matted to my neck. I would have screamed but found I was paralyzed. A burning hand came to rest on my forehead.

He spoke in a mixture of Hebrew and Arabic and something far older than either of them. I didn't need to know the language to know the words. I could feel them, embedding themselves in me, branding me. The power of Moloch filled me. The pain grew and I knew no more.

I woke up not on the floor, but curled up in Bryce's lap as he sat on the ground, leaning against the wall for strength. It couldn't have been easy to hold me when I kept shaking. My eyes fluttered shut and I let myself take a nice long deep breath to try to stop myslef from freaking out. When I finally found my courage, I opened my eyes and looked around the cabin for Kane.

His body was lying right in the middle of the circle. At least, I assumed it was Kane's body. His once pitch black hair had turned white; his skin was leathery, weathered and beaten. It was a corpse, not a man.

"Is he—?" But I didn't dare complete the thought.

"He'll look normal when he wakes up. One of his many deals." It was twisted. Not right. Unnatural.

"Why would he do something like that?"

"Because he could. And then he had, too. Because he couldn't stop." Bryce sighed, and I felt his body deflated around me. "He had a family once, you know. A whole handful of kids and this wife...when I was about two or three there was an earthquake and then—Dad said he wasn't the same afterwards. He started...I guess he figured if he could break every other limit there was, he could somehow find a way to bring them back." I curled into Bryce even further. "But even he knows you can't bring back the dead."

"What's the point of all that power then?"

"I don't think even he can remember any more. There's no stopping him now; at least he's still useful. Does whatever the hell Moloch did to you work?"

I closed my eyes, unsure of what would happen. The darkness didn't have a chance to descend. The feeling was impossible to describe—I was everywhere at once. I was flying through the sky, I was lying on the beach, I was shopping in Paris, I was shivering in the Arctic, I was sweating in Beijing. It was glorious. I could have touched the stars. A gasp tore from my throat as I dove through the streets. And then there he was—Foras was walking through the streets of L.A.

"It works," I breathed out, trying to control it. Impossible. Euphoria was overtaking me and I found myself moaning in ecstasy. The power of the immortals—I knew then why Kane had turned himself into a shadow of a man. I knew.

"Careful," a voice that didn't belong to Bryce snapped and I quickly opened my eyes. It was Kane, looking as he had when we had arrived. Dark, wild hair and barely wrinkled skin. A timeless mask over a withered body. A death mask. "Careful witch. What they call a blessing is a curse to you and I."

A warning, and remembering the white-haired mess from before, I could listen. I kept my eyes open and pulled my mind away from that vision. With a small, embarrassed smile at Bryce, I got up. "We should go. I'd like to find the demon quickly."

"We should track it for a while, see if it can't lead us back to its master first," he said. He turned to Kane. "I appreciate this."

"No witches next time," Kane snapped. "And I better not see you soon."

Bryce snorted and began ushering me to a door. Not the one we had come through to enter, not the front door, and not the one Kane disappeared into. Yet another one. Damn doors. "See you in another ten years, you old coot."

Kane's snarling face was the last thing I saw, before the door slammed shut behind us.

I wasn't surprised to find myself back in the middle of the California desert—maybe a little. I figured Kane would make us suffer, but I guess he wanted his guests to leave as fast as possible. It took a few moments to orient ourselves and then we were off, walking back towards the highway where Paulson should have returned to wait for us.

The desert sun beat down, but at least it was warm. After all that I had been through, I appreciated the heat. "Bryce," I asked as I scrambled to keep up with his long strides, "Why did he owe your father?"

He laughed but looked almost embarrassed when he answered. "When Dad found out Kane summoned Lucifer for me, he went to try and kill Kane. Kane probably would have won, but I think even he realized he had crossed a line. He promised Dad a favor."

"So you caused the favor and collected it." Only Bryce. "Why did you want to talk to Lucifer?"

"Did Leech tell you—?" I confirmed it. "We made the deal with Lucifer. We were young and Lucifer sounded the coolest. Afterwards, Kane even complimented me, said I did an excellent job of creating loop-holes for my client. The unfunny thing was I hadn't meant to." His grin became sadder, softer. "Dad was actually proud. It's not every teenager that can make a deal with Lucifer and not end up selling away his soul."

That was debatable. Leech had told me some of the things he had done before Lucifer would implement his side of the bargain. Most of them had not been pleasant—or legal. But he had gotten what he wanted. The dead had stopped bothering him. Even if every other necromancer on the planet thought he was a traitor to his own kind.

"Did his mom really get that bad?" I asked, almost jogging to keep up. I was a lightheaded. We needed to get back and start helping, but I suspected I was going to pass out soon, instead.

"She was powerful," he said. "Super powerful, but only in weird ways. They were some sort of inbred branch of necros, her family. She might have been okay if it wasn't for her husband. He was VP back then and angling for a promotion. He pushed her, he pushed her and pushed her and fucking—" Bryce broke off angrily. "When she started losing it, it happened so goddamn fast. When they said her family could do things other necromancers couldn't, there was a reason for that. He shouldn't have made her do that shit. Fucking—"

He broke off and slowed down. "Leech freaked. His dad was useless, too busy with the woman he had destroyed to take care of his son. If I hadn't been around—he tried to kill himself, you know. I love the guy but he's sort of useless. Couldn't even do that right. That's when I remembered Kane. And we made the deal."

I shivered. My mother had been a bitch, my father had never been around. But the power I had didn't mean I had to be like them. I was grateful, all of a sudden, for not having to make that choice. Your power or your sanity—I don't think I could chose. The power was who you were. Could you give that up just to stay alive? Leech had, but sometimes when he looked at Bryce I was pretty sure he hated his best friend from sparing him from the madness and all that came with it.

"You and your deals," I muttered as I followed him down into the gorge.

"Should we talk about your deals, then? Because I have to say, Gillian," his voice rose as we walked, "Almost agreeing to have sex with a demon is ridiculously stupid, even for you."

"It's just sex," I mumbled. "Anyway, it's not like you wouldn't have gotten to watch."

He finally stopped walking, if only to turn around and yell at me. "Are you insane? Don't answer that—I've noticed you can't seem to accidently stop putting your life in danger, but are you really that dumb? Do you have any idea—?"

He broke off, probably so he wouldn't strangle me. I replied honestly. "No. Two weeks ago I'd never seen a demon, never mind drawn up a contract with them. Which is why I didn't do it. You said not to and I didn't. I'm sorry if I don't understand what would be so bad about it but give me credit for not going through with it. "

He seemed to accept that. Though he continued lecturing me, his voice lost some of its anger. It was cold and flat.

"Cacodemons only have mutually enjoyable sex when they're smart and powerful enough that they want the mother to raise the child herself. They aren't gentle when they've had to promise not to have offspring afterwards. Why would they bother? They aren't getting anything out of being kind. He would have torn you apart, Gillian. And he wouldn't have stopped until you were bleeding, broken, unconscious and in too much pain to move when you did wake up. Do you understand? It would have been ugly. I would have had to watch that. And afterwards, all you would be able to think is how I raped you even as you begged me to stop."

"It would have bothered you?" I asked uncertainly. I couldn't concentrate on the other words he had said. If I did, I would freak. It had never occurred to me. I didn't think—obviously that was my problem. Then I realized what I had just said. "That came out wrong," I said quickly. "I just meant...what happened to the 'if they're idiots, they deserve it' thing you've got going on?"

Bryce shook his head, but there was a glimmer of amusement on his face. "You really are an idiot, MacArthur. I have to give you that. But you're a special kind and so I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"That's almost sweet."

"You and that damn word." And then finally he noticed that I was seconds away from passing out. "Could you please say something when you're not feeling well?"

"There's nothing you can do. It would have been a waste of breath."

He muttered something about wasting breath and then began climbing up the other side of the gorge. I scrambled after him, tripping over loose rocks. Outdoors was not nice to me. Strong hands on my hips had to lift me up the last little way.

He studied me like I was some interesting desert specimen that he found vaguely disturbing. A lizard maybe. Thoughts raced across his face, too fast for me to read, and he dismissed them all before announcing. "Damn. Come on, get on."

He turned around and crouched so I was facing solid back. "Bryce, this is ridic—"

"Gillian, hurry up before I decide to push you down the hill."

It was a long way to fall. With a long suffering sigh—because this was humiliating—I climbed onto his back. "How far do you think you could possibly carry me?" I demanded as we set off.

I might have given him more credit, but the ground was uneven and the terrain unexpectedly filled with strange plants. It would be hard enough for him to balance on his own, let alone with my weight on him.

"Until you don't look like you're going to pass out. Now, put your mouth to go use and provide a distraction."

I couldn't help grinning. Squeezing my legs tightly around him, I breathed right in his ear. "What kind of distraction do you want, Bryce?"

"One that doesn't require us to stop and fuck in the middle of nowhere."

I pouted a little, just for show. Not only was sex a bad idea for future ruining reasons, but we also had to make good time back to Los Angeles. A distraction was needed for my sake, too. Fighting the urge to close my eyes and let myself fly through the city was taking more willpower than I had.

"What to talk about? Hmmm..." I cast my mind around, trying to come up with something. We had probably spent most of the day walking back and forth from Kane's. "So how do you plan to get your grandfather to name Josef heir?"

"How do I get Grandpa to change his mind? I don't, Gillian. It's impossible."

"Sure you can. Even Thomas Nast is remotely human—he can change his mind. The trick is to figure out how to do it. Come on, Bryce, I want to help."

"And how can you help?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm almost scarily good at getting people to do what I want them to do. In the short-term, anyway. I'm the worst at anything long-term, but if you temporarily need to manipulate someone, I'm your girl."

"Really, now?"

"Yup. I can help you figure out how to emotionally blackmail your grandfather, if you want me too."

"I love it when you talk dirty." He snorted. "You're completely ridiculous, you realize."

"Maybe," I agreed. "Is that a no?"

"Fuck no. Should I start telling you about his childhood phobias?"

I laughed as we slowly made our way out of the desert, talking about Thomas Nast. Not that I managed to come up with anything he hadn't thought of—or tried, which actually made me feel sorry for the old bastard for a whole three seconds—but it was fun.

Both of us were careful not to mention bastard children. Bargaining is a lot less fun when you're talking about your own flesh and blood.

We made our way out of the desert in that way. Bryce would carry me when I started looking too pale for his liking and I would demand to be put down when he started stumbling. When we hit a dead end in trying to come up with ways to ruin his future, he finished teaching me the spell we had been working on the night before (was it only the night before that I thought Savannah was finally safe? Would this nightmare never end?) And just like we expected, Paulson was waiting patiently when we emerged.

Bryce helped me into the backseat and climbed into the front. "Where to, sir?" Paulson asked.

Bryce turned around to look at me and I closed my eyes. It left me dizzy but exhilarated. I told them the address and we sped off.

When I blurted out that demons couldn't be killed, I was pretty close to the truth. They weren't mortal like we were and so they couldn't die. But they broke just like we did. If you could hurt a demon enough, they had to go back to where they came from to heal. When inquired just how much was enough the only answer I got was an abrupt, "Badly."

Reassuring.

I napped a little in the backseat. There was even a blanket. It helped sort of helped.

Bryce called Leech and relayed the information we had learned about the time tear while I slept. Occasionally, he would wake me up and ask for directions. It became second nature, to close my eyes and just know where Foras was. No wonder demons were power mad. It just seemed so easy, close your eyes and there were no more mysteries. He was slowly moving out of L.A. to some sort of rural land and it was harder and harder to find an address. But Moloch's gift held up. I could track Foras no matter where he went.

When I fully woke up, we were struggling through Los Angeles traffic. Before moving out here, I hadn't really realized just how many cars there were in the world. Now I knew. They all piled onto the streets of L.A. I missed Georgia, sometimes.

"Did you call your brother?" I asked, leaning over the front seat.

"I'll call him when I have something to say. Foras still where we left him?"

I closed my eyes but this time he wasn't on the road. He was walking into some sort of barn. There didn't seem to be anyone around, luckily. No, wait...there was. There was a man in black, weapon in hand, walking casually up to the demon. Talking to him. Foras nodded and sat straight-backed on the floor.

It was the man in uniform that interested me. I recognized him. Twelve-Thirteen. I pulled away from the vision, just slightly, enough so I could see more of the situation. The man gestured and another man in old Nast strike force uniform nodded. He repeated the gesture and another man nodded. There was a whole team of them, surrounding the demon but doing nothing.

"We have a problem," I informed Bryce. "I think he's waiting for something to happen."

"What?" I told Bryce what I was seeing. He swore and then asked, "How many are there?"

I tried to control the vision, but it was like trying to count the clouds while sitting in a roller coaster. "Four—three. Wait, there's six. No, five. Wait." I tried to relax, but that didn't help. But I would do this. Finally, I was pretty sure: "There's eight of them. Shouldn't there be more?"

Bryce shot me a look. "They were in a rather spectacular car wreck and then a fire fight that only some of them managed to escape from. I'm going to call Sean, see if anyone else has followed these guys."

As Bryce rambled on, I stopped paying attention. Because a car was driving down the street in front of the barn...a very familiar car.

"Don't call Sean. Call the Cortezes."

Bryce actually did as I asked, even though it meant hanging up mid-sentence. "Pick up, pick up," I urged them. Mr Cortez glanced down at his cell phone and saw the caller id. He said something to Paige, who rolled her eyes. I tried casting a communication spell—which I knew we were too far away for it to work. Mr Cortez opened the phone and I exhaled.

But he didn't have a chance to say anything. Paige pointed something out and Mr Cortez lowered the phone and the two of them hurried off to the barn.

I was practically crying—Savannah would never forgive me if they got hurt while I was supposed to be protecting them. I wouldn't forgive me. I quickly told the others what I was seeing, then demanded, "How fast can we get there?"

"In this traffic?"

The look Bryce shot Paulson scared me, and I was just getting it second hand. "Twenty minutes," the Cabal prince said.

"Twenty minutes," the hapless minion repeated.

"Sean might be closer," Bryce suggested, calling up his brother.

"Can't you call in anyone else?" Cabal forces had the best response time in the world.

"Anyone we call in will see that we're helping the Cortezes. They might try and find out why. If they do and they tell Grandpa , there's no longer going to be an investigation."

"There might no longer be a Lucas and Paige Cortez," I snapped.

For a moment I could see how little that meant to him, how he was already considering the opportunities that would provide. But he was smart enough not to say anything to me—I would have had no choice but to kill him. Instead, he sighed. "Let me talk to Sean."

His conversation with his brother was brief. Sean was half an hour away, but promised to bring with him a team he thought would be discrete about this.

While the Nast brothers were being useless, Lucas and Paige walked into the barn. One of the men from Twelve-Thirteen shouted something. The Cortezes took one long look around and reluctantly put their hands into the air. That's when Foras walked towards the prisoners. He didn't look like he was ready for a friendly chat.

"Can't you go any faster?" I begged.

Bryce reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a police siren, which he handed to Paulson, who set it on the roof. I was never going to say anything bad about Cabals and their disrespect for the law again. The cars finally began to part and we tore past everyone.

There was nothing else left to do but hope we got there fast enough.