Chapter 30

Paige and I were trying to work out who would be dumb enough to want to take on not one, but two Cabals for the thousandth time when Paulson announced, "They're finished. They're just cleaning up."

Sure, it made more logical sense for Sean and Paige to go in, but would you really want someone you cared about to see you after you did something that, well, no one should ever do? I didn't think so.

Walking inside on my bum ankle wasn't pleasant, but I shook off Paulson's help. I didn't want to give Bryce the opportunity to take out his frustrations on his employee. No one tried to stop me, beyond a muted call from Paige. The first thing I saw when I reached the door was feet laying just out of sight, covered in blood. I could see Mr. Cortez pacing near the back. But it wasn't what I couldn't see that bothered me the most—it was the smell of burst flesh that lingered in the air. I was sick of that smell.

"I thought I told you to stay out there," Bryce said, pushing off from the wall beside the door and quickly standing in front of me. Preventing me from seeing what was beyond him. I wasn't about to look. Shrugging, I took the cigarette from his hand and stubbed it out. It took a valiant effort not to imagine what use he had put my cigarettes too. The smell was searing, disgusting. Thank goodness they had managed to muffle the screams. By magic or the old-fashioned way, I didn't care. "Is Lucas coming?"

"Since he's not a complete sociopath he's a little upset right now. In order not to worry his wife, I decided to give him a minute."

"Are you...?"

"I'm not sorry," he said defiantly. No one could do defiant like Bryce. "It was necessary."

"Bryce, I've almost died more times than I can count trying to help Savannah. You don't have to explain anything to me. I get it." I would have been there with him, if I had to.

"Yeah, but you're insane." He played with my hair, trying to distract himself from what he had done. And then because I was grateful he hadn't asked—I would have been in here too fast and there was already too little of me left to lose—I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in his chest. "In case no one else says it...just so you know...thank you," I muttered.

"You really are an idiot, Gillian." But it hurt, how tightly he was holding me.

It was a new feeling, to be the one who wasn't breaking, to be the one who was doing the holding together. A new but not unpleasant feeling.

Footsteps came from behind him. I looked up to see a rather pale Mr. Cortez staring at us, so I pulled away, feeling embarrassed. There were important things to do, after all. I hadn't even asked:

"So what did you guys find out?"

They told me a name. It meant nothing. But when they repeated it to Sean and Paige when we all got outside, Sean turned white.

"Impossible," he declared.

"Are you sure?" Paige asked, just because he looked that freaked out.

Edmund Eisenberg. Even as they went around talking about what a crisis this was, how it was going to be an international incident if he really was involved, the Nasts also sort of believed it. The Eisenbergs had been loose cannons for a while.

"His wife is a necromancer," Sean pointed out. "She would have been able to help him open the time tear."

And after all, hadn't Leech been caught by Mariah Eisenberg in the garage? It could have simply because she didn't like Leech or it could have been merely a distraction, so that her husband could take Savannah out.

"They could have taken out the clairvoyant, too," Bryce said. "Neither one of them had any contact with Pierre up to that night, but Edmund would know which rooms we had told Pierre not to look into and no one sure as hell would have thought to have the Eisenbergs examined beforehand."

"They're that high up in your organization?"

"Edmund's family has worked for us since the sixteenth century. Mariah's for the last two hundred years. They're high up." Bryce may have believed it, but he didn't accept it. "There's no fucking way the two of them would go rogue, they've been with us too long."

"Maybe they didn't," Sean suggested. "Maybe they're acting on orders."

"Grandpa wouldn't do that."

Lucas gave a better reason than just blind loyalty. "Savannah is our ward. There's always the chance that I could bring in my father's Cabal. Thomas wouldn't risk a civil war and the carnage that would create just to kidnap her."

"Yes, he would. But he didn't. He would have brought me in on something like that."

"And the men from the time tear didn't seem that concerned with keeping you alive just now," I pointed out. "No way your grandfather would risk you." Not until he had reproduced.

"The demon seemed keen to keep Gillian alive just now," Paige observed.

"I was never there before," I said mindlessly, repeating Foras' last words to me, even as I thought back to the time tear, to the things I had seen. And back to Moloch and his belief that no one could truly control the time tear...did the Eisenberg's show me what I had seen, or were they less in control than they thought? Then again, the men of Twelve-Thirteen hadn't been scared to die. They hadn't been hopeless, but they hadn't been scared. How many times did you have to die before it became a relief? How many lives did you have to live before having cigarettes put out on your body became fun?

"They've always left us alive," Bryce admitted. "Fuck, they really did. They were too easy to lose. Even when I got shot—not that I noticed at the time, because some idiot didn't bother to get off me even though I was bleeding to death—"

"I panicked," I snapped. But my anger fled as I realized what he meant. "They had us pinned, didn't they?"

"Like rats. They knew we were in the general area. All they had to do was patiently start sweeping. It wouldn't have taken long for them to find us. And instead they clear out? No, they didn't want us dead. It still doesn't mean Grandpa's involved," he added quickly. "Hell, that they haven't targeted the witch means he's not involved."

Reassuring.

"What about when they tried to kill Gillian the first time? Did something change between then and when she met up with you?"

Lucas and Paige really were the perfect team. No sooner had Lucas asked the question, than Paige had sort of figured out the answer. "What did the sorcerer look like?"

I had been trying not to think about what had happened at the club since that night, but now I was back there, watching the arms being ripped off another human being. But before then...before when I was just flirting with Ryan, pretending that I wasn't worrying about Savannah, there was a sorcerer, with eyes that saw right through me. A sorcerer...and maybe it wasn't such a coincidence anymore.

"He was old, with a bit of white in his beard and dark, messy eyebrows. A bit tan, funny ears..."

"He's Lucas's age," Sean said.

"Curly hair," Bryce supplied.

Zachery.

"He saved my life," I muttered. Then I started to get angry. "He drove me home and told me to get out of town. I thought he was helping me and he set the demon on me? The fucking bastard. He said—I really am an idiot." I put my head in my hands, trying to stop being so incredibly angry. Why would they do something like that? I already had enough nightmares, thank you very much. "Asshole."

The demon attack had left me crazy desperate enough to go see Sean when Savannah asked me to. Since this had to be about the Nasts, I had yet another thing I could blame them for. For some reason, I was not excited.

"Do you two have any ideas why they would kidnap Savannah?" Paige asked the Nast brothers.

"Kidnapping Savannah doesn't even begin to make up for putting a bullet in me, killing the clairvoyant and opening a time tear without permission on Nast property." Bryce shrugged. "Maybe they just finally went off the deep end."

"He seemed sane enough," I said. Someone had to be helpful. "Rude and condescending, but sane."

"They haven't been sane since...that could be it," Sean mumbled. "They used to have son. The company was a little insensitive after he died and Mariah never really forgave us for it. You could tell."

"So they should have filed a complaint," Bryce interrupted. "It wasn't our fault the kid died, and it sure wasn't our fault Hollis is a freaking moron. They should have gotten over it."

"You don't just get over that kind of stuff!"

"Sorry. I forgot. Someone dies and you just go out and fuck the most inappropriate person you can find."

And for once, I don't think he was thinking about making a joke at my expense.

"You sound like Grandpa."

"One of us has to."

"And you two might want to continue this conversation in private," I finished.

Paige helped me out. "You think the son has something to do with it?"

When Sean nodded, Lucas addressed me: "What did you say Penelope Yi did?"

Well, I was clearly the idiot here. "I think I have the kid's death certificate. It was with the grimoires. That's why they need Savannah. If I needed to perform really powerful healing spells, she's the one I'd get."

"And screwing over Grandpa is just for fun?"

"If they asked politely, I'm sure they could get lots of people to volunteer," I said. I'd be first in line. "Minions occasionally get pissed when you treat them like pond scum everyday for years. That's what I've heard, anyways."

Lucas spoke up: "Where can we find them?"

"If Grandpa finds out about this...we'd be taking the Eisenbergs on over Savannah. He won't like that at all," Sean said.

"Actually, it might be better if we brought Grandpa in on this. We'd be able to push further if we have his backing."

"And how in the world could we get Grandpa to agree to investigate some of his most trusted employees so we could save the granddaughter he won't awknolwedge?"

Bryce didn't answer and Sean moved on, while I studiously tried to ignore the younger Nast. There was no way he was thinking what I thought he was thinking, and if he was I was going to stab him. Fake pregnancy never sounded like a good idea. Ever.

Maybe when it could help Savannah.

And wow, I was an idiot.

The group of them decided to start with the Eisenbergs home. If they were really lucky, maybe our new least favorite sorcerer and necromancer team would even be home. Weirder things had happened.

There was still the problem of what to do with me—being injured, I was just a liability at this point. Everyone offered to take me to a doctor, but it was clear they were all eager to do some non-murderous investigating. Finally, Paulson was ordered to stay with me while Bryce stayed with Sean's bodyguards. Grant would have protested but Bryce silently demanded I hold my tongue and it really didn't occur to Paulson that Thomas Nast would have all of us executed for agreeing to this. That Lucas didn't protest meant torturing people was not nearly as easy as the Cabals liked to pretend.

Paige performed one last spell on my foot to help with the pain while Sean gave Lucas directions to the Eisenbergs' house and Bryce gave Paulson a list of orders. Paige finished up. "There. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine."

"Have you been with Bryce long?"

What a question that was. She wanted to know why I was acting the way I was. She was asking me for an excuse. The trouble was I couldn't give her one. It wasn't his fault I was the way I was; it was actually Savannah's fault I finally had to show Paige more than she was able to handle. Once this was over, I was going to have to get used to the idea that she wouldn't be there for me anymore. But I couldn't deal with that now, so I just focused on her actual question.

"I've known him for a week."

Her face fell slightly. She couldn't blame him now. So she switched to the other thing that was bothering her. "If we're taking the visions from the time tear as really oblique warnings, I hope you're being careful."

"Don't worry, Paige. We're sticking to oral sex."

She didn't even crack a smile. Right—I was the little sister she could save to make up for not being there. I didn't get to make jokes like that.

"I'm going to go over Yi's grimoires more carefully. I'll call you if I find anything," I promised.

She nodded and Paulson picked me up and brought me to the driver's side. It was only when we sat down in Bryce's car that Paulson told me our destination. "Mr Nast wants me to take you to the necromancer's house. He says he'll call in Mrs Patel to look after you—she can fix your ankle and...Mr. Nast said she could fix...that is—she could fix you."

"What—oh." It made sense, there was even a sign from a future that birth control was very important. My ankle twitched again, reminding me that I was never going to get back on the team. But it would be worth it.

It was worth it. Lucas was still alive.

Now we just had to find Savannah.

When we arrived at Leech's house, Paulson climbed out of the car and came around to carry me out of the car without any sort of warning. But because Bryce wasn't around, I told him he could just give me his elbow.

He considered this for a long moment. "Grant would still carry you."

"Grant's also worked for Bryce for twenty years. Do you really want to be like Grant?"

Paulson walked me to the door, so I guess the answer was no. I was almost disappointed. I wanted to be like Grant—not the catering to Bryce's every whim part, but the self-assuredness that he had while doing so. Grant took pride in doing his job well. I wanted that sense of purpose.

After I knocked on the door, it took a moment for someone to answer—it was strange, actually, knocking on the front door, usually I just broke in—but it wasn't Leech who appeared.

"It's lovely to see you again, Gillian," Nadira said, pleasant smile firmly in place. "Put her in the living room, on the couch. I've set up my equipment over there. I'll be right with you, I just have to talk to Martin."

I could feel Paulson tense, upset to once again be in the traitor's house. That's why I told him he could stay out in the gazebo until I was finished. He agreed that was for the best. There was probably something wrong with me. Shouldn't I have been upset with Paulson for being so hateful towards Leech? But I didn't. We all had strange, irrational hatreds that we couldn't control. At least he was able to act professional most of the time. Hadn't I tried to call Thomas Nast a Nazi on his birthday?

Leech entered the room just as Paulson was leaving. I could hear the click of Nadira's shoes, but I couldn't see her behind the big man. He quickly began to speak.

"So I called Hollis," he explained. "And he's still looking into it. But he gave me a brief overview of the time tear legends. Once they're closed, minute effects tend to undo themselves, like Bryce's arm. But each time people encounter it, what it shows seems to differ. Sometimes it shows the idealized future, others a sort of nightmare version. Sometimes it's set in stone, other times its just possibilities—there were quite a few cases where the actions taken to prevent it made it occur. Sometimes nothing seen comes true. Sometimes it just shows the past, or present, or future. Sometimes—"

"So basically you don't know," I interrupted.

"Basically. All that stuff from the demon seems pretty true, how it gives you power over anything that passes through it. More stuff that you already know. Umm, though it seems that it it's a lot easier to close than it is to open. There haven't been that many recorded incidents of multiple uses of the same time tear, though. I looked and I couldn't find anything. The most I found was two, though I don't see why you couldn't just keep going through until you got the future you wanted."

He went through some potential ideas on how one might open a time tear, and how you would control it. I told him to start making lists, to see if the Cortezes could find some leads among the theories. We went back and forth as Nadira began to examine my ankle. It was all only theory of course. It wasn't like we could actually go out and test our ideas. Time tears were far too dangerous for that. But the possibilities were exciting—the power to play god always was.

"That's all I have," he finally admitted. "But—"

"Martin," Nadira said quietly, standing up. My ankle felt a lot better, though the bandages made it look twice the size as normal. She placed her hands on his arm, trying to will her calm into him. "It's not your fault."

He jerked away, but I still would have known that he didn't believe it. I don't think he had stopped researching since Bryce and I had taken off the night before. He was always blinking, trying to keep us in focus. It made sense he would blame himself for Savannah; not that I would have admitted as much, but a tiny part of me did, too. It was the same part that would have Tia's boyfriend forever wondering why he didn't wait those extra ten seconds to watch her close the door behind her. It wasn't fair, but that didn't mean it would go away.

But I had seen where that kind of guilt could lead to in Leech and it scared me. Even now that I knew that the good guy vibe he exuded hid deeds I wouldn't think about, I wouldn't stand by and let that happen.

I didn't stay silent. "She's right and Savannah would be the first to agree. She's a big girl, she didn't need you watching out for her. If someone took her out, it means they had to be pretty damn powerful and even if you'd been there it wouldn't have helped."

"Because I'm just a useless human," he muttered. The words Savannah had apologized for—too late—made me shiver and Nadira hurried over to make sure I was all right. I used her to help me stand up instead.

"Leech, I'm hurt and scared and just a little pissed off. You don't get to disagree with me. It's not your fault. And if you feel useless, find a way you can help. The research so far is good. Maybe you could call up Hollis again and ask for more information on Mariah. Or maybe you could start trying to find out for sure if you can use it as many times as you want. But only if you want to help. Don't do it because you feel guilty—because there's nothing to feel guilty for."

I don't think he believed me (I didn't believe me), but he tried to smile. "Hollis would know about Mariah than anyone else on the planet. I'll call him."

He hurried from the room and I sat down quickly. My leg still hurt and I was tired of this whole mess. Where was Savannah? Nadira quickly pushed my back down and got a blanket. "Bryce also mentioned I might be able to help you with some other health concerns."

I blushed a little. "It wouldn't be permanent, would it? Because I don't want it if it's permanent."

"It would have to be performed once a month to be safe. Long-term effects are non-existent. I can do it easily. Now if you want."

"That would be good."

Nadira rested her hand on my chest and closed her eyes, feeling the rhythms of my body. Her hand stayed there much longer than I had expected it to and I was more than a little surprised when she tucked my hair behind my ear and bent over, glancing behind her to make sure we're alone. I cast a privacy spell, because there was no way Paulson wasn't still listening.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I...I'm not the best shaman out there. People think I'm an idiot. If I screwed this up, no one would blink. No one would think it wasn't an accident."

I really hated Cabals.

"Nadira? I think I might have a concussion. Could you check that out?"

"They'd give you anything to make you disappear. Anything you ever wanted. Just ask me to make a mistake and it can all be yours."

"Minus your ten percent cut, of course."

She actually looked affronted. It was the early twenty-first century, she was talking about trapping someone like it was something she did every Tuesday, and she looked insulted right now. "I don't want anything. Just..."

Ultimate cosmic power. I knew the drill.

"You'd just have to ask Bryce to do something for you. He won't listen to anyone else, but he's traditional enough that he'd listen to the mother of his child."

My eyes were threatening to roll out of my head. "He has the power to reinstate you?"

"No. Of course not. Gillian, I'm not offering you this because it will help me. You have to believe me. I just want to help. A little favour, for giving you everything. It would be a fair deal. All you would have to do is ask him to quit."

We sat in silence for a moment, as I waited for the punch line. Then I realized my life was the punch line.

"You could always just tell him you don't think he should be working for his family."

"I have." Now I wasn't the only one rolling my eyes. "I have told him multiple times. In the two languages I know. He does not listen. He never listens—and not just because he doesn't know Hindi. But you could make him listen. It's been so long since he's been anything but bored that I think he'd listen if you asked him to quit."

"Even if I agreed—" And I wasn't going to. I liked to flirt with morally questionable actions, not actually commit to them. "—it's a dumb plan in general. If I make him quit, I get less money. And since money seems like the only reason I should agree to this, it doesn't sound like a good idea."

"Just make sure you get what you want before he quits. You'd only have to stay with him for a little while; then you just leave the child and take the settlement. I'd help him and he'd forget about you quickly enough and then finally...he could finally be happy."

Her amber eyes gazed up at me, so imploringly I almost blurted out my agreement anyway. In an utterly twisted, completely sick way, it was sort of kind of beautiful.

"No. I'll see what I can do," I found myself promising, just to stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes, "But it won't be that way. No children. But...I'll work on it."

"Thank you," she said. I think it was enough. "Shall I begin the procedure properly then?"

"If you don't mind."

I broke the privacy spell as she got up and went to gather the supplies she had laid out on the table. She began mixing something in a big bowl, glancing down at the ingredients carefully before she poured them in. She always did look like she was studying something. Maybe that's why I couldn't help but ask,

"So, how many times have you slept with Bryce?"

"Only twice. And two halves."

"Halves?"

"Half as in his roommate walked in and it just got too awkward. Half because we might have been drunk out of our minds, but even drunk, guys don't find it attractive when you're crying, no matter how much you throw yourself at them."

"He made you cry?"

She shook her head, but the smile dimmed a little. "I had been crying a lot then. It... it would have been a mistake. So we didn't make it. Both times we succeeded were in college. Once before the roommate walked in. And once before my wedding because we didn't think we'd ever have the chance again."

The smile dimmed a little bit more as she remembered she could very well have sex with whoever the hell she wanted. I wasn't good at the comforting people thing, but I reached over and touched her arm. She smiled a little awkwardly and sighed, hands on my belly.

"You know about my husband? Or just his age?"

"Bryce said you were soul mates anyway."

Nadira laughed, black hair dancing along her shoulders. "He would. That man is the only one who ever believed I was in love with the old coot and that was only because he privately suspects that my parents dropped me on my head as child and so I couldn't know better."

"You're a doctor. How dumb can he think you are?"

"I received my medical training in India. I'm not really a doctor." She caught the slightly awkward expression on my face. "I'm allowed to say that. You're just not allowed to agree. I wouldn't have become a doctor if I had stayed here, so I guess it was a good thing Papa wanted me at home before the wedding. He was very lucky, it was rather risky having me at home and then arranging my marriage. I could have made his life miserable if I hadn't approved."

She looked at me eagerly, waiting for me to ask her something. If she wanted to tell me her life story it was a small price to pay for all the help she was giving.

"Your father picked out your husband?"

"Oh no. My father and my husband arranged for me to marry his grandson." She grinned and I got why she and Bryce were friends. Because there was no embarrassment on her face. She had found what she wanted and she had managed to get it. Her only regret was that it hadn't lasted longer. "But I met Balan and we both knew that it was a mistake. We got married instead. My family was a little scandalized of course and Param—that was my fiancée—was a little upset, but I didn't care. Balan and I, we were..."

"Perfect for each other?"

Her hands on my stomach began to massage, trying to get me to relax. She undid the top of my jeans, rolled them down and began putting something sticky on my skin. It was disgusting. "No. There is no perfection, especially not in marriage. There are his faults and your faults and only the small hope that they can exist together. The two of us worked together beautifully because we happened to be exactly what each other wanted."

"Cold," I whimpered my belly began to freeze.

"That's what you want. Leave it like that for the next hour and you should be fine for the month. I climbed Mt. Everest, you know. For our second anniversary. He came with me, so we only made it part of the way up, but it was still the most romantic thing."

Nadira sat up suddenly, shaking her head. "You shouldn't let me do that. I'm liable to never stop." She fixed her hair nervously as she collected herself.

"Martin is rather too upset to bother with me, so I guess I have to take it out on you. I've very sorry, but it's so nice to meet...someone. I'll get you some tea. It'll warm you up."

She hurried from the room, leaving me alone, shivering on the couch. Even in my self-imposed exile form humanity, I don't think I had ever been that lonely. I always had Savannah and to a lesser extent, Paige. I closed my eyes and hoped the Cortezes had found her locked in a secret room at the Eisenberg's house, pissed that the rescue had taken so long.

I think I knew everything about Nadira by the time we had finished our two hour dinner. Leech didn't bother to hide how he would much rather be researching but Nadira effectively held him prisoner in the kitchen as she talked on and on. It was less annoying than it should have been. She was funny and charming and as we didn't talk about the dead husband she was always carefully composed.

It was her idea to call Bryce around ten. I had been wanting to, but I figured that he would have called if they had found her and anything else I wasn't that eager to hear. Plus, I didn't know his number.

Nadira did. She talked for a few minutes and then handed over the phone, eyes full of pity, warning me that Savannah hadn't been found. I took the phone and asked, "There's absolutely no news?"

"The house was deserted. It was a fucking tomb," Bryce complained.

"So what's the plan?"

"Because there is a multinational cooperation that has to be run, I have voluntarily relinquished my vacation time, allowing my brother to lead however many search and rescue attempts as he wishes."

"So you're running the company while he goes off and saves the day?"

"Assists the Cortezes in saving the day. My brother is good at the helping. The actual saving might be beyond him."

"But the Cortezes have a plan?"

"I think so. Not that they're telling me much at this point, but they keep writing these lists out, so I figure they must have some idea what they're doing. It doesn't matter. Tomorrow is my last day of helping and all they have me doing is driving them out to the Eisenberg's beach house."

"And me?"

"Paige has brought in a whole bunch of books. So has Sean. I volunteered you to go through them all, find a tracking spell or something."

"Thanks." I wasn't sure if I meant it or not, but at least I was doing something. My stomach was cramping like I couldn't believe, but Nadira said it was too be expected. She should have told me that before.

"I think I figured out why they had you shot," I said.

"Not just to piss off my grandfather?"

"Maybe. Maybe that's why you die later." It would be a quick way to get back at Thomas, as well as making the family desperate to protect all the heirs, even if one had the unfortunate distinction of having a witch for a mother. "But I think they shot you so you'd go to Nadira to fix you up."

"Dira? She—do you think they want me to get caught talking to her?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I just think she's the reason you were shot. Because they wanted to make sure the two of you were in touch." For all I knew she could have just amplified my fertility; being Bryce's friend just meant she could be as dangerous as she wanted to be. "She loves you, you know."

"I would have preferred if you sounded just a little bit jealous, but okay. Whatever you say."

But he knew. And he loved her back. So he would kill Keller for her and she'd try and leverage me against him, because they were family and they were supposed to have each other's backs. Even if being Cabal brats meant they could only show it in ways that were twisted beyond belief.

"It's incredible how your mommy issues make my mommy issues seem normal," I teased.

"Shut up, Gillian." He changed the subject. "I've rented a room down here, so I don't have to watch Leech feel guilty about breathing. And so my brother doesn't worry that I've snuck out in the middle of the night to sell him down the river."

"I'm sure Sean's not thinking about that."

Bryce snorted and said something that I couldn't hear. A voice answered. Grant, I think. Bryce chortled and turned back to me. "Anyway, you're welcome to stay here. I probably won't be around much—there's a fucking cot in my office that has my name on it—and it's probably the nicest hotel you'll ever be in."

"With you offering so politely, how can I refuse? Seriously, Bryce, if you want me to be your whore, just come out and ask."

"I want you downtown so that my brother's keeping an eye on you when I can't. And if I happened to get laid, so much the better. Seriously, Gillian, if you don't want me around, just say so. My offer doesn't have to come with strings if you don't want them. But you're not staying in the House of Gloom in the middle of nowhere with only Paulson for protection. That idiot couldn't stop a threat if it tied itself up in handcuffs first."

"You wouldn't have hired him if he was that bad."

"You wouldn't believe how fast Grant gets rid of his partners—there wasn't anyone else. That's not the point. You're moving in here tomorrow. The only question is whether I'm allowed to visit when you do."

The pain in my stomach lessened a little, though it still hurt enough to remind me that I was actively doing something for the express purpose of being able to sleep with Bryce. "Like that's even a question."

"With a welcome like that, how can I refuse?"

"Shut up." I rolled over. "Don't actually stay in your office, okay? That can't be healthy.

"Speaking of my office, I've arranged to have a meeting with the Board of Directors to explain this whole mess to them on Monday. The situation with the clairvoyant has them pretty busy, but they'll offer Nast resources when I mention the Cortezes are starting to mutter it was our fault. I need you to come with me."

"You asking me to walk into the Nast office and meet the entire anti-witch board of directors?" I demanded. "You're fucking crazy."

"I'll pick you up at eight thirty then?"

I knew he would be grinning and had to actively resist the urge to drive over there and hit him. "Why do I have to come?"

"The Cortezes are busy but we need someone to represent their interests. And Grandpa already doesn't like you. If I promise to ditch you, it might be enough to get him to agree to help with the investigation."

"You giving up on our love, Bryce?"

"Putting a price on it," he admitted. "You are an excellent bargaining tool."

"I really don't think I'm the tool in this partnership." I sighed and leaned back on the couch. "Bryce? What if that's not enough to get him to agree?"

"I..." This time he sighed. "We'd tell him your pregnant. In exchange for me not quitting and taking the future heir to the company with me, he helps Savannah. After we find her, we'll tell him you've miscarried. And when we don't see each other again, we can blame it on that."

"And this won't get me killed?"

"I'm sure I can protect you. Grant won't leave your side, even if it means leaving mine. I can get Alba to help, too, I think, which will make getting Grandpa to believe us easier. But, Gillian, this one's your call. It would be your neck so...think about it."

"Okay."

"Seriously. Gillian," it was now a warning. "Don't do what you usually do and go for the stupid option because you think it'll get you killed fastest. Try and think this over and figure out if you can handle this."

I was almost touched. Not to mention freaked out beyond belief because no matter how much he warned me, I was still going to end up agreeing because his plan was so damn crazy and I could never resist. So I panicked and tried to hit him where it hurt.

"That sounds rather sweet, Bryce. Poetic even."

"Shut up, Gillian."

"You should come over here and make me."

It was supposed to be teasing, and not that kind of teasing, but it came out more of a purr than anything. He made a sound, deep in his throat and I shivered; suddenly the conversation wasn't going where I had intended it to. And that was perfect.

"And how should I do that?"

I loved his voice, the way it could warm me up even over the phone. Unconsciously, my legs crossed, heat trapped between them. "I've got a couple of ideas. Want to hear them?"

He didn't answer, or at least, not the way I wanted him to. Someone said something in the background—I had forgotten about Grant, which was his purpose, but still—and then there were sounds of someone else entering. They were talking about quadrants and searching and all these technical things that I didn't know about, but could translate into meaning Savannah hadn't been found yet without an interpreter.

When Bryce spoke again, it was only to ask, "Do you want to talk to Paige?"

"Not really," I sighed. "I need you to tell me we're going to find her. I need to know—I have to find her, Bryce."

"We're going to find her," he promised.

It shouldn't have made me feel better. It was just another empty assurance in a life that had heard so many of them. But not everyone had that sort of confidence. My voice was only breaking a tiny bit when I asked,

"What happens if we don't?"

"Not an option. You know how I always get what I want, Gillian? I want to personally strangle my sister for all this crap she's putting me through. Ergo we will find her and she will be alive."

"You're horrible at comforting people," I informed him.

"Really? I thought that sounded pretty good."

"Nope."

"Shouldn't you give me a break, considering it was my first time?"

"Nope."

"I don't even get multiple syllables anymore?"

"Nope."

"God, your mouth is annoying."

"You like my mouth."

"A little bit," he admitted. "I have to go. Sean's coming. Make sure Leech doesn't kill himself, won't you?"

He tried to keep the request light, but he couldn't hide how serious he was.

"I'll try."

"We will find her, Gillian. I promise."

"Thank you," I whispered. "Good night."

He said good-bye. I held the phone for a long while after, willing it to ring, for him to call me back and tell me they had found her. It didn't happen.