Chapter 31

I woke up covered by a blanket, but when I thanked Leech he just morosely told me that Paulson was going to take me to the hotel, so that I could continue researching without him. Nadira threatened to withhold food if he didn't stop with the self-pity, but I don't think it worked. He promised not to do anything too stupid and then Paulson brought me over to the hotel.

Paige and Lucas needed a place to stay and Sean had been eager to help where he could, even getting them a discount—he did live in the hotel, after all. The Cortezes had been planning to go back to Portland the second Thomas's party was over, but had now settled in so it looked like they would never leave. Paige had an entire library in her room and I eagerly got to work, making notes on anything remotely relevant. I also had Sean send someone over for the forgotten grimoires at my house, both Savannah's and Penelope Yi's.

Paige and Mr Cortez had also done some reading, so I was able to tackle the piles with a few notes beside me. The notes weren't that great, though, clearly written by people who were distracted. They were still the most impressive people I'd seen under pressure, don't get me wrong. But even in the few minutes where they welcomed me in and set me on their books, I could tell there was a desperation in their movements that wasn't usually there. Sure, they helped the hopeless all the time, but Savannah wasn't the usual client. They loved her too much to be able to be completely objective. But terrified out of their minds or not, they were still the best, suggesting ideas for some of the walls they suspected I would hit.

The only people I saw all day were Paulson and Fitz, Sean's bodyguard who had been left behind to man the phones. Grant, I was given to understand, had gone with Bryce. Paulson dropped off a key to a room down the hall during the day and I took it with only the faintest blush. Leaving me in Fitz's care, Paulson went to pick up my stuff from the variety of houses I had left it at to dispose in my new bedroom.

Fitz and I stayed out of each other's way as he answered the phone and I read big musty tombs. It wasn't long before I had traced the spell Foras had been attempting to an ancient ritual designed to bestow protection against violence for someone in a distant land. So the Eisenbergs had been counting on protection that hadn't come through. So sad. Now why they would want a protection spell was the question. Maybe for when Thomas Nast lost his shit.

After that, I looked into a spell that Paige had read a long time ago that might be able be able to bolster the connection between Savannah and me, allowing us to communicate. It made me aware of the fundamental difference between the Cortez and the Nast way of thinking. Bryce had been looking for who had taken Savannah—Paige was looking for Savannah. Both were assuming solving one would solve the other but they were going about it differently. Which way did I like better? Human sacrifice or human librarian? I just was grateful they let me stay.

The problem with most communication spells was that we needed Savannah to be able to cast them. And that just wasn't happening. But it gave me an idea...

If we could modify the spell, change it so that it would include a group, maybe Savannah could be included by default. There was something about a group spell in a book Savannah had once shown me, and after lunch Paulson returned with the grimoires.

There was a long distance healing spell, one designed to specifically center on the desired person. It might be adaptable, somehow. I had never tried changing a spell that powerful, but the change wasn't that drastic, so it might work. I was just changing the purpose of the spell. So we would be stuck using the people suggested by the healing spell, the closest—

"Are you all right, Gillian?" Paulson asked as he came to take out the lunch tray I had barely touched. The Cabals didn't want any humans poking around, which left the bodyguards playing maid.

I could only blink, then smile and hastily cover the page I had been reading. It was impossible, so I might as well move on. "I'm fine. Did they find anything yet?"

"Nothing. It sounds like it's been abandoned for a while. They're heading back now."

"Thank you," I muttered, my mind still on the spell. We needed family. Not the kind that Savannah had created for herself, either, a hodgepodge of powerful supernaturals that would die for her. We needed flesh and blood, the kinds of bonds that might not really exist, but that magic picked up on anyway. There was just a small problem.

Neither one of us had any.

I was sure the Nast brothers would help—Sean no matter what, Bryce once I explained—but I didn't think they could. The half part of the half-brother title might interfere. And I didn't think Savannah had anyone else, at least not with the same blood.

And as for me...my mother had died the second Dana walked out that door. She had died when she insisted Dana would come back, after she had her little bit of fun. She had died when the sorcerer came to our door and told her Dana needed us in Miami and she shut the door in his face. I had no mother, no father and no sister. I was alone.

Except for Savannah.

That had been Paige's plan from the start. She had never disguised the fact that she wanted the two of us to be sisters, to be as close as the bonds of magic could take us. But I had protested.

It couldn't be that simple. I had a sister once, who giggled and flipped her long hair over her shoulder when her boyfriend walked by. Dana couldn't do any magic. My sister couldn't be some dark haired, exotic-looking, power-hungry, grimoire-chasing, trash-talking witch who ripped her way into unknown dimensions.

I had a sister who had left me behind. I didn't want any more sisters.

But I needed Savannah back anyway. How was I going to do that?

Paulson held out the phone and I took it without thinking. "Hello?"

"Gillian?" Paige's voice cracked on the cell phone, the reception shaky. "Have you found anything?"

If I hesitated, it wasn't long enough for Paige to notice. "We need blood family members. There's this spell I think I can modify and we might be able to talk to her. The only problem is it requires family, and I don't think Sean will be good enough. This stuff works better if you use either the parents or the children, and since she doesn't have either..."

"Would Margaret Levine work?" Paige offered. "She's her great-aunt."

That wasn't ideal, but it could work. It was better to go up in the family tree, though that far up might prove difficult. Still, I knew about Paige's issues with her Coven and I knew then how selfish I was being. It was just...it didn't matter. I had to. "Maybe. And we'll need my mother."

Paige froze because she knew what that meant to me. "Are you sure?"

I nodded miserably. But my emotional trauma meant nothing at all with Savannah still missing. I forced the word from my mouth. "Yes."

"We can have someone try and bring her over from Georgia tonight. That should give us plenty of time."

All I seemed to be able to do was move my head up and down. And then I realized what I was doing. "No. Someone shows up from the Cortezes she'll slam the door in their face. I'll get Bryce to—" Oh god. It wasn't fair. What did I ever do to deserve showing her off? "—to, umm, yeah. The Nasts should pick her up."

"You sure Gillian?"

No. "Yes. You can't be the one to get her. Could you put Bryce on the line, please?"

She did as I asked. Why did she have to do that? Bryce came on a second later, completely nonchalant.

"Did you find something or are you half-hysterical? Because the witch would be better at handling that."

"I found something."

"Go ahead."

How did he manage to switch from callous jerk to alert businessman in the time it took me to breathe? It wasn't fair. But I explained the gist of my idea to him, and then asked a few questions about the rhythm of the spell. He didn't seem to like that.

"It'll be better to do this in person," he said. "There's too much static on this phone. If you want me to be that precise, we're going to need better reception."

"All right, but we should have it ready for tomorrow. Paige is bringing Margaret Levine in. I'm going to need you to send someone to bring my mother to California. The Cortezes would do it, but she wouldn't take work from them no matter what they offered. She's still back in Georgia, so you should get someone on that as soon as possible."

"You don't sound happy about this," Bryce commented. "I would have thought you would be getting off on more dangerous magic that is far out of your league."

"Just send someone to get my mother."

"Grant can—"

"Not Grant." I sat up on the bed quickly and almost sprained something. "Don't send him. Send—don't send anyone I know. Please, Bryce. Not anyone who I might ever have to talk to."

"Why not?" As he spoke, I tried to calm myself down, telling myself I was being stupid. Who cared what Nast employees thought of me? I cared. They were my people and if they looked down on me, there wasn't any place left for me to go. Bryce was demanding, "Why not, Gillian? I can't fix this if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"I just don't want them to meet her," I whispered. "She's not...she's just...I don't want them to think I'm anything like her...or that maybe she was right, that maybe if she hadn't had kids..."

Static came over the phone for an instant and I thought I had lost him. When it cleared up, Bryce announced: "Shut up, Gillian. If I wanted that kind of crap, I'd watch Dr. Phil. So she hates you? So what? We'll drag her over here and make her an offer she can't refuse."

"Give her anything she wants? Yeah, that'll make me feel better."

"You're going to make her help you help Savannah. And since she hates you, it'll just piss her off."

"She doesn't hate me." I didn't hate her. I never could, even when I did.

"I'll have one of Sean's men go pick her up. They're the most considerate, discrete guys in the company. They'll get her into town somehow. Do you want me to speak to her or should Paige go?"

"She won't talk to a Cortez. But I want to be there when you talk to her." There was no way I was letting Bryce meet my mother without me present.

"Fine."

I promised to keep researching and he said they were going to some places that friends of the Cortezes had mentioned and would be probably be back later. When I teased him about being a tour guide, he hung up. I turned back to the books.

The Cortezes came in around nine to find me still on their bed, a pile of handwritten notes beside me. There was still a few places that I was a little unsure, but for the most part I thought the spell would work. They had nothing to report, except that they were going out again soon, so I brought up something that had been bothering me since I had hung up with Bryce.

"It might be better if we used Thomas Nast for the spell."

Lucas blinked at me, probably the greatest sign of surprise he knew how to make. "That is not a feasible option, Gillian."

Bryce and I hadn't mentioned his (or would it be more accurate to say the time tears?) idea to anyone else. But even if we did manage to get Thomas to agree to not stop the investigation, I wasn't sure what we would have to promise to get him to sit down across from me again to actively help his granddaughter. So I said nothing to the Cortezes about Thomas or fake pregnancies, and just went over the ingredients I would need for the spell the next day. They promised to come through. Paige was already not looking forward to the conversation with Margaret, but she managed a smile. I didn't wait for them to change their minds, just told them Bryce had paid for a separate room for me and I would leave them alone. They were too tired to protest.

Grant was by the door, down the hall, which is how I knew that Bryce was already inside. I smiled at Grant and asked, "Don't you ever get charged for loitering?"

"Only once and the cop never worked in this city again," he said without a smile. "Should I be making plans to stay here tonight?"

"You're just as presumptuous as your boss, aren't you? Do you ever sleep, Grant?"

"The room next door has been fitted for us to sleep in. And Mr Leech has a cot in his attic."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine, Miss MacArthur. I believe I asked first."

"Go to sleep, Grant. You too, Paulson, wherever you are. I'm going to visit Nast headquarters tomorrow, so you're going to have to be on the top of your game."

Grant understood and disappeared inside to open the door. It was a lot easier than waiting for Bryce to get up and open the door. The room was just as bright as the hallway, but a little smaller than Paige's had been. Bryce was at the desk, on the hotel phone and staring at some papers. When I entered, he waved his cellphone at me and kept talking without missing a beat. I went over and picked up the cell. A hastily scrawled message was on the paper underneath: Call Leech.

I rolled my eyes at Bryce, who swatted me with the paper, to hurry me along. Not one to pass up such an opportunity, I sat down in one of the chairs and began looking through his contacts. I don't think I had met that many people my whole life. But to my surprise, most of them seemed to be men. Business partners, I assumed, or Sean wasn't the only brother hiding something... Bryce was still on the phone, so I was the only one amused by the joke. But at least he didn't have a whole list of old conquests. I don't think I would have handled that gracefully.

I was a little curious who the Great Satan was, but I didn't dare call the number to find out. For all I knew, he was being literal.

A quick search of Leech revealed the man's number and from there it didn't take long until I could hear ringing. He didn't have much to report. But I think it made him feel better to say everything so I let him. I had finished reassuring him, for the third time, when a loud snapping sound caught my attention. Glancing backwards, I saw Bryce gesturing for me to come over. "Hold on a second, his highness is calling."

Bryce was writing something, phone still pressed against his ear. "Basketball tickets?" I repeated. One good smack upside the head told him what I thought of the idea. Bryce didn't care. A tap on the paper reinforced his point and then he pulled me right onto his lap.

"My friend came through," Leech confirmed. "For Saturday. Tell him I'm not going if we haven't found Savannah by then."

"He's not going if we haven't found her by then." I shivered at the thought. She would go mental in that place if she was there over a week.

"I told you that's not possible," Bryce told the man on the phone. Meanwhile, proving the Cabal education made for the best multitaskers, he ran a hand up my leg.

"Bryce says thank you for the tickets. I have to go," I told Leech as a large hand moved to the inside of my thigh. "I'll talk to you soon."

The line went dead and I placed the cellphone on the desk and tried getting off of Bryce. It didn't work. His arm went around my waist and held me firmly in place. I could have struggled harder, I suppose, but I didn't want him damaged either. A moment later, he hung up and commenced kissing me.

"Wasn't I supposed to have a choice about whether you were here or not?" I teased as I turned to the side, for better access.

"I was only here to help you with the spell," he lied, hands running down my body to cup my ass. "But if you'd rather I didn't..."

He kissed me properly then and somehow managed to pick me right up without breaking it. Wrapping my arms around his neck for balance, I let him carry me to the bed. His lips were warm on my skin and goosebumps were quick to appear. But Savannah wasn't in the next room getting more and more annoyed at me. He let me roll us over.

"Spell then sex," I said, laying on top of him. I sealed my promise with a kiss.

"Sex then boring spell that we can do anytime?" he counter-offered.

"This has to be ready for tomorrow." Cabals used chartered planes. "I don't want to have everyone going to the trouble of dragging those witches here kicking and screaming only to have the spell flop. It has to work."

"As grateful as I am for the confidence, Gillian, even if I say I think it's going to work, doesn't mean it is."

"Like you would allow anything to defy you like that." I turned serious. "I just want you to check. Please?"

"Stop pouting. It makes you look five." But I didn't, not until he said, "Fine. We will look at your stupid spell. After."

I snorted. "There will be no after if you don't look at the spell."

"After we go downstairs," he corrected me. "I would have preferred to see you naked, but since that doesn't look like it's going to happen right now, I want to go downstairs. Lucas said something about their friends arriving tonight. I want to see them."

"What friends?"

"The werewolves."

It was rather obscene, the firepower Paige and Lucas had called in, even if it was necessary. Cabal employees were the best; we didn't have a hope of finding Savannah unless we had the best on our side too. I suspected they had called up every contact the interracial council had ever made. I just hadn't expected everyone to arrive so quickly. I guess that's what happened when you had friends and not just employees helping you out.

I was a little curious about why Bryce would care about the werewolves, but I was fangirlishly excited about seeing all the people I had heard Savannah talk about constantly in the past and so I didn't bother Bryce. I even let him pick our spot in the lobby, on a couch close to the front desk, but not close enough for the average person to hear us. I wasn't sure about werewolves.

Paige and Lucas were already down there, talking to an older woman with auburn hair who seemed rather unimpressed that she was standing in the lobby of one of the nicest hotels I had ever seen. Beside her was a golden god, with the nicest arms I had ever seen on a human being. Probably because he wasn't.

"I'm pretty sure those are the vampire delegates," I told my companion as he stretched out on the couch beside me. "Or maybe the guy's the shaman delegate. Savannah can never remember his name, but I've always wanted to see him."

"Kenneth. And that's not him."

"What?"

"His name is Kenneth," Bryce said stressing each syllable so I wouldn't miss it. "That's his name. But he sure as hell doesn't look like that. Now where the fuck are the werewolves?"

"How do you know that?"

Bryce rolled his eyes the way only a Cabal son can. That's how he knew...he could know everything if he so much as lifted a finger to find out. Then he gave me half a smile. "Alba met him once. Tried to...anyway, he fell asleep during her sales pitch. She's been half in love with him since."

"Shamans are weird."

"I grew up with 'Dira. You don't have to tell me." He sat up as a car pulled up and Adam Vasic climbed out of the back seat. "Is that them?"

"Must be." Someone had to have picked them up from the airport and I don't think Adam had done anything useful since joining up. "Bryce, why do you care? I mean, I'm interested because I'm thinking the werewolves will be a parade of salty goodness, but I doubt that's your interest."

"Strangely enough, no, it isn't. I just want to see them. Werewolves don't work for us, at least not Pack werewolves. I just...werewolves are cool."

He blushed, just a little, but I caught it. Trying not to giggle, I said, "I always preferred vampires, myself."

"They're so boring," he complained. "All they do is drink blood and look cool. Now, wolves—is that them?"

"Yup. The two blondes are Elena and Clay, beta wolves. They're awesome, according to Savannah. He's a little bit of psycho, from what I've heard. And she's married to him, so make what you will of that. The rest must have come in another car."

"They look a bit like..."

"Barbie and Ken?"

"Yeah," Bryce said, failing to keep the disappointment out of his voice. No wonder he lashed out. "I wonder how long that hair takes him to do."

"Be nice. Just because you're intimidated by him..."

"Please. Do you know how many psychos I know? Or am related to? You met Kane—he makes some of the others seem considerate."

"I meant because he's prettier than you."

And he was. Clayton Danvers—pack psychopath—looked like those statues the Romans stole from the Greeks because they were so gosh darn pretty. If the pretty-boy Greeks had been carrying two children. In his arms were the werewolf twins Savannah sometimes babysat, Logan and Kate. She thought Logan was an evil genius, waiting for his moment, and therefore totally awesome. Kate's energy tended to give Savannah a run for her money, and Savannah wasn't exactly fond of challengers, which is why I think she liked Kate best. Not that I told Bryce this. Twins, adorable or not, were not his concern.

Making fun of me was.

"You want to play step-mommy, Gillian?"

"Thankfully my Daddy issues do not have me chasing after actual daddies." Then, to make Bryce feel better (not that his ego needed it) I added, "Besides, he looks a little worn. I prefer non-wrinkled cradle robbers."

"Wrinkled or not, dude's still kind of beautiful."

The family was standing at the hotel desk, talking to Paige and Lucas, discussing accommodations. Thank goodness they were not paying attention to us.

"You should get Paige to introduce you."

"So is my Lamborghini," Bryce snapped. "It doesn't mean I want to fuck it, Gillian. And I especially don't want to talk to it."

"You just can't wait to get in it."

"I'm ignoring you," he announced. But his silence didn't last for more than a second. Another car must have pulled up, because a whole slew of people were coming in through the front door. "That's the Alpha. Right? The one with Jaime Vegas?"

Jaime Vegas had the distinction of being not only a powerful necromancer, but also one with the occasional television appearance. The Cabals kept tabs on her and everyone knew it, since she essentially went on television and announced her powers to humans. Not like she used them for her show. Savannah dragged me to one, once. They were more of the prey on the stupid and sentimental type than anything else. That's why the Cabals had left her alone. Now they left her alone because she was dating the leader of the North American Pack.

The werewolves had existed in a parallel world to the rest of us for a long time. Too ferocious for the discretion the Cabals required, the Pack had been ignored, at least, until recently. The interracial council had brought them in—and privately I suspected the Cabals were just waiting for them to be forced to deal with the eventual mess. Werewolves weren't like the rest of us. They couldn't pass, not convincingly, not for long. What purpose did it serve to train and tame a wild stallion when there was a donkey out back ready to work? Especially if the stallion had claws and teeth and the tendency to rip you to shreds? Better to stick with the half-demons and the necromancers...the species the sorcerers could dominate with certainty.

That Sean materialized out of nowhere to meet the werewolf Alpha, and that Bryce looked a little torn about whether he should do the same, probably said a lot about the man. My description to Bryce was slightly below the occasion.

"His name is Jeremy and he lives in New York. He taught Savannah a lot about what she knows about art. He does pretty well selling those pictures of wolves in cities or forests or wherever."

"Grandpa's got two. I should tell him the artist helped Savannah, see what he does." Since that was far too much of a coincidence, I had to glare at Bryce until he explained. "Grandpa likes art. And sucking up."

Now that I could believe.

"What about the two guys behind him?" he asked. "Brothers?"

"Father and son. The Sorrentinos. Sixteen years apart. Savannah used to warn me, that's what would happen if I wasn't careful. I'd have a daughter everyone would think was my sister."

Just like my mother.

"Nah. You're way too small. Wrinkles would show up on you pretty quick."

"Geez, Bryce. Thanks."

He ignored me. "Older one still looks like you might not want to pick a fight with him."

"Antonio's supposed to be tough. His Dad was Alpha, back when they did it by force, so he's got good genes."

"He gave it up, huh?" There was such a queerly speculative note in his voice that I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Everyone wants to take out the Alpha. Makes more sense to be the backup."

He snorted. "Backup has to take the bullets. They're all like Grant. They haven't stopped surrounding the Alpha, or his girlfriend, since they showed up. You attack the Alpha, that's the last thing you ever do. And he gave that up...he had to, the Alpha's too small to take it from him...That sucks—you can't buy off a guy like that."

"Careful, Bryce. You almost sounded respectful, there."

"Then I better make fun of his kid and re-establish the balance in the universe. He has stupid hair."

I giggled, harder when I saw the younger werewolves behind Nick point to his head. They weren't involved in the room discussions and I guess and nothing better to do than eavesdrop on the conversation.

"That's Reese and the shorter one's Noah. They're new. Savannah didn't know much about them—I don't think she's ever met them. She couldn't have." With his beach blonde hair, fading tan and bland handsomeness, he was just Savannah's type. She would have mentioned Reese to me if she'd seen him.

"Is there a reason they look like they just stumbled out of 'Dude, where's my car?' or is that just an Omega thing?"

"I don't think they use wolf terminology. And be nice or I won't tell you about the last one."

"Like I care about the guy wearing more expensive clothes than me. Tell me about the midget with him instead."

"The werewolf is Karl Marsden," I said, ignoring him. "Jewel thief, killer and all around immoral scum. And he clearly likes them significantly younger. The two of you have a lot in common." When he didn't respond, I continued. "The woman with his is...Faith, Hope or Charity. Something dumb like that. She's—"

"Sean told me about her."

It was a threat, pure and simple. The girlfriend was an Expisco, a half-demon type that was a Cabal goldmine. Having them know about her was not good news for her, and her boyfriend knew it. His arm was around her waist now, reassuring them both she wouldn't end up sucked in and spit out of the Cabal machine. Optimistic idiots.

"Grandpa used to know someone like her. Let me meet him, at the end." The unpleasant smile on his face made me sick. "It gave me nightmare and I was old enough to know better by then. She's cuter than the corpse was though. If you like them brown."

"Does your family know something I don't? Because the last I checked Marsten was Pack. Which means it's not a good idea to actively piss him off."

"I can say whatever I want about Cortez employees. Did Savannah tell you that about him? We owe him, and the girl. They fucked us over once and Grandpa doesn't forget." So that's the reason we had been on werewolf surveillance duty. "I was hoping they wouldn't bring him. Grandpa is not going to like this. Cortezes on one side, the interracial council stacked with Cortez toadies on the other. Do you know what I'm going to have to do to get him to be okay with that?"

"What we're going to have to do," I said quietly.

For a second he just stared at me; he helped me to my feet almost gently. "Yeah. Tomorrow's going to be fun."

We were in the elevator going upstairs before he actually explained what was bothering him.

"I've always hated the interracial council. Besides the whole idealism thing, which bugs me on principal, they just love themselves some interracial dating. Heaven forbid people stick with their own kind."

"I thought your grandfather was the Nazi, not you."

But for once he wasn't in the mood to have me besmirching his character. Bryce was serious.

"How can a werewolf have any idea how to deal with an Expisco? It's like dating a crack addict, one that no amount of rehab can cure. It would be like dating you, if all the crazy shit you do to yourself was directed at other people. All she's ever going to be capable of doing is chasing that next high—which means she's going to need dead bodies on the ground, one day. She's going to die strung out and there's now way he can handle it. The same way she can't handle what happens to him once a week, when his body isn't his, when he's the freak at the circus. Bet you he's never let her see him that way, stuck in between, victim of his own genes. No number of Armani suits would help him then. And the necro..."

It was a slight inflection, nothing more. His tone was already ugly, his body already tense, but as soon as he mentioned Jaime Vegas the smallest hint of pity entered his voice. This was his real objection, or as close to real as Bryce would let himself get in front of another person.

"If she's as powerful as they say, she's got one, maybe one and half, decades. Tops. And then she's going to be screaming things as they slowly convince her it would be worth any price, if only they would shut up for a goddamn moment. The necros can't help other necros. Even Hollis couldn't—what the hell is a werewolf going to do?"

That some things were beyond his control was a fact that Bryce could, perhaps, acknowledge on an intellectual level. Not for a second did I think he truly believed it. There was no way he could understand how people could accept that they were powerless. Religion perverted was the closest he could come. But I didn't bring that up.

"So you can only date sorcerers? Really, Bryce, if you want to justify those homosexual urges of yours, there are easier ways."

"Shut up, Gillian." But it got a smile out of him and that's all I had wanted. "You can't seriously think Lucas and Paige should be together. Separately, they're insane—who wants to help people that much? Together? It's just not natural."

"Just because you think sorcerers and witches don't belong together does not mean I'm letting you get away with not helping me with the spell."

His face fell, but he let me take his hand and drag him back to the room. And once we got the spell as close to perfect as we could, I showed him exactly how compatible witches and sorcerers could be.