Chapter 41

"Gillian...Gillian!"

"Have you found her yet?" I asked Bryce groggily, trying to get comfortable on the hard mattress.

"This is officially the stupidest way of finding someone ever," a voice snapped.

A familiar voice. I slowly opened my eyes. And there she was. Only partially lit from the dim light bulb that served as the only light source, but there was no denying it was her. Maybe she was a little beat up and her clothes were a little—a lot—dirty and she smelled horrible after so long in captivity, but it was still her.

"Savannah."

"I can't believe you got yourself kidnapped. You're like officially the most useless—"

I cut her off by hugging her. She hissed in pain and I tried to pull away but she decided otherwise. It was so strange that after all this time she was here, solid and real. The stench was a little overwhelming, but that didn't stop me from holding her tighter.

"It's good to see you too," I said, with what I knew was a stupid grin, but I just didn't care. She was there.

"Yeah, yeah..." she muttered. "Welcome to hell."

The limited light wasn't a problem since the room wasn't that big anyway. Savannah would have a hard time standing up comfortably in it and it was probably the same distance across, roughly speaking. A small storage container did seem the best bet, with the smooth metal surface everywhere, but it was hard to know where this hell hole was.

"It's not too bad."

"Not too bad? I've been stuck in this fucking place forever, Gillian. Trust me when I say it's fucking hell. There's absolutely nothing to do."

"I don't suppose you have something to drink? My mouth tastes horrible."

Even in the half-light, I could tell she was rolling her eyes. "Would you rather apple or orange juice? Wait a second while I check what I have in my fridge."

"Sorry." I tried ordering my head to stop pounding but it didn't work. "How long was I out for?"

"I don't know. A while. They brought you in just before lunch and it feels like forever since then." There was a tiny bit of hope on her face when she asked, "Does anybody know where you are?"

It was then that I remembered Nadira, lying on her floor. Paulson knew but...she had been scared I had brought Grant, Grant who had practically raised Bryce. He wouldn't have forgiven her for that, even if he had been okay with her getting me killed. They must have killed Paulson, too. Grant knew where I was and he would tell Bryce when I didn't come back but would Bryce risk telling anyone that he knew Nadira before he investigated himself?

Oh god. I hoped so.

"I doubt it. We're not going to get rescued that way."

"Shit."

"Someone will find us. They were making progress on finding you when I got myself kidnapped. I wonder why they bothered coming after me..."

"They don't actually tell me anything. Because I'm their prisoner."

"No need to be snarky. I just watched someone get murdered in cold-blood in front of me, so excuse me for being a little curious about why it happened."

"Now who's being snarky." We grinned at each other. "If we're performing a healing spell, then another witch won't hurt."

"We aren't performing a healing spell."

"Oh. Okay. So what does the spell do?"

"You wouldn't believe you if I told you." When she had settled on the ground next to me, I said, "It might be a resurrection spell."

Her reaction was very similar to what my own had been—she laughed for a long time, until she realized I was serious. "You have to be kidding."

"I wish."

"Could I...survive that? Even if you cast the spell at the same time?"

I was an idiot. "We wouldn't both have to cast it. Since you got yourself thrown into the time tear we've been obviously sharing power, especially when one of us needs it to save our respective lives. That might be why they had to have you—because not only are you insanely powerful, but you also have access to my power. With all that, maybe you could cast this spell without dying before you finished."

"That isn't exactly comforting." Savannah perked up. "At least this means they have a plan. I would hate to get kidnapped by second rate bad guys."

"I'd rather get kidnapped by bad guys I could escape from, but that's just me."

"Yeah, yeah. God, it's so awesome you're here. I was going nuts having no one to talk to. So what's been going on?"

I told her, because there was nothing else to do but talk. I told her how everyone had been going nuts—Paige figuratively, Leech literally—looking for her. I told her about meeting Kane, which made her horribly jealous. There were things I didn't want to tell her, like my mom helping, but she already knew that one, anyway.

"Ugh. I can't believe you talked to the Wicked Bitch of the South."

"Could you not? Seriously, Savannah, that's my mother you're talking about."

"Who you hate," she pointed out.

"As my mother. But she did raise me for thirteen years and she's all I have left. So just lay off her, okay?"

"Oh Jesus Christ Superstar. What the fuck? How can you forget that you hate her? She deserves it."

"Let's not talk about the people I should be mad at, okay? Because guess who's on the top of that list?"

"What the hell did I do?"

"I've been worried sick for days, risking my life to try and get you back, watching everyone around me go slowly crazy. And for what? All of this could have been avoided if you'd just stayed where you were supposed to! What would have been so hard about that? You always do this. You always leave me. Why couldn't you just stay with Leech back at my house like you were supposed to? Why do you have to try and be some sort of daredevil every single time?

"Everyone is freaking out. I was totally okay with torturing someone who was just doing his job, Thomas Nast is beginning to think my continued existence is a personal insult, and I have no idea if I'm turning evil or just growing up—and you weren't there. I needed you and you weren't there. I hate you, I fucking hate—"

The slap came out of nowhere—I was so sick of being pushed around, I launched myself at her, yanking her hair. Wrong move. She pulled back so I scratched her. I'm ashamed to admit we ended up rolling around the floor, smashing into the sides of our prison as we clawed at one another, shrieking and hissing. She was a lot bigger and a lot stronger, but the captivity had weakened her and I had the room to manoeuvre. I managed to get my knee up and into her stomach and then scrambled to the far side of the room as she struggled to catch her breath.

When she did, she burst out laughing and so did I. She settled back against the wall and in a moment I came over and sat beside her. After she muttered a healing spell for the scratches on her arm, she said, "Didn't that feel good?" She burst into more peals of laughter. "We should have taped that. You can make a fortune from catfights."

"Only if there's mud. Or water," I pointed out. "I can't believe you slapped me. I've never seen you fight like that."

"Well, if I'd had punched you, I would have knocked you out. But I needed that," she confessed. "I missed having physical contact."

"Physical contact? You trying to proposition me?"

"Shut up, slut. I'm glad you're here, even if you were an idiot for getting caught." She looked down for a second and then sort of muttered, "You know I have to go out and do the stupid thing. That's just who I am."

"I know. Apparently that's why I love you."

"Uh, o-kay."

"Blame your brother. He's been putting me in touch with my feelings, weirdly enough. You know you're messed up when Bryce Nast is less emotionally retarded than you are."

"I refuse to believe that about the evil half-brother. If you're messed up, it's just because I wasn't around."

"True. Sabrina School forever?"

"Damn straight."

We bumped fists and then set about trying to figure a way out.

The door was clearly the easiest, and possibly the only, way out. But Savannah hadn't been down in this room for days without doing anything. The thing was impossible to break through, physically or magically, she declared and I believed her when she said she had tried everything. But there had to be another way around it.

Eventually, we decided to try attacking them when they brought us dinner. That sounded like the best way to go about doing this, since it was the only time the door would open otherwise. Since there was two of us, we were hoping the binding spells wouldn't hold as well, allowing us to fight our way out of there.

Unfortunately, the bad guys didn't take our vague plan into account when they stopped by next.

When we froze, we knew they were coming. We just had to wait for our moment. The door swung open, but all I could see was a concrete wall on the other side of small, poorly lit gap. The view did nothing to help me narrow down our location, but that wasn't my concern right then. Once we got out of our cell, we could figure out where we were.

"Hello, girls," a female voice said in the kind of voice librarians use to introduce very special guests as she walked inside our room. Two men followed her (both Edmunds) and while she did something that suddenly made the light bulb actually work properly, they came up to each of us, pulling us towards opposite sides of the containers and pointing guns right at our temples.

The body bind spells broke.

"Guns are for cowards and humans," Savannah snapped. "And what kind of sorcerers use witch magic?"

"The kind that has learned many things they never should have had to bother with," Edmund snarled. "Now stop moving or your friend dies."

We hadn't exactly planned for weapons—the human devices changed the game. We'd have to cast the spells simultaneously, without them noticing even though they were breathing down our necks. That didn't look like it was going to happen.

"We need to talk," the woman said, directly our attention at her.

I had only met Mariah Eisenberg once before and she looked even more of a mess now than she had at the party. Her hair was a curly disaster, her face was lined with wrinkles, her clothing was plain and more than a little dirty and she looked twenty years older than when I had last seen her. Still, she had a calm about her that made me furious. Kidnapping, murder—it wasn't important to her. She was just following her day planner.

"This is the psycho bitch," Savannah needlessly called out. "Twenty bucks says she's just going to go over the spell. Again. She loves hearing herself talk about it. Like a necro knows anything about spells."

"Thank you for that introduction, Savannah. As always, your delicacy is astounding. However, today I actually have to speak to Gillian. It's seems only fair, since you have your own spell to learn, that she learns one as well. Though she only has until tonight to learn it."

"Or what?"

"Or Thomas will kill you. If you survive."

She held out a sheet of paper and when her husband (one of them, at least) nudged me in the back, I took it. It was a pretty complex spell—part ritual, part casting. I didn't need to translate the words since I had seen this spell before; though I hadn't thought I would need it for twenty years, if I ever did.

"Gillian?" Savannah's voice brought me out of my panic. "What is it?"

I read out the first line in Greek, trying to force my throat to get used to the sounds, trying not to think about why I would need this.

"Is that...? That's for having kids when you're, like, ancient."

"Not necessarily," I said. Academics, I could concentrate on academics. "The spell technically can be used on anyone who couldn't naturally conceive, for whatever reason. You don't have to be old, like Ruth Winterbourne was. You just have to be..." underweight. "Not one hundred percent naturally suitable."

"But you need...hair? Or was it teeth? Or something from a guy, right? You can't just virgin birth this thing, even with a spell." A horrible idea occurred to her. "If your fucking husband touches her, so help me god I will destroy you all."

"It won't come to that," Mariah said, friendly smile on her face. Bitch. "Right, Gillian? We'll take you to the body, tonight, when it comes it. You'll be able to gather all the blood you need then."

"Gillian—what the freaking hell?"

"I..." If I hadn't already thrown up everything in my stomach, I think I would have been doubled over. As it was, I had to remind myself to breathe. "I may have told your grandfather your brother knocked me up in order to get him to help with the investigation."

"You what?"

"It made sense at the time."

"I don't know what happened, but I'm pretty sure that does not make sense, like ever! What is—what body do you want her to use?"

Who else knew I knew Nadira?

"Bryce should be here in three hours. You have until then to learn the spell, Gillian, though you won't need much more than ninety minutes. We aren't going to make you perform it, of course, but you can imagine how unhappy Thomas will be when he finds out that not only is his grandson dead, but the great-grandson he needs as an heir never existed in the first place."

"There's no need to kill him. Just knock him out and take whatever you need from him, then. It'll be safer for you if you don't go after Thomas's grandson and this way—"

"Shh...," Mariah whispered, but it was her husband's gun digging into my forehead that made me shut up. "Bryce Nast has to die, Gillian. And you need to be with child. If you'd prefer my husband, you can say so. Experience has taught us that you tend to prefer Bryce, but we would be willing to listen if you changed your mind."

"You don't have to kill him. Thomas—"

"Is a good employer who doesn't deserve this. We are sorry about what we have to do to him. But Bryce dies tonight, no matter what you do. He's fulfilled his purpose—he got you to us, after looking after you so well the past few days. His time is now up."

She stepping close to me, stroked my cheek, just like a good mother would when offering words of comfort. "Hollis was glad our son died. We're going to destroy his."

"And my son?"

"The Nasts will take good care of him."

I flew at her, then—it was ridiculously stupid. There was a gun to my head, a gun to Savannah's; I shouldn't have reacted. But I wanted to wipe that self-satisfied, selfish smirk from her face. As much as I knew life was unfair, hypocrisy was always hard to tolerate.

Unfortunately, Edmund was too close.

His arms were around my waist, holding me in place. His counterpart was shouting from across the container, threatening Savannah. Mariah just looked at me, a faint smile on her weathered face.

"It's true. We've seen it, so many times. There's no need for you to worry. Sean is a very attentive uncle, even if he disapproves of you. He adores his nephew. Your son has a wonderful life; probably because his parents aren't in it. Remember that. Good luck. I'll see you in three hours."

She placed a watch in my hands. With that, she turned and walked casually from the room. Her husband(s) recast the binding spell, leaving us frozen in place as they closed the door. This time they left the light on, like it would help.

When the binding spell broke, I found myself unable to move.

Then Savannah's arms were around me.

"You okay?"

I glanced down at the watch. It was counting down. Three hours. We had less than three hours to get under here or I would be stuck in the middle of a nightmare.

"It was the only thing we could think of to get Thomas to agree to help you, to make sure the Nasts gave everything they had to the investigation. I mean, Bryce might have been doing it just to see what Thomas would do..but it did help the investigation, even if Thomas has been after me to abort it since we told him. So I don't see why he would want me to keep it after Bryce di—after."

Maybe Thomas and I shared something in common, after all. If someone was dead, it was that last little piece... Or maybe it was a lot less sentimental than that. If Bryce died, Thomas would be very close to running out of suitable heirs. Better to take the sure thing from its unsuitable mother.

"You don't have to perform the spell, you know. Even if they do kill Bryce...we can figure something else out, afterwards. Paige and Lucas could help us hide you or—"

"Sean needs an heir. Thomas can't just forget what I told him; he'd have to punish me if it turns out I was lying." Especially if Bryce died mad at him. "The Cortezes can't afford to take him on."

Neither could I.

"Okay, new plan, then. I am going to get us out of here before then if it kills us."

"But preferably not, okay?"

"That's plan A," she assured me.

That finally got me to smile. "Thanks."

"Any time. So...how do we get out?"

I snorted. I was plan girl; she was action girl. Right now that ball was in my court. Too bad all I could think about was Bryce's body on Nadira's floor.

"So who's Hollis, anyway?" Savannah interrupted.

"What?"

"They said they were killing Bryce to piss off this Hollis guy, right? They...may have mentioned that name before. She loves ranting about it. It didn't mean anything to me, but maybe if you could figure it out...maybe we could figure out what they're going to do next. Or maybe we could get him to help us when we get out."

"Hollis is already helping with the investigation. He's on the board of directors, not to mention he's—he's Leech's dad."

That's why they killed Nadira and why they wanted to kill Bryce. Leech was already crazy, so there wasn't much else they had to do to drive him over the edge.

"Oh. No wonder the big guy wants to kill himself when all this over."

"Not helping, Savannah."

"Sorry. I just...why would he care about you being pregnant?"

"What?"

"Seriously. I get why you might end up performing this spell in order not to have the grumpster kill you, but why would they go to all the trouble of kidnapping you just to perform it in the first place? Killing Bryce to hurt Leech, I get. Having you give birth to Nast spawn, I don't get. Why would Leech be upset about that? If anything, wouldn't he be happy? He seems to like kids."

"Hollis is on the board, so maybe...I have no idea. I'm not the psycho Cabal employees."

"Maybe we should tell them you already do a great approximation of morning sickness already."

"Screw you." And then it hit me. "Savannah? What would be the effects on my spellcasting power if I was pregnant?"

"You'd be stronger," she said, excitement creeping into her voice. "You'd be more vulnerable to attack, but as a whole, you're more powerful because you're sort of tapping into extra spellcasting power—sort of what I'd be doing with you, only naturally. Especially if you were, like, just pregnant. You're body would barely feel it but your power would increase."

"Enough to cure genetic illness?"

"Hell if I know. But if they want us playing around with magic that powerful, they aren't going to take any chances. If you can increase someone's power—I guess I should be grateful they didn't decide to make me perform the spell too."

"I guess even psycho bad guys disapprove of incest."

Never mind that Savannah simply wouldn't ever perform the spell, no matter how many alternate realties you put her in, no matter how many variables you stacked against her. She wasn't like me—not everything in her life was a trade of sorts. Her body wasn't something she would ever trade to save herself. Nor would she ever feel obligated (however twisted it might seem) to give something back to a dead man, the first person in forever who had wanted to help.

"Good. Crap. That doesn't really help us get out of here, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does."

While it didn't help us in the literal sense, it did tell us something very important—they couldn't afford to hurt us. The guns had been for show; Edmund had grabbed me instead of shooting me because they needed both of us in order to perform the spell. So...

"I'm waiting."

"I'm thinking. We need to get out of here, but you can't get through the door right?"

"Right. Any spells directed at the door don't work, but I can still do magic. They had to let me practice the spell."

"What if..." We needed something that would put us in danger (but not enough to kill us) so they would have to open the door to help us, but something that would also make it chaotic enough that they wouldn't be able to stop us from getting past them. Something like...

"Okay, Savannah. Ready to learn a spell?"