Paige turned her attention to Sean. He was coming down those steps, looking neither left nor right. He was the one who needed them both now. She watched him flinch when an engine roared off to the left, then shake his head as if embarrassed by how jumpy he was.
She hurried over to them. Her first smile was for Savannah, but she barely seemed to notice it, her attention focused on her brother. Paige gave him a hug and murmured that the car was near, that someone else would get his luggage. Savannah had let go of his arm and stepped back, as if relinquishing him to Paige's care. Savannah met her gaze then, passing her a small, tired smile and mouthing "thanks" as Paige bustled Sean to the car.
Paige got him seated inside, with a glass of ice water and a shot of brandy. He picked up the brandy, stared into the amber for a moment and downed it in one gulp. Then his lips twisted in a ghost of a smile.
"That's better."
Paige took out the bottle.
He held up his hand. "No, I shouldn't . . ." A pause. "Maybe one more. Thank you."
As she poured, she realized Savannah wasn't getting into the SUV. She turned to see her still standing there.
Paige gave the brandy to Sean, then stepped back and closed the door. She barely had time to put her arms out before Savannah fell into them.
"I'm sorry for what happened," Paige whispered. "And I'm sorry I wasn't there."
Savannah shook her head. "I'm glad you weren't there. You're lousy in a fight."
Paige sputtered a laugh. "Thank you." She pulled back to look up at her. "How are you doing?"
"Fine." She tried for a smile, then swallowed and shook her head. "Not fine."
She collapsed against Paige again and she hugged her as tightly as she could. Yes, the little girl was all grown up, but she still needed her. At least, for a while longer.
TWENTY-SEVEN
I would gladly have stayed asleep for a few hours. But it felt as if I'd barely drifted off on the ride from the airport before Paige was shaking my shoulder.
We were already parked and she and I were the only ones left in the vehicle. Outside, Benicio was telling Sean how sorry he was to hear of Thomas's passing.
"We didn't often see eye-to-eye," Benicio was saying, his voice low. "But I've known him since I was a boy. He'll leave a hole in our world that won't soon be filled."
I got my bearings and climbed out after Paige. Benicio left Sean and came over to me.
"We'll get this sorted, Savannah," he said. "You'll be vindicated and avenged. You have my word on that."
Vindicated and avenged. A couple of weeks ago, I'd have been burning for just that. Now the words seemed empty. I didn't want justice with a flaming sword. I wanted peace and resolution. Fix this crisis. Fix our world.
We headed for the doors, Benicio's longtime bodyguards, Troy and Griffin, moving in to flank us, Paige and Sean staying behind with the other guards.
"Troy will be with you for a few days, Savannah," Benicio said. "Until we get this matter sorted."
I glanced over at Troy, who mouthed, "Lucky you."
"As much as I'm sure Troy would love to baby-sit me," I said, rolling my eyes at him behind Benicio's back, "he should stay with you. You could be targeted--"
"I'll have Griffin and two of my backup men. I could be a target--you will be a target."
"You're twenty-one now, aren't you?" Troy said.
"I am."
"Good, then I can take you drinking."
"Only if you can do it in the executive lounge," Benicio said. "You're going to be on lockdown for a while."
Troy leaned behind Benicio to motion that we'd discuss it later and I had to laugh. Benicio sighed and shook his head. Griffin glanced back for Paige and Sean, but they hadn't caught up yet, so we got on the elevator and he punched the button.
"Paige tells me your spells are coming back," Benicio said as the doors closed.
"On and off. I'm dealing with it."
I'm dealing with it. Shocking how casual that sounded. Even more shocking how casual it felt. My powers blew hot and cold, completely beyond my control, but I was learning to work with it. Maybe learning to live with it.
"I'd like you to reconsider that ritual Adam found," Benicio said.
I almost asked "What ritual?" Then I remembered: the one Adam had dug up to restore my powers.
"He says there's a time limit," Benicio said. "I don't want you getting so caught up in this crisis that you lose sight of that."
"I'll put it in my calendar."
"I'm serious, Savannah. Adam said you're holding off because you think your powers were taken to help you control them. But given what just happened, you need to consider the possibility that's a lie. A trick. The demons have spies. They could have known Adam was on the verge of finding that ritual and made sure you wouldn't use it."
I looked over at him. "I am taking it seriously. I just . . . I'm fine for now. We'll watch this space, okay?"
He nodded. Then he reached into his pocket. "It seems Adam is quite concerned that you'll suffer separation anxiety, being away from your cell phone for too long. I've replaced it--again."
"Thanks. I'll try not to fall into a sewer or get kidnapped again."
I opened the phone. There was already a text from Adam, checking in. I was about to text back when the elevator reached its destination. We stepped out onto the floor that housed the medical ward.
Sean arrived a moment later and caught up with us. "Is Bryce still unconscious?" he asked Benicio.
"Yes, but I can have them wake him if you'd like."
Sean shook his head. "I'll just sit with him."
When we got to the room, though, the doctors were busy with Bryce and asked us to wait outside. I ducked into a nearby office to call Adam.
"Hey," I said when he answered. "Did I catch you in the middle of a top-secret break-and-enter?"
"I wish. Everything's moving slowly here. Very slowly. I'm getting plenty of rest. So what's up there?"
"I have a six-foot-four shadow. I'm just glad it's Troy. I like Griffin well enough but . . . you know."
"Not exactly a sociable guy." He hesitated. "But I'm glad you have someone. It makes me feel better."
I could tell it didn't really make him feel better. If Lucas was Benicio's right-hand man, Troy was his left. To give me his most trusted guard when trouble was brewing? It said I was in more danger than I thought.
"I just hope he's not going to follow me too closely after you get back," I said.
"We'll make sure he doesn't."
"About that. Us. The others . . . I don't know how you want to . . . handle it. Should I talk to Paige? You talk to Lucas? Or are we going to see how things go first . . . ?"
"I should be the one to tell them. If they have a problem with it, they'll want to talk to me. Their biggest concern will be you--that you'll get hurt . . ." He trailed off and my heart started to thump.
"Adam?"
"Still here. Just thinking that maybe we should hold off telling them."
It thumped harder.
"Just for now," he continued. "Until we've had a chance to talk."
Really thumping now. "Okay."
Sean popped his head in the door. "Any time you're ready."
I said good-bye to Adam, and tried to push the call from my mind as I followed Sean into the hospital room.
When I saw Bryce, my gaze shot to Sean to gauge his reaction. All I saw was relief, meaning Bryce must not look any worse than he did last night.
Dead. He looked dead.
I've only been to a few funerals in my life. I avoided them growing up. It brought back too much; not just my mother's death, but the thought that she'd never had one, that she didn't even have a grave, that I had no idea where her body was.
As I got older, I went when my presence meant something to someone else. Like when Adam's grandmother passed on. Or when Paige lost a childhood friend to cancer. Or when a cousin of Lucas's died in a car crash.
This was like seeing my brother laid o
ut in a casket. His tanned skin was sallow. His blond hair was combed wrong. His hands were folded on his stomach. His lips were unnaturally red, as if a mortician had applied lipstick.
Was he breathing? It didn't look like it.
The first thing Sean did was fix Bryce's hair.
"Hey, Bryce," he said. "I'm back. I brought Savannah with me."
I moved up alongside him and said hello. Sean talked a bit more to him, somehow managing to relate the last twenty-four hours with no mention of dungeons and sham trials, the death of our grandfather and the utter devastation that had befallen the Nast Cabal.
When Sean stopped talking, we sat with Bryce for a minute. Then the doctor poked his head through the door, and instead of waving him in, Sean motioned him out of the room.
"But I'd like to hear--" I began.
"Out there," he said.
We followed the doctor to the office where I'd called Adam.Sean explained to me that he'd insisted no one discuss Bryce's condition in the room. Comatose patients sometimes could hear what was going on around them, and he wasn't taking that chance.
"His condition is stable," the doctor said. "At this point--"
"That's all we can hope for," Sean cut in, uncharacteristically impatient. "Yes, yes. I know. Until you know what it is, you can't treat it."
"We are making inroads," the doctor said. "We've finally been able to analyze his DNA and pinpoint the modifications that were made."
"Modifications?" I said. "To his DNA?"
Sean's nod to me was curt, just short of "shut up and listen." Then he caught himself and squeezed my arm. "Sorry. This is all new to you, isn't it? Bryce's genetic code has been altered. It sounds scary--it is scary--but we presume the changes are supernatural in nature. That's what happens, for example, when a vampire is reborn or a werewolf is bitten. A makeover at the genetic level."
"That's what it is, isn't it?" I said. "Vampire."
"In part," the doctor said. "It's a hybrid, which is why it was so difficult to analyze. There's also werewolf."
"Werewolf and vampire?" Sean said.
"Yes, and a third strand, too. We're . . . we're still running tests on that. We have preliminary results, but I'm reluctant to say anything yet. Even if we are correct, we've seen no signs that it's had any negative effect, despite what one might think--"
"Zombie," I said. "That's the third type, isn't it?"
He hesitated, then nodded.
It wasn't a lucky guess. We had known from Cassandra's WWII run-in with Giles that his immortality experiments combined vampires with zombies.
The doctor hurried on, "But we've seen no signs of deterioration. The Boyd Cabal has been experimenting with zombie DNA for years, in hopes that it might unlock the secrets to immortality, and they've made some advances. We think some of their researchers were involved in this. It seems--"
He stopped and cleared his throat. "Mr. Cortez will want to explain all that. It isn't my place. But I can assure you that your brother's condition is stable. We are, however, going to keep him in the coma, while the DNA transformation continues. That seems . . . best."
"What happened?" I asked.
The doctor looked over sharply. "I didn't say--"
"Something happened when he woke up, didn't it?"
The doctor looked at Sean with anxious eyes.
"Please answer my sister," Sean said.
He hesitated, then said, "We are unfamiliar with the transformation process of a bitten werewolf. Fortunately we have someone here who has taken one through the Change successfully."
"Jeremy Danvers," I said. "With Elena."
He hesitated. "Yes, sorry, I forgot you are acquainted with them. We are also fortunate that Mr. Danvers was in the building when your brother woke and with his assistance--"
"What happened?" Sean said.
"He began, uh . . ."
"Changing," I said. "Into a wolf."
"Not exact--" He cleared his throat again. "Mr. Danvers has witnessed only one initial transformation of a bitten werewolf, and that's hardly a sample large enough for generalization--"
"It wasn't a normal Change," I said. "Something's wrong."
"I--I believe you should speak to Mr. Cortez about this. And to Mr. Danvers, who should still be available--"
"He is," said a voice from the doorway. Jeremy stepped in. "I heard you were back. I need to speak to you both about Bryce."
The doctor got out of there as fast as he could. Jeremy told us that Bryce had woken and started what looked like a partial Change. That was normal. As were the screams of agony that went with it, though Jeremy downplayed those for Sean's sake. Bryce had been fevered to the point of delirium, also normal from Jeremy's experience with Elena. What concerned him was the rate at which the Change came on.
"It's happening faster than I saw with Elena," he said. "It appears to be a mutated form of werewolf, as well. More similar to the Shifters the Pack encountered in Alaska."
The Shifters were a small group of what appeared to be an evolutionary precursor to modern werewolves. Jeremy and the others Changed into wolves--real wolves. Those guys had been closer to the beastlike Hollywood wolfman.
"We were concerned about the damage the Change might be doing to his body," Jeremy said. "I had them administer a sedative. It was then that he was able to tell us what he knew about Larsen Dahl."
"So the moment he recovers from nearly changing into a wolfman, Benicio grills him about that?" I said.
Jeremy gave me a look. "I would not have allowed that, Savannah. Bryce offered the information. He didn't seem to realize he'd started to Change."
"Is that normal?"
"No. But none of this is normal."
My cell phone bleeped that I had a message. Jeremy's buzzed at the same time.
I checked mine, then looked at him. "Benicio?"
Jeremy nodded.
"He wants me to come up as soon as we're done here, so I can debrief them and be debriefed." I glanced at Sean. "He'd like you to join us, if you can."
"I'll come."
TWENTY-EIGHT
Paige met us heading into the meeting and gave me a rundown on everyone's whereabouts. Lucas was still in L.A., of course, with Adam, Clay and Elena. He'd be joining us by phone when he could. Aaron and Cassandra were dealing with trouble in Washington, where some moron had tried to expose a vampire. Jaime was here, but waiting for my parents to contact her, and wouldn't be joining us. Hope was present, with Karl, who was worried sick, probably because Hope was still having disturbing visions while heavily pregnant. There were also assorted Cabal executives on hand. When I walked in, though, I noticed one conspicuous absence.
"Where's Carlos?" I whispered.
"Putting out fires in New York," Paige whispered back as we found seats.
"Really?"
"Benicio suggested it. Carlos's men agreed. They're convinced this is his opportunity to show his leadership skills."
"What leadership skills?"
"Exactly. But they went along to prop up their straw man, and Benicio says together they're competent enough." She pulled out her chair. "So Carlos is out of everyone's hair and may actually be doing something useful."
That was one potential problem resolved. At the meeting, though, I realized it was only a drop in the bucket.
I thought I knew how bad things were getting. But I'd only seen what was right in front of me, a narrow slice of the chaos rolling over the supernatural world.
Benicio played us footage of some of the attacks made by the anti-reveal movement. A hell-beast had manifested in the New York subway system. Blurry video showed a subway train arriving at a crowded station. The beast appears. Only a few see it, but panic whips through the crowd. Someone says it's a bomb. People are trampled. People fall onto the tracks in front of the oncoming train. Too many people fall onto the tracks, meaning magic is at play.
Hundreds of people claimed to have been there. Most, it turned out, hadn't been within five miles. Reputable news source
s were already writing it off as mass hysteria, at most some large animal loose in the subway. The exposure threat? Minimal . . . so far.
Then, in Nashville, during a rooftop wedding reception, two uninvited guests appear: a werewolf and a vampire. Not just any werewolf and vampire, but ones that--judging by the blurry cell phone images on the Internet--had been locked up and starved long enough to tip them into madness.
Neither the Pack nor the council recognized the wretches. From the babble caught on those tapes, they seemed to be speaking foreign languages. Caught outside the U.S. or lured in, held captive, starved, driven mad . . . and released on a rooftop filled with half-drunk wedding revelers with the exit doors barred behind them, a cell phone blocker cutting off all hopes of aid.
Bodies began hitting the pavement, partygoers so desperate to escape that they leaped to their deaths. By the time authorities reached the roof, all the guests and event staff were dead. The werewolf and vampire were gone, too, leaving only cell phone videos of two disheveled and crazed "humans" ripping people apart.
"The group responsible hasn't launched an attack in twelve hours now," Benicio said after the cases had been presented. "We've captured three key members and they are undergoing interrogation. Another half-dozen members have been detained. Still more have been stopped."
He meant killed. No one needed the clarification.
"As most of you are aware, the Boyd Cabal has been working with us on this. They disabled one branch before it could act. The St. Clouds handled another, but after the death of Thomas Nast, they have cut off contact with us. We can trust, however, that they will continue their efforts."
Sean added. "As for the Nasts, I've been in touch with a few senior executives. We'll be joining your efforts, together with a contingent of staff loyal to me."
Benicio nodded. "I believe we'll see more help from your organization as the shock passes and they realize this is not, sadly, the time for grief. Nor is it the time for a battle over succession."
"I hope so," Paige murmured beside me.
She didn't sound too optimistic, and based on what I'd seen, I wasn't either. We could get men apparently loyal to Sean onside, but they couldn't be given any access to Cortez information or positions of authority, in case they were spies for Josef. By the time the average Nast Cabal employee decided to throw in his lot with Sean, it might be too late to help.