“Yeah, I don’t care.” I waved his words away, suddenly impatient. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Urgency overcame me, and I knew what the message would say before I even opened it.
Time is running out.
I passed the phone to Emery, my mother’s message pulled up. The phone rang a moment later. It had been agreed upon that she would text us the messages she’d received through her magic, but no one had discussed the best way for her to badger us afterward. She’d want to know what our plans were—basically why our time was running out.
She would not be pleased that we had no idea. Maybe this Darius person could shed light on something. Or the letter could.
“Give him the letter,” I told Emery.
Emery handed the phone back. “Don’t answer it.”
What did he think I was, insane?
I silenced the phone and put it in my pocket.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Clyde said, spreading his hands and smiling patiently.
Emery pushed the letter across the desk. “I’ll start from what I’m okay with you knowing. I’m in town to hunt down the men responsible for my brother’s death. I wish to claim vengeance, and find the place where my brother died. He needs a proper burial. I will give it to him.”
Clyde took the letter and dropped it in front of him, not looking at the words.
Emery pointed at it. “I recovered that letter from the office of my brother’s killer. I’m wondering if the man who sent him that was the one that ordered his death. I need to know what it says.”
Clyde glanced down. It was unclear if he’d be able to read the letter or not. The man didn’t give much away. “And if this letter is nothing?”
“I break into the Mages’ Guild and look around.” Emery’s lips turned into a thin line, and shivers rolled over my body, making my small hairs stand on end.
“You and Penny will break in?” Clyde asked.
Emery’s expression turned uncomfortable. He didn’t answer.
“And what is your part in all of this?” Clyde asked me, entirely too patient.
I took a deep breath, because I didn’t know how I’d go about hanging him up by his toes and demanding action. “No one knows, least of all Emery and me. I don’t fit into Emery’s plans at all. I don’t have a squabble with the guild—”
“You are a terrible liar, Miss Bristol. What is your squabble with the guild?”
I felt my eyebrows slip low. That was an annoying trait he had.
“It’s best to be relaxed, and just let the lies come,” Emery said nonchalantly.
“But she hasn’t had practice.” Clyde smiled, oozing charm. “How fortunate for me.”
“I’ve had practice—it just never goes very well.” I swatted the hair out of my eyes.
“Honesty. How refreshing.” Clyde’s smile grew.
“Her squabble,” Emery said, taking over, thankfully, “should be fairly obvious. The guild found out about her when I did. I got past her mother first.”
Clyde sat back in his chair. His gaze went back and forth between Emery and me. He glanced at the letter in front of him before reaching for the phone on the corner of his desk.
He was going to call his boss.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A couple of hours later, Emery looked at the closed door of his adjoining suite with Penny. Clyde had given them one of the vampire suites at the bottom of the hotel to freshen up while he looked at Emery’s letter and pulled any information that might be relevant. On his orders, clothes were brought to them, a hairdresser was sent down to Emery, and they were also encouraged to order whatever they wanted from room service. Everything would be paid for.
There was nothing to worry about. Penny was undoubtedly alone, and perfectly safe, on the other side of that door. Emery bent forward on the expensive couch and clasped his fingers together, struggling against the urge to knock on the door and ask if she was okay. He’d know if she was in danger. Everyone in the hotel would know. She’d probably blow the place sky high.
Darius had agreed to head out as soon as could be arranged. The guy had his own jet. That meant he’d be on site in no time, which was probably best. No one would know how to protect Penny better than Darius.
The problem was that no one would know how to better use her, either. They were putting another layer between themselves and the guild, yes, but they were also delivering themselves into the hands of uncertainty. Emery knew how to fight the guild. He didn’t know how to fight the vampires. And likely wouldn’t know until it was too late and he was outsmarted.
Now Penny was on her own, completely at the mercy of the one species that could wring every ounce of worth from her person. And sure, she could take care of herself in most situations…but what if she seized up and her magic wouldn’t come? Sometimes that happened to people when they panicked. They turned into a deer in the headlights, freezing until run over.
He pushed off the couch and stalked over to the door adjoining their rooms. Emery braced his hands on the door frame and bent toward it, not sure what to do. This had to be right. Penny’s mom had directed them on this path, and she was the genuine article. A powerful Seer the likes of which Emery had only met once or twice on his journey.
So why did it feel like they were wrapping themselves in Death’s cloak?
A knock sounded at the main door. With a hard stare at the white wood in front of him, Emery pushed off and moved to answer it.
“Mr. Westbrook.” Clyde stood at the door with papers and a knowing smile. “You are looking worlds better. You’re almost another person. Isn’t it a wonder what a haircut and a little water can do?”
Emery turned back into the room, sparing a glance for the closed door, and another for the clock. The middle of the night. They’d need to wrap this up and get some sleep so tomorrow wouldn’t be a wasted day. He wanted to check out some of the guild’s compounds and see how things had changed.
The door closed as he settled on the couch.
“Miss Bristol has been seen to and food delivered,” Clyde said, taking the chair opposite Emery. His back was to the adjoining door. The vampire’s positioning probably meant something, or was being used to convey a message in some way, but Emery had no idea what. For vampires, subtlety was an art form. “I thought you might want to know.”
The tight bands around Emery’s chest relaxed a little. What else would Clyde say? That they’d delivered her drink laced with drugs and scurried her away while he was getting his haircut? Emery had left her completely alone in a predator’s nest—he should’ve been by her side, protecting her.
He was overreacting. He knew he was.
The vampires would want to keep their business relationship with Emery in good standing, and harming or harassing Penny in any way would severely jeopardize it. Because of Emery, Darius had access to some of the most potent, unique spells in the world. No way would an elder vampire throw that away for an untrained natural.
No, elders were interested in the long game. Darius would set this up to pay off in the years to come, not right now. Hopefully by then, Penny would be a rock-star mage. She’d be able to look out for herself.
Emery took a deep breath. His head and his gut were at war with each other.
“I’ve looked over the letter,” Clyde said, “and checked with as many sources as I could reach.”
He’d probably also made a copy and kept it for his records.
Clyde reached forward and placed the paper on the glass table between them. “It is not signed, as you know, but of the three Barons, only two speak Italian. That helps narrow things down. Of course, of the two that speak Italian, only one is proficient.” He paused for dramatic effect. Emery waited. No point playing into the vampire’s sense of theatrics. “This was written by the lesser of the proficient speakers, I am sure of it. But it has been polished up. He must’ve employed a proofreader or cheap translator to catch the larger issues. To an untrained eye, it would pass muster. Given that Nicholas is likely rusty with the language, he wouldn’t notice.”
“Who is the lesser of the proficient speakers?” Emery asked.