Blade Bound - Page 68/108

   “Status?” the mayor asked.

   Mallory and I stood beside each other, Catcher and Ethan on the outside edges like guards.

   “Stable, for the moment,” Pierce said. “The clouds above Towerline continue to spin, but the temperature is holding. There’s been no precipitation in the last two hours.”

   “The Guard has units in the designated emergency zones,” Wilcox said. “They’re working to keep people calm, but with the city frozen over, people who would normally be working are home. They’re home, and they’re thinking.” He slid a glance to me, to Mallory. And for the first time, I saw guilt in his eyes.

   They were going to ask us to turn ourselves over. There might be some pretty words about not negotiating with terrorists, apologies about the sacrifice, but the question would be asked.

   I reached out, squeezed Mallory’s hand in support. She squeezed back, and her expression had gone stony. Whatever fear she might have felt, she was pushing it down, too. Pride blossomed, raising goose bumps along my arms. She was my sister in all the ways that mattered. And tonight, we were in this together.

   “They’re thinking about the money they’re losing, the loved ones they can’t check in on, the property damage they’re likely suffering.”

   “In fairness,” Pierce said, “some of them are probably happy about the snow day.” She looked at me, tried for a smile. I appreciated that she was trying to keep the mood light, but that telltale guilt was in her eyes, too. And I didn’t give guilt a whole lot of credit these days.

   Screw this, I thought, and released Mallory’s hand, took a step forward. She did the same thing, moving to stand beside me.

   I felt Ethan’s magic prickle with concern, but I ignored it, settled my gaze on the mayor.

   “We are all aware of the situation, Madam Mayor, and of the deadline we’re under. And we all know what you’re about to ask. In the interest of time, perhaps we could get to the point?”

   I could feel my grandfather’s concern, too, about the fact that I’d just made demands of the mayor. It certainly wasn’t the usual way of things. But there was no point in waiting.

   Lane made a huffing sound of disapproval. He finally put down the tablet, looked at me with more irritation. But when I slid my gaze back to the mayor, there was something different there. A kind of respect I hadn’t seen before.

   “I appreciate your candor,” she said.

   I nodded, accepting the compliment, while Ethan fumed behind me. But there was no help for it.

   She looked at Wilcox, nodded. “Lieutenant.”

   “Sunrise is at five forty-eight a.m.,” he said. “In order to make the operation seem as realistic as possible, we propose Merit and Mallory present themselves to Sorcha shortly before that time. We move in, take Sorcha down, and end this.”

   “No,” Ethan and Catcher simultaneously said.

   I reached back, put a hand on Ethan’s arm. “Where?” I asked.

   “Northerly Island,” Wilcox said, looking at me. “It was her idea, but it’s a good one. There’s plenty of open space in the park, good visibility, room for a helicopter on standby to land.”

   “How will you neutralize her?” Mallory asked.

   “We’re working with Baumgartner,” he said.

   “You went to Baumgartner instead of us?” Catcher’s voice was barely controlled fury.

   “And the tone of your voice proves that decision was correct,” Lane said. “You aren’t neutral.”

   “Damn right I’m not neutral. You’re talking about using my wife.”

   “Catcher,” Mallory quietly said, but didn’t turn around.

   “Baumgartner and several sorcerers of his choosing will take positions on Northerly Island. When Sorcha arrives to meet Merit and Mallory, we’ll move in and take her down, move her to the supernatural holding facility.”

   He said it so simply, with such confidence, that it was easy to understand why the mayor had believed him. I wasn’t sure if he believed his own words—his poker face was impressive—but the chance he’d pull off that plan without a hitch was approximately zero.

   “By ‘take her down,’ you mean kill,” Ethan said.

   The room went silent.

   “Because you certainly know she does not intend to discuss the situation with Merit and Mallory. She doesn’t intend to ‘take’ them, or to question them. She intends to kill them.”

   “And we intend to prevent that from happening,” Wilcox said.

   “With all due respect, your intentions are worth nothing to me. My wife’s life is worth something to me. Mallory is worth something to me. And your plan is literally a bait and switch,” Ethan said. “She will not fall for it.”

   “She doesn’t need to fall for it. She only needs to believe it’s possible we would give them up.”

   “Which sorcerers?” Mallory asked, interrupting the byplay.

   Wilcox closed his eyes, as if to improve his memory. “I believe he said Simpson, Tangetti, Morehouse.”

   I glanced at Mallory, who met my gaze, shook her head just a little bit. They weren’t strong enough to take her, I presumed. I wasn’t sure if that was an assessment of anyone Baumgartner might have chosen, because any sorcerer he allowed in the Order was necessarily weaker than him, or because these particular three were weak, and he’d chosen them as bait for a battle he knew he couldn’t win.

   Neither was especially comforting.

   “And how are you going to get to her without her noticing?” Mallory asked. “She’ll see a SWAT team coming.”

   “The sorcerers will handle that,” Wilcox said. “They’ll arrange for cover for our folks, and neutralize Sorcha when she arrives.”