by Renée Jaggér
“Apparently, Vaughn has ways to circumvent those laws.”
That was worrying. If Vaughn had ways of getting around the laws and knew people high up in the government, he was going to be difficult to deal with. I hoped I was wrong about him hiring Jax. Ronan didn’t say it, but the implication was there. He must’ve figured it out too, I thought. He must have realized Vaughn was the only one who had something to gain if the vampires and the fae went to war. But was he? I knew nothing about the summer court. I filed that thought for later when Ronan kept talking.
“Maybe we can get Jax’s file too,” Ronan suggested. “I can call Vaughn. It might help.”
“No thanks,” I said, turning around to face the portal. “I’d rather not deal with Vaughn anymore unless I have to.”
We stepped through the portal. Ronan might’ve thought it would be easier the second time, and maybe it was, but I still felt like I was drowning in goo. Whatever the portal was made of, it felt like walking through thick, melted plastic. I came out the other side gasping for air and choking.
“Are you okay?” Ronan patted my back as I bent over coughing.
“Yeah. Just remind me next time to hold my breath.”
“There won’t be a next time if I can help it,” Ronan said, helping me up.
I frowned at him. “What do you mean? Don’t you want me to join your mother’s court?”
“You saw how she was. Is that the kind of court you want to belong to?”
We started walking at a slow but steady pace. I wanted to move faster, but I needed to reserve my energy. Chances were good that my confrontation with Jax would end in some sort of fight. If I wanted to have a chance at taking down a vampire, I needed to be in peak physical condition.
“No,” I said hesitantly. “But do I have a choice? I mean, I have to choose one or the other, right? There are only two options?”
Ronan nodded. “Either Mab’s court or Titania’s. Winter or summer.”
“What about being independent?”
Ronan stopped walking and turned to face me. “I’m sorry, I thought I made that clear the last time we talked. Neither Mab nor Titania will allow you to remain independent. You need their permission. Permission from both of them. That means they’d have to agree, and they haven’t agreed on anything since the beginning of time.”
“I thought you said that there were independent fae, even if they were few and far between.”
Ronan started walking again, albeit slower. “That is true. However, all the independent fae I know of either predate Mab and Titania, or they are powerful enough to run a court in their own right but choose not to.”
“But I am pretty powerful,” I said practically running to keep up with him. “You said so yourself. Not just anyone could bat Mab’s spell back at her like I did. There has to be a way.”
He waved his hand, dismissing the thought. “We can talk about that later. You have thirty days to decide. Right now, we should probably come up with a plan. How do you intend to get Jax to show himself?”
Despite what I had told Mab, I wasn’t comfortable using Ronan as bait to draw Jax out. Maybe we could find a look-alike, or Ronan had a spell that could create an illusion.
When I asked him about it, he laughed. “Magic doesn’t work like that, Callie. I can’t just make a copy of myself. Some days I wish I could, though.” He stopped me again just before we got to the house. “I know you told my mother you didn’t think the other vampires were behind Jax’s assassination attempts, but that’s not true, is it?”
I turned away, not wanting to face him as I admitted I had lied, even if it was a lie by omission.
“You think Vaughn is involved,” he continued.
I nodded. “Not only do I think he is supplying Jax with the weapons and ammunition he needs to shoot you, but I think this whole thing was Vaughn’s idea. He set it all up. He recruited Jax, armed him, and set him up as your personal trainer, and when he was called on to investigate, intentionally obstructed that investigation. Think about it, Ronan. Vaughn is one who does your background checks. How could Jax have slipped through? When Vaughn ran the background check on Jax, he would’ve known Jax had a military service record. Did he share that with you?”
Ronan shook his head.
“The question is, why?”
“Greed?” Ronan shrugged.
“Maybe,” I agreed. “But he’s already filthy-rich from his Department of Defense contracts. He is the CEO of a Fortune Five Hundred company. What does a guy like Vaughn Meyer gain from a war between his people and yours? It feels like it should be something more substantial than money. There are easier ways for someone who’s already rich to amass more wealth. Easier ways than sacrificing hundreds, if not thousands of lives.” I pulled up the control app on my phone. “I hope I’m wrong.”
“And if you’re not? What will you tell Mab? Will you tell her the truth if it leads to war?”
I considered the question, my hand resting on the knob. If I was right and I told Mab, I would be sending people to their deaths. Did I want their blood on my hands? Did I want to be responsible? It wasn’t an easy choice to make: to tell the truth, or save lives. What kind of crazy, messed up world did I live in for the two to be mutually exclusive? Besides, I wasn’t sure Vaughn was the only choice for the villain of this piece. There was still the summer court, although I didn’t immediately see what they had to gain except to weaken the winter court.
“I will do everything in my power to prevent a war,” I said. It wasn’t a complete answer, but it was one I could live with.
I pushed open the door, only to find myself face to face with the barrel of a gun.
“Reach for the sky, bloodsucker!” Sam shouted and pulled the trigger.
I yelped as a blast of icy water sprayed me in the face. “Sam! Cut it out! What the hell?” I shook water from my clothes.
“Oh, sorry! I heard voices and the door rattled…and you two said you wouldn’t be back for a long time, so I thought…” Sam pulled a hand towel down from where it hung near the stove and held it out to me. “I’m sorry, Callie.”
“A squirt gun?” Ronan confiscated Sam’s weapon before they could do any more damage.
“I found it in the pantry when I went to find something to eat. It’s full of holy water,” Sam chirped.
“Holy water?” I lowered the towel. “Wait a minute…”
Sam nodded.
Ronan chuckled and handed the squirt gun back to them. “You thought we were vampires.”
“Ronan, I swear, I didn’t tell Sam about vampires or fae or anything,”
He held up a hand and shook his head as if it wasn’t a big deal that my roommate had somehow figured out there were supernatural monsters in the world.
I turned to Sam. “How did you find out?”
They gave me a guilty look and then stared at their sneakers. “I might have spent the last few hours watching a bunch of footage and reading your security logs.”
I slapped myself in the face. Of course, that was the first thing Sam would do. I’d written every detail in the logs, not anticipating needing to bring them into the house. Anyone who might see the logbooks and security footage already knew about vampires and fae.
I sighed and held out my hand. Sam slapped the water gun into my waiting palm. “You know you can’t just make holy water, right? There’s a process. And it doesn’t work on vampires…does it?” I looked at Ronan.
“It does not,” he confirmed. “Although a spray of ice-cold water in the face is sure to stop any intruder in their tracks, at least for a moment. I admire your ingenuity, Sam.”
Sam beamed, but their smile quickly faded. “Oh, and um, sorry about the smudges on the pages. They might or might not be the Death by Chocolate ice cream from your freezer.”
I put both the water gun and the towel on the counter. Smudges on the security log were the least of my worries. I was running out of time to come up with a plan that would help me catch Jax and stop the fae
and vampires from going to war with each other, and Jax wasn’t going to take my calls.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out. It was a reminder that Ronan was supposed to meet someone for lunch.
Ronan fished his phone out of his pocket at the same time. “Well, I guess I’m canceling my lunch date.”
“Wait a minute.” I waved my phone at him. “Did you give one of these to Jax?”
He shrugged. “I give everyone on my staff a phone, so they can have access to my schedule.”
“Can I work for you?” Sam asked.
“Not now. I think I’ve figured out how to get him. Sam, you know people in the performance arts. Do you think you could help us book a venue?”
They blinked. “Sure. What kind of performance?”
“Musical,” I said. “Whatever it costs, find us somewhere tonight.”
“I know the perfect place.” Sam’s smile widened as they scrolled through their phone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I lowered the phone. “Okay, Ronan’s schedule has been updated to reflect the concert. Now all we need to do is get him there in time and make sure everything goes as planned.”
Ronan snapped his violin case closed. “Are you sure this will work? What if he doesn’t have his phone anymore? Or he suspects a trap? What then?”
I didn’t know how to answer him. This was my one shot. If it didn’t work, I was out of ideas, but I couldn’t tell him that. “It will work,” I said, tapping the phone on my open palm. It has to.
Sam came out of the back of the house, tucking their hands into their back pockets. “Everything is squared away with the Palace Theater. The venue is yours for a private show for the rest of the evening. Are you sure you don’t want Columbus PD on standby?”
I shook my head. “Human cops will just get in the way. This is something we have to handle on our own. Besides, can you imagine explaining vampires, fae, and magic to a Columbus cop?”
Sam snorted. “Good point.”
Ronan picked up his violin case. “Are you sure you want to do this, Callie? Jax was your friend. This isn’t going to end well. You might even have to kill him.”
That was a point I had already considered. Jax was beyond a friend, more like a brother. We had served together, shed blood together, and watched our friends die together. That was a bond that couldn’t be bought, a respect that could only be earned between soldiers. If I fought my brother-in-arms, was I betraying that bond? Was I betraying him?
I took a deep breath. “You hired me to protect you, Ronan, and that’s what I’m going to do. The Jax who is trying to kill you is not the Jax I served with in Iraq. This new Jax may wear his face, might have his voice, and might even have his memories, but it’s not him. The Jax I knew died the day he was attacked in Iraq.
Ronan blinked, hesitating. “I believe you.”
That makes one of us, I thought. “Come on. We’d better get to the car, or we’ll be late.”
Sam put their arms around me. For once, I was ready to have the air squeezed out of my lungs. “Good luck. Oops, sorry. It’s bad luck to say good luck to a performer, isn’t it?” They grinned. “Break a leg, Ronan!”
“Please don’t. I don’t want to have to explain that to your mother.” I escorted Ronan from the house to the car, scanning the area as I walked. The chances that Jax would be nearby were slim to none, but I could not be too careful. He knew where Ronan lived, and after his last failure, he’d be desperate to perform. I hoped that meant he was motivated to show up at the Palace Theater. I didn’t think his vampire employer would tolerate half measures.
The drive across town was nerve-wracking. I couldn’t help but track the cars outside the window, wondering if Jax was in one of them. In my mind, I pictured our confrontation. If I was careful, maybe I could just disable him. Shoot him in the leg or the arm, or somewhere else nonfatal. Even as I thought that I knew it wouldn’t work. Jax would keep coming after Ronan. The only way to stop him was to put him down.
“I always wanted to play the Palace Theater,” Ronan remarked.
I turned away from the window and found him gripping his violin case hard enough that his knuckles had turned white. Although his face didn’t betray it, he was nervous. Maybe as nervous as I was, and for a good reason: his life was on the line.
I flashed him my best reassuring smile. “Sorry it couldn’t be a show with an audience.”
Ronan chuckled. “Well, maybe one day. Then again, I have people looking at me all day, every day. It’s kind of nice, knowing I can perform without an audience for once, even if it is only the violin.”
“You say that like the violin is easy or something.”
He shrugged. “It is for me. I’ve been playing almost all my life. If I’d had more time to prepare, I would’ve liked to do a one-man show.”
“You mean, like those guys who play the kazoo and the piano and tap a drum with their foot?” I tried to imagine Ronan doing an act like that and wound up snickering because it looked so silly in my mind’s eye.
“Everybody’s a critic!” Ronan finally let go of his violin case and crossed his arms. “Okay, Miss Music Critic, what kind of music do you like?”
“You know, the normal stuff: Metallica, AC/DC, The Chili Peppers. Anything that doesn’t sound good played on a violin.”
Ronan laughed at that. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. It’s a complete misconception that you can’t play metal on a violin.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t play it, just that it wouldn’t sound good.”
He leaned forward. “How’d you like to make a bet? I’ll bet you a steak dinner that I can play one song from each of those bands and make it sound good.”
“You already owe me a steak dinner for saving your life from the awful iron smoothie.” I glanced into the rearview mirror. Was that black Suburban following us, or was I being paranoid?
Ronan suddenly put his hand over mine. “Thank you, Callie.”
“For what?”
“For everything. Not just for saving my life. I know you think that’s part of your job, but not everyone would do that. Not only for that, but for supporting me with my mother. For being there in general. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”
My cheeks warmed, and I pulled my hand away. “You can make up for it by not dying today. I’d hate for you to ruin my perfect record.”
“You know, it’s okay if this doesn’t work. No one is going to hold it against you if he doesn’t show.”
I’ll hold it against me, I thought. And probably Queen Mab too. She won’t be happy if anything happens to you. Actually, that was an understatement. She’d probably skin me alive or worse. Who knew what sorts of punishments that creepy queen was into?
“It will work.” I leaned forward to address the driver. “Can we take the next exit?”
“Exit for the Palace Theater isn’t for another few miles,” he said.
“I know that. A black Chevy Suburban has been behind us for a few more miles than I’d like. I want to make sure it’s not tailing us. You can get right back on the highway if I’m wrong.”
Ronan frowned and twisted in his seat to look out the back window.
I grabbed his arm. “Don’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because if they are following us, we don’t want to tip them off that we know. Nobody would be following us right now for a good reason. Just in case, you should settle into the seat and try to keep your head down.” I didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to shoot at us on the highway, but if Jax was getting desperate, there was no telling how far he’d go.
The exit took us downtown, where traffic was thick. Buses crowded the right-hand lane, and busy people hurried on sidewalks, checking their watches to make sure they could make their last meeting of the day. At first, I didn’t think the Suburban had followed us, but then I spied it in the mirror two cars back. That doesn’t mean it’s following us, I told myself. They could just be
going downtown. Lots of people go downtown, especially at this time of day.
As we sat at the light, I came up with every excuse in the book for why that black SUV had been in our rearview mirror almost since we’d pulled out of Ronan’s driveway. Even if they were following us, that was no proof of sinister intentions. Ronan was a celebrity of sorts. Maybe he’d attracted some paparazzi. Maybe he had a crazy fan. The longer we sat at the light, however, the more sure I became that it was Jax or someone working with him.
“Take a left,” I told the driver.
“But I’m in the right turn lane!”
“If Callie says take a left, Vernon, you take a damn left!” Ronan ordered.
The light turned green, and the tires on our sedan screeched as the driver hit the gas and spun the wheel to the left, cutting off traffic. Horns blared and brakes squealed. Angry drivers waved fists and fingers, but we managed to make a left turn without causing a wreck.
I spun in my seat and watched as the Suburban pulled out of traffic into the oncoming lane and sped after us. The car came close enough I was finally able to see through the windshield and make out the details of the driver's face. It wasn’t Jax, but I had seen him before. It was one of Vaughn’s henchmen. There was no doubt in my mind that we were being followed.
“Drive faster!” I shouted to the driver.
He stepped on the gas and the car lurched forward. My back pressed against the seat with the sudden increase in speed. We jerked into the shared turn lane to avoid traffic, then back into our lane. I thought I was going to be sick as the driver wove in and out of traffic, trying to lose the Suburban, but he handled the car like a pro.
We sped up by the convention center, and the driver jerked the wheel to the left. Our back tires screeched as they slid across the pavement, and the car sailed onto Nationwide Boulevard. After another hard left, we slid into a parking garage and bounced over a speedbump that sent me sailing towards the ceiling. With all the skill of a professional stunt driver, Vernon slid the car into a tiny parking space between two big trucks and immediately shut off the engine.