I opened my mouth, readying a vehement protest of her exceedingly disturbing suggestion.
Estelle disappeared.
Kett sighed again, harshly. “The message?” he asked, lifting his gaze to the sunrise-tinted ceiling.
A thick parchment envelope landed on the coffee table beside him.
Jasmine looked at me with wide eyes. “Teleportation?”
“Apparently.”
Declan swore under his breath in Creole as he retreated into the bedroom, presumably to find some clothing. He dropped the towel on the floor, giving me a fantastic view of his hindquarters. I quickly reached for and shut the door, turning back to find Jasmine smirking at me.
Kett had opened the envelope and was reading its contents. “Yale will need some time before he is able to answer questions.”
“Time?” I asked. “How much time?”
“However much time it takes him to reabsorb the blood that he’s been drained of. Apparently, he attempted to escape a few days ago and paid heavily for the infraction. None of the elder vampires will feed him, and human blood will take longer to revive him.”
“Okay,” I said, my heart sinking deeply in my chest. “Okay, well … we take the timeline that Jasmine is piecing together of Yale’s movements and we keep looking for other locations. And … other missing children.”
Jasmine nodded, already settling down in front of her laptop. “I’m going to focus on the time between Chicago and Litchfield. We know New York is a possibility somewhere in there.”
“I’ll order breakfast. We’re going to need more than the fruit and juice we picked up.” I retrieved the room service menus from beside Jasmine’s elbow.
“Declan is getting coffee and something … donuts or bagels,” Jasmine said. “Maybe you could check in with Lavender, ask her about Coral? Maybe they’ve accessed more of her memories.”
I nodded as I turned back to knock lightly on the bedroom door, wanting to retrieve my phone from charging on the bedside table. I was more than happy to be directed toward some useful effort. Hanging around waiting for opportunities to collect reconstructions was wearisome, which was why I was usually called in only at specific times during an investigation.
“Why is New York a possibility?” Kett asked Jasmine quietly.
“We figure that’s where the vampires connected us,” she said. “You and me.”
I knocked on the door again.
“Yeah!” Declan called from inside the room. I took that as an invitation to enter.
“Kett?” Jasmine whispered behind me. “You can still see the bites?”
My heart squelched as I darted into the bedroom to grab my phone. And so I didn’t have to hear Kett’s answer.
“She’s not all right.” Declan spoke quietly from behind me.
I wheeled around to face him, pleased to discover he was fully clothed in his typical black T-shirt and jeans.
“She was okay,” I said. “But … maybe she was just hiding it.”
He nodded. “I’m glad she moved in with you.”
“It’s the investigation, I think. Even before we tied Yale to Ruby’s kidnapping. But I … I guess we could hand it off.”
“No. I get that it’s personal now. But she’ll be fine with us to balance her. Though honestly, I wish the vamp wasn’t here. I …” Declan clamped his mouth shut on whatever he was going to say, then shook his head.
“Yale’s involvement makes this a Conclave matter,” I said.
He nodded, not meeting my gaze. “Right. Okay. I’m going for coffee. You like a dark roast, no cream or sugar. Yes?”
I couldn’t help but smile a little. He had just pretty much described himself. Physically, Declan was the complete opposite of Kett. Dark haired and dark skinned. Tall and bulky, rather than chiseled and lithe. And maybe, just maybe, that complete contrast was good for me, for my heart. Maybe that would give the vampire and me a chance to cement the bond that was being forced upon us.
Declan laughed lightly, responding to my grin. Smirking, he turned to grab his money clip and keychain from the bureau. He hesitated, brushing his fingers across the twelve tiny reconstruction cubes that decorated the keychain. The reconstructions I’d collected with him in mind, and which I’d sent to him for every birthday we’d spent apart, even though we hadn’t been in contact.
I tore my gaze away from him, scrolling through the contacts on my phone for Lavender’s information.
“Wisteria,” Declan said, not looking up from the tiny, softly glowing cubes. “It’s more than the assault, than the kidnapping, for Jasmine. She … we … we’re both struggling with losing you.”
Unbidden tears flooded my eyes. I struggled unsuccessfully to keep them in check. “I know,” I said, finding my voice. “I know. It would be the same for me.” Leaving the tears that had fallen to trail down my cheeks unhindered, I met his gaze. “But … it’s selfish of me. But I won’t lose you. You or Jasmine. If I accept Kett’s offer, I get to keep you.”
I pressed my hand across my chest, pausing to breathe against the block of pain lodged there.
“You don’t know that Jasper would come after us,” Declan said softly.
“You felt him take the estate magic back.”
“It’s his to wield.”
“It isn’t. Not how he chooses to wield it.”
“So you’re going to be the Fairchild moral compass now?” The edge was creeping back into his voice.
I wiped the tears from my face.
Declan grimaced, turning away to angrily stuff his keys and money clip into his pockets. “I … I find it difficult to talk to you. About this, about anything.”
“But you have Jasmine,” I said. “And she’ll have you. And that has to be enough.”
“You’re just so goddamn rational about it,” he said, snarling.
“I try to be.”
He nodded stiffly, then left the room without another word.
And I cried. As silently as possible, I stood between the messy beds that had held the only two people I loved in this world just an hour before, and I cried. I cried for all the sleepy evenings I was going to miss. I cried for all the coffees and breakfasts we wouldn’t share. I cried over losing Declan again, having already lost him once before. Having lost what might have been between us. I cried.
Then I gathered my sorrow tightly into my chest, just as I gathered magic into a reconstruction cube. I held it there, breathing through it, absorbing it. And I recalled Jasmine laughing, leaning into Declan in the restaurant in Litchfield. I remembered his smile and their ease together.
They were going to be okay without me.
I went into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. Then I dug around in Jasmine’s makeup bag for her under-eye cream, hoping it had magical properties, because I certainly needed all the help I could get.
Finally, I called Lavender for an update on Coral. Putting aside my pain, putting aside the looming future, because Ruby might still be alive.
And if she wasn’t?
Then Kett had made me a promise. For Ruby. For Jasmine. And I’d make certain that Yale paid.
Chapter 5
“I’ve got nothing,” Jasmine said, throwing her hands up in the air as I entered the main area of the suite.
“You’ve been looking for five minutes,” I said, glancing up from the notes I was still typing into my phone from my conversation with Lavender — a transcript detailing our two minutes of stilted communication, which had only served to inform me that she and Nevada hadn’t uncovered any additional leads into Ruby’s whereabouts.
“No, I mean I’ve got Yale’s movements mapped out.” Jasmine was perched over her laptop, which she’d set up on the desk in the parlor area again. “From New York to Chicago, then to Los Angeles. But I don’t have anything else connecting him to LA.”
“And any other missing witches?”
“None that I could find who fit the timeline. And nothing registered with the Convocation.”
I sent my notes to Jasmine, who grunted in acknowledgment when they popped up on her screen. I tried to think about the many ways an Adept like Yale could hide from magical investigation — and all the ways he might kidnap a witch such as Ruby, who wouldn’t necessarily be immediately reported to the Convocation. “What about local law enforcement?”
“For a missing witch? How would I even make the distinction from mundanes? I need to figure out where Yale lives, or lived. Like, whether he maintained a residence where he could have been keeping Ruby.”
I nodded, content to follow Jasmine’s lead. Not finding any substantive evidence to support Kett’s theory of Yale’s possible predilection for feeding on children, or at least on young Adepts, was a positive outcome. One missing child was enough.
“Where’s Kett?” I asked.
“Who knows? Doing whatever he does when he needs to feed but can’t ask to feed on us.”
My jaw dropped.
Jasmine snorted. “He’s too pale. Even for him. His magic is more present in his eyes. I get the impression he has a hard time being around the three of us. You know, without tearing our throats out. You heard his maker say that thing about him and witches? And here I thought I was unique.” She laughed, softening the wry twist of her voice.
“Actually, I was putting the flight crew on notice.” Kett’s blisteringly cold voice emanated from behind me. “I thought it would distract Jasmine, so I stepped into the hall.”
I glanced over my shoulder.
The door to the corridor was slowly closing behind Kett, his phone still in hand. He raised an eyebrow at me. “We’re heading to LA?”
“Are we?” I asked.
“Yep,” Jasmine said, completely nonplussed over being overheard. “I’ve verified another car rental on Yale’s credit card. In Los Angeles for three days at the beginning of January. So after New York and Chicago, but before he drew my attention in Connecticut. He also withdrew more cash from an ATM there. So I’ll keep digging, but we might as well be on the jet heading there while I do.”
“All right. You’re the lead investigator.”
“And don’t you forget it.” Jasmine flashed me a grin. “We’ll head out as soon as Declan gets back with breakfast. What’s taking him so long?”
“Well, you did demand the best coffee,” I said.
“For you, Betty-Sue.” Jasmine jumped up from the desk, packing up her computer and other electronics. “For you.”
Hustling by, she kissed my cheek, offered Kett a saucy grin, and exited into the bedroom.
I called after her. “I got nothing new from Lavender, by the way.”
“I already read your notes.” Her voice faded as she crossed past the partially open door, getting ready to pack and change.
“She implied that the sooner we found Ruby, the better.” I pitched my voice a little louder so my best friend could hear me. “Which wasn’t particularly helpful.” I looked at Kett, including him in the conversation. “The witch, Lavender, intimated that having Ruby back could possibly help the reader deal with the block on Coral’s mind.”
“Lavender’s a delightful witch.” Even practically yelling from the other room, Jasmine’s sarcasm was unmistakable. “So caring. And professional.”
I looked at Kett questioningly. “Based on the weeping bite marks already on Coral’s neck at the beginning of the reconstruction, Yale bit her, then exerted his … powers of persuasion. Is that … normal?”
“The gift is different for everyone,” Kett said. “Beguiling victims is generally within every vampire’s abilities. Clouding a mind, taking a snippet of time so you may feed, is a combination of the influence of venom and a vampire’s skill at wielding forms of telepathic magic. What Yale has done is … rash, clumsy. There was absolutely no way he wasn’t going to be caught.”
“Can you undo it?”
“No. I am no healer.”
“The reader, Nevada, has no experience with this. The Convocation is seeking out a telepath with some understanding of vampires. So far, they’ve been unsuccessful.”
“Most vampires aren’t so stupid.”
“Can Yale fix it?”
That question gave Kett pause. He tilted his head thoughtfully. “And if he could? You know that he would demand a favor for doing so.”
“He can bargain for his undead life.”
A slow smile spread across Kett’s face.
“What?” I asked. “I can be Machiavellian. I’m a Fairchild, after all.”
“I don’t think you are,” he said softly. “You are much, much more.”
Heat flushed my cheeks at the compliment. At the hint of tenderness backing his words.
Jasmine popped her head back into the room, wearing only a pretty pink lace bra, low-slung jeans, and a wide grin. “I can be cunning too, you know.”
Kett inclined his head.
I laughed. “No one doubts it.”
She shrugged. “I’m not a fan of games, but you don’t have to shield me so much. Either of you.”
She retreated back into the bedroom before I could respond.
I glanced at Kett, offering him a smile. “I should change too.”
“We should discuss my maker … Estelle …” I could tell that he really didn’t want to talk about any such thing, but it was lovely that he was willing to offer.
“Do you make me justify my crazy family?”
“The ones I’ve met, Jasper excepted, aren’t in the same league as my maker.”
I shrugged. “They’re comparatively young yet.”
“Estelle, to whom you understand you will likely be bound, plays games that take centuries to unfold.”
I nodded, ignoring the way my stomach twisted at the idea of such a timeline. “You haven’t met my mother yet. Or Dahlia. Trust me, Estelle is out of practice.”
Kett laughed abruptly, then appeared surprised that he had done so. Grinning, I followed Jasmine into the bedroom to change and pack. I, however, closed the door behind me.
Kett had a white SUV in the hotel parking lot. We drove to a private airport just outside the city center, finding his Learjet waiting for us. So, despite the intermittent showers and thick fog that had encased the city that morning, forty-five minutes after Declan returned with coffee and donuts, we were on our way to the West Coast.
Upon climbing into the jet, Jasmine immediately commandeered one of the white leather center seats and began plugging in every device she owned.
“Remember to charge your phones,” she said bossily as I settled into the seat across the aisle from her and Declan took the one seat in front of me, rotating it to face Jasmine and me.
Neither of us argued. Though I’d barely used my phone, I didn’t want to do anything that could possibly dampen Jasmine’s renewed energy. And Declan had just been silent since arriving back in the hotel room, emitting that brooding quiet that should have driven me crazy — but which instead made him crazy endearing.
And that said way more about me than it did him.
Kett disappeared for the takeoff, which seemed to be his regular routine, and I found myself wondering if he actually had anything to do with piloting the jet. Or maybe he was simply such a control freak that he couldn’t leave such things to mere mortals. Perhaps life became even more precious when you could live forever. I cast my mind back, recalling Kett’s behavior when we’d confronted the necromancer Teresa Garrick in a graveyard teeming with zombies. How he’d laughed. How he seemed to relish the challenge that a necromancer of power had presented.
We’d left a massive mess that evening, and —
I sat upright in my seat, unaware that I’d been lightly dozing while the plane leveled off. “Jasmine.”
“Yeah, babe?” Jasmine muttered around the rainbow-sprinkled chocolate donut she’d brought with her onto the plane.
“What if you looked for unusual events?” I asked. “In LA, in early January.”
“Like what? A mass slaughter that the Convocation didn’t notice?”
“Like a mess that was small enough to not get the authorities’ attention. A mess connected to a child. A witch not necessarily registered to the Convocation.”
Jasmine was staring at me. “That’s a little vague.”
“Like … like …” I racked my brain, formulating the thought and trying to offer possibilities at the same time. “Magical events that could have been explained away, but which might indicate that Yale screwed with other people’s thoughts.”
“People reporting missing time? Again, too vague to track down with any efficiency.”
Declan was watching me intently as he sipped a coffee. I noticed the three copper-and-raw-gem rings he wore on his right hand. I’d only gotten a glimpse of them before. Normally, he kept them shielded from view. I lifted my gaze to meet his, and he curled his lips, noticing my attention. Then he stretched his legs across the aisle, settling them only inches from my own.
Each of the three nested, hammered-copper bands he wore contained a single birthstone — a raw topaz, a sapphire, and a fire opal, representing each of our birthdates.
We all carried our past, our connection to each other, differently. Jasmine had her tattoo, I had my bracelet, and Declan apparently had his rings. Though it was likely that those rings served double duty. Raw gems and copper were perfect for storing the energy spells he wielded so skillfully. That, along with his blasting rod, was the type of magic Jasper would have taught Declan once his talent asserted itself.
Declan.
Jasper.
“Like Declan …” I said, continuing as if I hadn’t become lost in my own thoughts. “Declan’s birth wouldn’t have been registered with the Convocation. Your mother wouldn’t have bothered, would she? Not being a witch?”
Declan frowned, but then he twirled his fingers, inviting me to continue.
“And when Jasper came for you in New Orleans, who knew? Who would have noticed?”
Declan laughed edgily. “A vampire would have had a difficult time snatching me, even at nine.”
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