Thirteen
Page 67

“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.
“Speaking of these attacks, I have some good news,” Benicio said. “We managed to avert situations in Boston and Denver, based on Hope’s visions.”
 
“There,” Karl said. He was sitting on a sofa at the back of the room, with Hope curled up beside him. He turned to her. “You were helpful. You’ve been thanked. Now you can go back to bed—”
“I need to—”
“You need to rest.”
Hope had looked run down the last time I’d seen her. Now she looked as if she’d been run down, hit by the same steam-roller that had squashed me. Her dark curls were lank. Her face was thinner, bones even more defined. The bags under her eyes had graduated to full-size luggage. But her eyes were bright, alert, and determined. Very determined.
“I need to listen to everything, so I can put my visions in context,” she said. “And I am resting.” She curled up under Karl’s arm, resting her head on his chest, her hand on his leg. “Resting and safe, as long as you’re here.”
Karl rolled his eyes at such an obvious play. But it worked, too. He shifted to make her more comfortable and settled in with a sigh.
Sean and I were up next. Everyone had questions, and there seemed to be some dispute over whether the demon who’d killed Thomas was actually Balaam. No one liked to believe the lord demons were taking such an active role in this.
“This is the second time Balaam has come to me,” I said.
“Everything we’ve learned so far tells us that this fight goes right to the top of the demon hierarchy. They all think they have something to gain or lose if supernaturals are exposed. Balaam is for it. Asmondai is against it. Those seem to be the two factions. I don’t know about the other lords, but the one they all want on their side is the one who’s gone AWOL.”
“Lucifer,” Hope murmured. “He’s MIA and I’m getting all his voice mail.”
 
“Or he’s the one sending you the visions,” I said. “Trying to help without taking sides.”
“Then I wish he’d damned well man up and take one,” Karl growled.
I turned to the Cabal execs. “According to my mother, it’s not just the demons who are choosing sides. We’re getting celestial interference, too. Whether you believe any of that or not doesn’t really matter. Anything you thought you knew about our world? Forget it. Someone has tossed out the rule book. Ghosts can cross the divide. Hellhounds can manifest. Demi-demons can possess living children. Lord demons are taking a hand in Cabal politics.”
I looked at Benicio. “What about the original bad guys? What have Giles and his liberation movement been doing since I left them?”
“We’re trying to find out,” Benicio said.
He explained that he’d dedicated his best resources to finding Giles and his crew, who’d vacated their New Orleans meeting house before the Cabal could invade.
I said I wanted to go back in the field. I knew Giles and his people. They all knew me. Presumably I was still useful to them. So at the very least, I’d make good bait to draw them out.
Benicio said no. Lucas said no. Paige said no. Even Sean—who’s never played the overbearing big brother—said he’d really rather I didn’t. They all insisted there was plenty I could do at headquarters. Only, there wasn’t. I wasn’t a researcher or a strategist. I belonged on the front lines. Here, I was no more useful than any admin assistant.
Yet as long as I was a spell-free target, I was ordered to stay under twenty-four-hour guard. I couldn’t even go back to Paige and Lucas’s condo for the night. Several offices had been cleared and transformed into bedrooms. Benicio was staying on site. While Lucas was away, so was Paige. Only the were-wolves got to take their significant others and leave, and even they had to agree to stay in secured condos and accept armored cars, along with a small army of guards.
So I got a futon in an empty office. Troy got a cot outside the door.
Adam called before I went to sleep. Larsen Dahl had been at the location Bryce had given us, but he’d been moved. They were trying to find out where. Or Lucas was. Adam had been sidelined to rest, like me. If only we were “resting” in the same place, it would have been a lot more tolerable.

I woke up early, feeling as if I had to be somewhere. Then I remembered I wasn’t going anywhere, and lay back on the futon, staring up at the ceiling. Eventually, I realized sulking wasn’t going to do anyone any good. I might as well get up and figure out how I could make myself useful.
There was a suitcase of my stuff in the corner. I dressed and eased open the door. Troy was sitting on the edge of his cot in a T-shirt and boxers, running his hand through his sleep-rumpled hair.
“You don’t have to get up,” I whispered.
“Yep, I kinda do.” He yawned and shook himself. “Compared to Benicio’s schedule, this was actually sleeping in. Just give me a sec to dress.”
I withdrew into the office to wait. I felt bad making Troy get up, but he was used to it. Normally, bodyguards would alternate night shifts, but Griffin was a single parent—his youngest not yet in college—so Troy spent most nights in a bedroom outside Benicio’s.
Troy didn’t have kids. Or a wife. I’m sure he had company when he wanted it—he was decent-looking for a guy in his forties and a big, brawny bodyguard is going to have his appeal at any age.
I’m not the type who thinks people can only be happy with a family, but … Well, maybe I am. A family of some sort. I guess Troy has that with Benicio and the Cabal. He nearly died a few years ago, protecting his boss from Jaz and his brother Sonny. Afterward, Benicio had given him a huge bonus and beefed up his pension, which was his way of saying “If you want to retire, I understand.” Troy hadn’t, of course. I supposed he wouldn’t, not as long as Benicio was alive.
Troy tapped the door when he was ready. He was not only dressed, but looked a helluva lot more awake than I felt.