Rowan wanted to give her a slow clap. Because the way she’d just responded only verified Rowan’s suspicions.

  “Tell me about your business dealings with Fiona Clare,” Genevieve said.

  Ooh, keeping Rose on the ropes. She and Genevieve would tag team to keep her off-balance and unable to spin lies and excuses.

  Relieved, thinking she could handle that question, Rose said, “We’re in the same industry but different aspects of it.”

  “Let’s assume it would be far more helpful if you could give us concrete examples,” Rowan said.

  “For instance,” Rosemary said, “the Sansburys run tours in wine country in Northern California. Limos and party busses, that sort of thing. We pick them up at their hotel or a central point in downtown and a driver takes them to multiple tastings. We partnered with the Clares, who were bringing cruise passengers through southern California. They now have a scenic leg of their trip after the cruise, or before, to take our tours and stay in some of the hotels owned by another witch family.”

  “The Salazars,” Genevieve said.

  “Y-yes.”

  Rowan jumped in. “And the Procellas? Oh, let me guess, they’re the part of this deal with the cruise. Those people offload Procella-run or -controlled cruises, get on a Clare train to Napa where they ride your party limo things, and stay in Salazar hotels. Is that right?”

  Rose’s back got stiff with insult. “Many magical families work with one another. It’s how we keep our businesses thriving when we are so very curtailed in our ability to use our gifts to earn a living. It’s a very lucrative deal and we’ve expanded it to Seattle in the summer and fall as well.”

  Rowan curled her lip. “You mean when you can’t use your magic to manipulate others into doing whatever you want. Yeah, tough world. I’m sure you cry yourself to sleep every night in your eighteen-thousand-dollar-a-month apartment.”

  “You can’t just talk to me that way. You aren’t even a witch.”

  Rowan responded like Rose was a pet, or a toddler. “I’m Rowan. We met at your place. Do you remember that?” Then she hardened. “As I said to you earlier, I can and will talk to you any way I want because I’m in charge and you are not. Now. Let’s get back to the point, shall we?”

  “It’s not illegal to work with other witches. It’s not illegal to make a profit from that work.”

  “It is illegal to use a spell trigger to set off a mage firebomb that killed nine witches and humans,” Genevieve said.

  “You’re making things up because you’re mad at my family.”

  Genevieve laughed, delight in the sound. Rowan found that scary as fuck and clearly Rose did too, because the other witch’s eyes widened and then she tried to scoot her chair back and found she’d been chained in place magically as well as physically.

  “Notice you didn’t deny it, though,” Rowan said.

  “It’s a preposterous claim.”

  Genevieve chuckled at that.

  “The way I see it, Rosemary, you’re involved in some very dangerous activities with some very dangerous people. Witches, to be specific. But see, you’re doing these things in my territory and all of it is just a big giant violation of the Treaty. That and you’re involved with the people who paid to have me killed. So I’m a little extra cranky about that. My car cost a ridiculous amount of money to replace. Normally, I’d just think it was the cost of doing business in my line of work. Except you live in an apartment that costs eighteen grand a month. For whatever reason, that really, really pisses me off. Bystanders could have been injured. Human bystanders. The attack was on camera so I had to hold back so it wasn’t clear I was anything more than a very strong human. That resulted in several more gunshots I could have avoided.”

  “And then you blew up a house we were all inside at the time,” Genevieve added. “Just a great deal of violence over some wine country limo tours.”

  “I had nothing to do with that business on the strip. As for this claim that I was part of a working to blow up a house? Preposterous.”

  Rowan sat back a little in her chair. “I was raised by Vampires. So, I’ve spent every moment of my life having to parcel out who was telling the truth and who was using true things to avoid answering a question they didn’t want to lie about. Most people don’t notice. Which is how people like you get away with it for so long.” Rowan used two fingers to point at her eyes and then toward Rosemary. “I see you, Rosemary. And I see what you’re doing. You aren’t fooling anyone.”

  “You have no proof.”

  Rowan’s laugh was mean.

  “But we do, Rose.” Genevieve shook her head. “Even our youngest are taught their workings leave evidence. Marks and impressions that are theirs uniquely. Like a fingerprint.”

  “That’s just stories they tell kids.”

  “That’s what witches who don’t have that gift like to say. But I do. Have that gift, I mean. When I stood up on that little rise you three used, I saw your magic there. Like I saw Fiona’s and Javier’s. If we hadn’t been there at the time of the explosion, I might have missed it. But I knew the direction the magic came from and that was the clue I needed to find the spot you launched the spells from.”

  “That’s a lie,” Rose said.

  Rowan waved a hand and rolled her eyes. “Here’s the deal, sister. You can help us and give the tribunal a reason to show leniency with your sentence. Or you can keep up this charade and be sentenced anyway. Before you begin to counter like this is a negotiation, don’t. Those are your options, and this is not up for debate.”

  “You have no standing here. You’re not a witch.”

  “I am Rowan Summerwaite.” She stood and leaned down on her arms as she got right into Rose’s face. “I am Hunter Corp.’s sword arm on this entire continent. What are you? A half-talented witch who is fucked. Your actions, documented with all sorts of concrete proof, are a violation of the Treaty the Conclave is a signatory to. Which means you are beholden to it as well. To me, if we want to be poetic. And I do because I’m the only one of the two of us with standing. I am absolutely within my rights to execute you this exact moment. And to be super honest and transparent with you, I’d love to do it because you are a danger to everyone around you.”

  Rose’s bravado faded, replaced by pallor and wide eyes.

  “Yes, look shocked because that means you’re closer to true comprehension here. It means you understand me when I tell you I could kill you, go out for pancakes after, and then sleep a solid eight hours, content in the knowledge you could no longer blow up buildings with the gifts you could have used to win at life instead. So, fuck you, Rosemary, and your simpering bullshittery. I see you for what you are. I know you for what you are.”

  David sent her a text that said Dorothy had regained consciousness and wanted to speak to them.

  Genevieve must have gotten the same text because she said, “Last chance to be useful, Rose. We’re going to head out to speak with some witnesses who’ll gladly fill in the blanks you refuse to.”

  “What does that mean? She just threatened to kill me. You’re a witch too. You’re supposed to protect me!”

  “My job, the job of all witches, is to protect our weakest and stand shoulder to shoulder against threats. You’re the threat this time. As for what Rowan told you just now? The truth.”

  Rose clamped her mouth closed and after a shrug, Rowan turned and said to the witch who’d just opened the door to the hallway, “Please take her back to her cell.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “She’s not going to say a word.” Genevieve used a keypad to get them through to another part of the floor. “She knows we have her on the explosion and that we know there’s something going on between these families. But she thinks she can wait, and we’ll give up.”

  “If you set her free, I’m going to hunt her down and end her myself. Don’t test me. I beheaded a fucking Scion, that bitch in there is nothing by comparison.”

  Genevieve’s laughter relaxed the witch whose back went stiff as she overheard Rowan’s words. Rowan’s serious, totally honest words.

  “She won’t walk free for the next century, maybe two. That bomb I can absolutely track back to her. She’s responsible for the deaths of all those witches and humans and she did it in a public way. However, I can’t deny the pleasure I will feel when she finally figures out she’s done for, and nothing and no one can help her.”

  “I like this side of you,” Rowan told her.

  “I’m exhausted by these machinations. If we didn’t need to know more from them, I’d simply send them all away immediately, stripped of their magic for eternity. Now, let’s go see this poor girl that woman brutalized.”

  “I still think her magic needs to be stripped away for eternity. She’s used it to harm others more than once.”

  Genevieve was leaning toward the same perspective.

  “We’re not going to set her free to let her hurt anyone else. Of that you can be certain.” She’d make the recommendation to Konrad, and he’d take it into consideration along with whatever Hunter Corp. and the Dust Devils had to say.

  * * *

  Standing just outside the double doors leading to the small medical clinic, Rowan was hit by a wave of...certainty. This was where she needed to be. Answers were coming.

  A soft yip had them turning to catch sight of Star trotting toward them. Since the last time Rowan had seen her dog was in Las Vegas several hours before it was a bit of a surprise, but frankly, Star was far more often a help than a hindrance.

  And Rowan didn’t want to fail. Not the woman on the other side of the door or her missing friends.

  Star went to her back legs and braced her front paws almost delicately around any possible sore spots on Rowan’s chest. Then she touched her cool nose to Rowan’s and gave her a quick kiss before going back to all fours.

  It was hard to be sad when your dog touched noses with you. Rowan gave Star a scratch behind her ears before she took a deep breath and got her head back in the game.

  “Dorothy is the key,” she murmured to Genevieve. “My dreams keep sending me here. And with all the bites, there’s obviously a connection to the Vampires.” Clive was already on the hunt for whichever fanged fuckheads were responsible. Rowan would be delighted to help in that endeavor once they were able to speak with the injured witch.

  Genevieve said, “Your foresight brought you here. So this is where we need to be.”

  Rowan wasn’t sure why, but that assurance settled something within. She didn’t have to be believed by everyone, that came with the territory. But it was...nice to have support in her corner.

  The doctors in the room cautioned them Dorothy was still groggy and recovering from some of the treatments she’d gone through. They said nothing about a dog, even when Star put her chin next to Dorothy’s arm and gave her those pretty eyes.

  Pity squeezed in Rowan’s chest at the sight of the witch in the hospital bed. The bites had been treated, the worst of them had been covered by bandages. But there were so many of them, at least half of her body was covered, especially the most-used feeding spots like the throat and arms.

  Why had Vampires mistreated her so badly? Yes, Rowan was familiar with the ways asshole Vamps harmed those they were supposed to protect, but for the most part, they didn’t hurt those who gave their blood to their household. It was threaded into their culture. This looked like an overreaction, but Vampires rarely did anything without a reason, usually four or five of them. So what exactly were they up to?

  Tears welled in Dorothy’s eyes as Genevieve brought two stools to her bedside. “I thought I was going to die.” A sob stole her words and Rowan had to lock down all her emotions before she ended up crying too.

  Star sighed softly and shifted herself to lay her head against Dorothy’s arm. The witch paused a moment before a smile crept over her mouth and she ran her fingertips across Star’s fur.

  “Hello there,” she said, and Star gave an adorable little snuffle snort.

  “You lived, Dorothy,” Genevieve said. “The universe needs you, and your attackers underestimated you. Living is your victory, yes?”

  Dorothy swallowed hard and blinked back tears.

  Rowan began, filling her tone with a flood of comfort and empathy, which Brigid fed her in a steady stream. “We know you’re hurting and confused, and we don’t want to rush you into talking. We need to know what happened so we can better try to find your friends.”

  She’d reached not for violence and menace, but comfort. Compassion. That too, felt like it was exactly how it was supposed to be. Knowledge, knowing slammed through her as all the parts of herself that had been running at top speed in what felt like totally different directions threaded together.

  Like lightning, liquid power—magic—rushed through her veins, leaving harmony in its wake. In all her life she’d been waiting for this moment and hadn’t even known it consciously.

  Genevieve turned her attention to Rowan, her eyes widening as she drew a breath to speak.

  Rowan lifted a hand. “I am well,” she told her friend. And also to everyone watching in the control room so Clive understood he didn’t need to react.

  “Your voice,” Dorothy said.

  “I am a Vessel to Brigid. Her magic is heavy in the room, but it’s good magic. Like Star is good magic.”

  Rowan then realized that much like Brigid being a triple goddess, Rowan, Star, and Brigid were of three in a similar way.

  The warmth returned in Rowan’s chest. Pleasure, she realized. Brigid was pleased with this new accord between them, like a high-speed-train connection.

  Amazing.

  “I want to help,” Dorothy said.

  “Thank you,” Rowan said. “First, know there are multiple teams out as we speak looking for Jaylin and Kerry. My valet is taking notes right this very moment and he’ll get any details to them. Take your time. If you need a break, just say so.”

  “Two months ago, Jay came home from work and said he’d won some contest he entered at the chain restaurant near his job. The prize was a four-day cruise to Cabo, and he called to ask if three of us could go instead of two and they agreed as long as we all shared a stateroom. We were excited, you know? Anyway, there was a party with the winners, a dinner sail that set out from San Pedro. Afterward, when we got back home, Kerry, our other roommate, said she wasn’t going on the cruise.”

  Dorothy took a break to sip some water and catch her breath. They’d given her some medication and also had used various spells to keep her calm and comfortable, so the pain was more emotional than physical. Far harder to manage.

  Dorothy was strong, though. And after a brief pause, she continued with the story. “Some creep harassed her the whole night long and we were on a boat so she couldn’t escape him. I knew the guy she was talking about. He was a witch. There were several witches there, along with a few humans and a Vampire. She didn’t want to repeat it over days of the Mexico cruise, and we didn’t blame her. In fact, Jay and I decided not to go either because the whole night had felt like theater. Like there was some other thing happening that they didn’t want us to see.

  “He told the cruise people, and they started offering all sorts of assurances. Then as we kept saying no, they got mad. They insisted the guy Kerry was talking about wasn’t even going to be on the cruise so there was no reason not to go. But by that point, we all had a bad taste in our mouth over it and their reaction, so we thanked them again but refused and hung up. They called multiple times afterward, but none of us answered.

  “And then two days later they came to the house. I had just gotten out of the shower but everyone else was still sleeping. The bathroom door opened up and before I could fight, they hit me with a knockout spell. By the time we regained consciousness, they’d moved us. We only saw three rooms of the place we were at first. The bathroom, a bunk room where they kept us, and...”

  Dorothy lifted a hand to her mouth, covering it as her lips quivered.

  Rowan knew from experience that some things were hard to speak of, especially right after they happened. Genevieve, too, understood that pain.

  They needed her to tell them what she knew. But she needed to understand they would not force her to part with whatever it was. It was hers to tell however she could manage.

  So Rowan and Genevieve waited until Dorothy got herself together and resumed. “They drugged us and then put us in the other room. Where the Vampires came. At first, they were nice. They fed us and talked to us. Made sure we had showers and all that. Then one of them bit me and took blood. I didn’t want to be fed on. I said so over and over. They didn’t care. They said it was time for us to come live with them. They took Kerry. I don’t know where. She was gone for a few days and then the Vampire—he was different from the other two—who took her did something wrong. I don’t know what, but it made all the other Vampires nervous. They argued and then even physically fought.” She shivered. “Jay and I were drugged into unconsciousness again and when we came to, we’d been placed in a different house. No Vampires. It was witches. Two of them. For several days they acted like they were helping. They treated some of Jay’s injuries. He’d been caught up in the brawl between the Vampires,” Dorothy explained.

  “You said the Vampire who took Kerry was different. What did you mean?” Rowan asked her.

  “It was his accent. His inflections and pauses were unlike anyone I’ve heard before. But it did remind me of a teacher at the Conclave building, Tinto Gaddon. Not the same accent, but the quality of it. He was old, I think, Kerry’s Vampire.”

  Genevieve nodded. “Tinto is at least a thousand. It might be that the accent is from a language and culture that’s changed or even been lost over time.”