Genevieve and Darius went first to deal with what turned out to be multiple spelltraps. Deadly ones.

  “I expect these witches to be punished for that,” Rowan said. “Anyone could walk in here and get injured or worse. This is more very public wrongdoing and I’m not here for it.”

  “The wipe here is markedly similar to what they did at Dorothy’s house. Quickly done, so it’s not complete.” Genevieve shook her arms and wrists, jingling and clacking, and on an exhale she said something, and a warm mist of magic seemed to fall all around them.

  A team of witches and some of Pru’s Hunters rolled through to gather evidence once it was safe. Whatever Genevieve had done, suddenly all the smudges and sparkles where magical workings had been performed seemed to bloom into life.

  No one had been left behind, but the imprint of several witches was clear, and Genevieve made a call.

  “We’ve found the original location,” Clive murmured to her. “Stephen Baker’s scent trail led us.”

  “Well, isn’t that a delightful irony? Since he’s in custody, he’s less of a threat.”

  She itched to find Dorothy’s missing friends. Jaylin was a maybe, but with the specter of Mardoc or another very old Vampire having taken Kerry, Rowan knew their window for finding her alive was getting smaller with every moment that passed.

  “They’ve arrived and are locking it down.”

  Konrad had gone with them and after they did a check of the house, the group joined everyone else at a mixed-use commercial building in San Pedro.

  “Super close to multiple cruise terminals,” Rowan said as they pulled to a stop around the corner.

  Darius opened the door. “First thing. Some of Genevieve’s team located Jaylin. He managed to make his way to the house again and called the Conclave. They’ve taken him to the clinic where Dorothy is.”

  Rowan breathed out all the anxiety she’d been swimming in as she’d worried over him. “Good to hear.”

  He nodded once. “There are life signs inside. Three.”

  Clive had melted from the car, disappearing off somewhere. Rowan figured it was to check in with his team.

  Darius looked her over carefully and then nodded once, apparently judging her capable of whatever might lie ahead.

  The sun was coming, so she—and Star, who’d turned up to trot along at Rowan’s side—made for the post the others had created in the neighboring building, in the back room of a clothing store.

  “What have we got?” she asked once she got there.

  “One Vampire on the third floor,” Patience informed them. “Two witches on the second in a room fronting the street.”

  “On watch?” Rowan would handle the breach of the building differently if they were.

  “They’ve been stationary. One appears to be in a bed and the other is sitting.”

  “There’s a television. The one sitting is facing it,” Konrad said as he approached from outside. “I sent a team over to the Clares’ home to be sure no one leaves.”

  Once they finished planning how they’d enter the building and handle the apprehension of all those inside, Rowan caught Clive to the side. “Sun is coming. Go home. I’ll see you after sunset. I won’t go back to Las Vegas without you unless it’s absolutely unavoidable.”

  He took her features in carefully and apparently was satisfied by that promise, because he gave a nod. “Have a guard with you at all times. No driving. Don’t kill any of the guards outside our house here. I adore you and expect you to be careful and not get any more injured than you are.”

  “You must think because there are lots of people around you can be bossy without getting socked in the taint,” she whispered in his ear.

  “You always bring the party wherever you go. But as I value my wife, I’ll repeat my request that you be careful.” He risked a squeeze of her hand. “Once you’re inside safely and the three there are secured, my Vampires and I will leave to take to our rest.”

  “I love you, Scion.”

  He gave her a sexy smirk. “What a lucky Vampire I am.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Rowan knew without a doubt this place had been used multiple times over at least a few years. There was a great deal of energy fairly throbbing from the walls. Plenty of powerful Vampires had been there.

  There was a main room the team skirted, as they’d discovered it had cameras installed. Furnished comfortably. All the windows to the outside had light tight coverings. Big kitchen. Swanky formal dining room but also a smaller space in the eat-in kitchen.

  Rowan wanted to talk to the Vampire before he lost consciousness when the sun rose, so they headed to that room while Genevieve and Konrad were handling the witches on the floor just below.

  She breached the door quietly—but not quietly enough a Vampire wouldn’t hear. The Vamp took the bait, rushing at her, and Rowan hopped to the side to avoid his attack. Easily and with a great deal of force, she brought her cane up, striking him as hard as she could in the throat, resulting in a pretty gross thwack of crushed muscles and tendons.

  Brown eyes widened and then watered as he gagged, bending, bracing his hands on his thighs. Rowan used that momentum, kicking out the side of his right knee. He screamed, high-pitched and full of pain, as he crumpled to the floor with a thud.

  “Do not,” Rowan warned as he presented her with a mouth full of sharp teeth and his hands bent into claws. “My name is Rowan Summerwaite and you’re under arrest. I have a warrant issued from Hunter Corp. and the Vampire Nation. I have the freedom to serve it as an order for execution. If you fuck around, I will cleave you in half.”

  At her back, Marco chuckled. She hadn’t realized he’d come in. Instead of being pissed she’d missed it, she chose to be grateful for the backup.

  “What are you arresting me for? You can’t just come in here like this. You broke my knee!”

  “My goddess, I wish you fucking scumbags would come up with some new material. If I had a dollar for every time someone I was serving a warrant on told me I couldn’t just do this or that thing I totally can, and absolutely will do, I’d be able to retire and not have to deal with the dregs of society like you and your criminal buddies.” She flipped him off. “Your knee will heal, just like your windpipe did. I’m arresting you for multiple violations of the Treaty. Kidnapping, assault, attempted murder, and you’d best hope I don’t find out any of the people you took died, because I’ll hang that around your neck too. You’ve done all these things so recklessly you’ve threatened to expose our existence to humans. Oh! The Vampire Nation has a bunch of its own charges too. That’s if you’re alive after I’m done with you. David, light this fucking room so I can get a photo of our prisoner.”

  Marco hit the lights and David nodded his thanks before taking pictures and sending them to all interested parties.

  “What’s your name?” Rowan asked.

  He sneered—because of course he did—so she grabbed the arm restraints from the backpack she’d brought along, jammed a booted foot into the small of his back, and cuffed him. He tried to fight but she was by far the stronger. Plus, his knee popped out of the socket twice, and she got pissed and gave him her cane to the back of his head. Soon enough he sagged, defeated.

  The cuffs were something Hunter Corp. Research and Development rolled out recently. When fully cinched and secured, movement was painful. Escape—in Vampires like this one with middling power levels—was next to impossible with a Hunter within arm’s reach.

  “There’s a wallet on the top of that dresser.” Rowan tipped her chin and David grabbed it, tossing it her way. Inside was five hundred dollars in cash, parking garage stubs—handy to track movement—a punch card for a coffee chain and a burrito stand, as well as a California driver’s license.

  When some states began to have evening hours at their licensing bureaus, Vampires could manage to be law-abiding citizens and get their licenses. The Nation encouraged such things. It kept that mask on between the supernatural world and the human one. For whatever reason, it was harder to believe someone was a Vampire if they had an official state identity card.

  “Brandon Forman.” She called the name out to David, who nodded and tapped his screen at a high rate of speed.

  “Alice is sending light tight transfer,” David said, anticipating her next sentence.

  “Whether it’s a body or a still-living Vampire will be up to Brandon.”

  The Vampire’s eyes wheeled with panic. “We didn’t have anything to do with those two running off. The witches are the ones in charge. It’s their fuckup. I’m just a go-between.”

  “You’re not a born Vampire. Given the hair I’d say you were Made in the early 1980s. Certainly you’re old enough to understand what is going on here. There is no putting the blame on the witches. They’re dealing with their own troubles just now. This is what you have done, Brandon.” She shrugged.

  She sent him a glare that promised blood if he said a thing.

  Satisfied with his compliance when he shut his mouth, Rowan continued. “Here’s where we are. Like I said, I have the paperwork—and certainly the will—to kill you true and be fucking done with you. Goddess knows the world will be safer without you prowling around hurting people. However, I prefer not to have to ruin these pants because I like them a lot and frankly, I’m tired. Killing Vampires takes a lot of energy and there’ll be more paperwork I have to fill out. So. Here’s what you’re going to do to save your life. Answer my questions. Honestly. Starting with the big one. Where did Mardoc go after he left with the human woman?”

  * * *

  Less than an hour later, they’d handed Brandon off to Alice’s Vampires when they showed up in a windowless serial killer van to take him away. Alice also informed Rowan she’d sent all the information Brandon had given about Mardoc’s possible movements with Kerry to Andros.

  Then they’d headed over to the Conclave headquarters in Pasadena to have a little chat with Teresa and the other witch who’d been at the place in San Pedro with Brandon.

  Genevieve paused at the first set of double doors. “This is a null facility. I do not think it will impact your connection to your goddess, but I always find it uncomfortable, so I wanted to warn you up front.”

  Warmth bloomed through Rowan’s veins. Brigid didn’t seem worried.

  “Explain. Please,” Rowan added. She wasn’t opposed to any of this, she just wanted to know exactly what was happening. “It comes back when we leave, though, yes?”

  “All prisoners are stripped of their magic before they’re sent here. We are under no such liability. However, beyond this set of doors, no one’s magic works. A null cage has been created. The simplest way to explain is a bubble exists between the walls of this building and the outside. No magic can pass through. For witches who are interviewing or otherwise not under arrest, their magic returns once they leave.”

  It made sense in that way that really didn’t make sense if you examined it too closely. Which, Rowan felt, most magic seemed to be.

  “What about the geas? Can we bring the witches who have one here so they can be free of it?”

  “A geas is far more complicated than nullifying a spell or magical talent. It’s old magic. Oath magic. One of the few things we can’t simply wipe away. If we can’t get whoever set the geas on the other witches to undo it themselves, it can be unraveled, but it takes a lot of time and multiple practitioners. We’re already starting. But it’ll be at least six months, perhaps eight or ten, until we can erase it from just one of them. Then it starts over for the next. Messy, time-consuming business.”

  Genevieve sounded tired and totally pissed off. Rowan could identify.

  “So we need to break whoever created them on first. Save a bunch of work on your part and hopefully find our victims quicker.”

  There was a joint Vampire/Hunter team assembling in Nigeria to move on Mardoc’s compound in neighboring Chad. Brandon confessed that all the adepts Mardoc had acquired were sent there. Since Mardoc was at the Keep, Rowan had to hope someone was taking care of Kerry’s needs. If there were other survivors there, help would be given to them as well.

  She’d hear back within the next hours, so she tried to put it out of her mind.

  “Let’s question Teresa first.”

  * * *

  Genevieve had never met Teresa Davis, but she was relatively unchanged from all the photographs they’d seen of her over the years. Shoulder-length coppery hair. Fair complexion. Green eyes that landed immediately on Rowan and narrowed.

  Genevieve wanted to laugh at that. If Teresa only knew what she was about to go through with Rowan, she’d change all the calculations she was furiously crafting in her head. But, as Rowan herself liked to say, sometimes they needed to touch the stove to know it was hot.

  “I demand to speak with an attorney,” Teresa said.

  Rowan looked over to Genevieve, shaking her head. “I thought you all would be smarter, as a whole, than Vampires. How wrong I was. Present company excluded, of course.”

  “Hello? I asked a question.” Teresa snapped her fingers.

  In a blur of movement, Rowan slammed her fist into Teresa’s face. “Don’t be rude. You didn’t ask a question. You made a demand no one is going to comply with. If you don’t want another shot to the teeth, you’ll stop this nonsense immediately.”

  Teresa’s eyes widened and her skin paled with shock.

  “There we are,” Genevieve said smoothly. “You understand your place in this little play. No attorney. You played human games, but you’re a Genetic witch. The Conclave is in charge. You and your friends have engaged in a conspiracy to stalk, kidnap, and traffic in adepts. Selling them for a minimum of a hundred thousand dollars a head. In addition to forced imprisonment, assault, attempted murder, and murder. We have evidence from multiple sources. There are a dozen of you in cells with the Conclave, as well as Vampires who are in the dungeons below the Keep where the First resides. Hunter Corp. has shifters, witches, and Vampires in its custody. Imagine, if you will, how many of them are angry and scared and oh so eager to be the first to take the offer to answer our questions truthfully. And then imagine not being one of those who are helpful. It’s entirely up to you which one you are.”

  Rowan snorted. “Terry, everyone in this room knows what you are. Let’s hear it.”

  “My name is Teresa,” she said.

  Rowan waved it away. “Whatever. Are you going to chat, get a chance to brag as well as make sure we understand just who did what? Or, are you going to try to be snooty about your name to a person who does not give one tiny fuck in a high wind about your opinion of whatever you’re called?”

  “When did you start this business?” Genevieve asked.

  * * *

  Fiona Clare hadn’t been prepared for Rowan—actually Darius, but on her request—kicking her fucking door in at nine twenty-two in the morning so it was icing on the cake as she came rushing down a beautiful curved staircase, rage on her features.

  “Get out of my house!”

  “Hi, Fiona! We’re here to arrest you and your husband.” Rowan waved her cane and opted to strike a rather beautiful vase sitting on an antique table. The sound of the porcelain shattering shut Fee right up.

  “You really should speak to a therapist about the pleasure you take in breaking things,” Genevieve teased.

  “I don’t need my destructive tendencies fixed. They’re a prerequisite tool for my job.”

  In the background, Fiona had made it to the entry and gotten over her shock enough to start screeching again.

  “Shut your mouth,” Genevieve snapped and the magic in the command formed as Fiona’s lips met. “Don’t bother trying to undo the spell. It’s beyond your skill level and your magic has been nullified.”

  “You can try to punch me if you like,” Rowan suggested.

  Genevieve fought a smile. “Let’s stop goading our prisoner.”

  Gerard burst out of a side door with Konrad at his back. Rowan waved at him.

  Two other witches from Konrad’s team stepped into the entry.

  “David, please go with a few of Konrad’s people. Search every last inch of this place,” Rowan said.

  Marco turned up. “I’ll accompany them all. Help disable any traps.”

  Since it had been Marco’s magic that had protected David at the Procella mansion, Rowan was absolutely all right with that.

  “What is happening?” Gerard demanded.

  “Teresa says hello,” Rowan said. “She’s a survivor, that one.” Once she’d realized they meant it, and she could take a deal and roll or she’d be the one the rest testified over, she’d started talking.

  Naturally, she shifted the blame, made herself a bit player, and they’d let her believe they didn’t know any different.

  Teresa also divulged everyone but the Clares had a geas on them as it concerned their little enterprise. And that it was Fiona who’d done the spell. Which meant she’d have to be the one to lift it.

  First, it meant Rowan was free to get info from Hugo and Sergio as it pertained to the attempts on her life because that wasn’t part of the geas. They were going down. But she wanted them to confess their bullshit with this little adept ring of theirs too. Or at the very least, be free to deny it even as they were convicted.

  “My cousin Teresa?” Fiona asked, yanking her attention back.

  “Why’d you unseal her lips?” Rowan rolled her eyes at Genevieve.

  “I asked a question.” Fiona tried to be imperious, but Rowan lived with a Vampire, so it was a pathetic attempt by comparison.

  “You’re under arrest by order of the Conclave,” Konrad said.

  “For what?”

  Rowan rattled off the charges and added, “All that, plus using coercive magic in the commission of those crimes. There are some other charges that will follow. You moved Vampires, witches, and humans across state and international lines. You used your magic to blow up a house in a neighborhood full of humans during broad daylight. You used your familial connections to break into Conclave records to locate many of the adepts you were selling to the Vampires. It’s all very serious.” Rowan used her uninjured leg to kick a shard of expensive vase in Fiona’s direction. “Those are violations of the Treaty.”