"I'm not squeamish," Tessa protested. "I just don't want to hear about you and Curtis."

  "I wouldn't mind hearing about you and Julian," Ollie said, winking with exaggeration.

  "No," Tessa said flatly. "I'm leaving."

  Ollie chuckled softly as she watched Tessa flee the room. Tessa was strong as hell, but she was terribly easy to manipulate. Mention sex in any form, and she started blushing, stuttering, and looking for the nearest exit.

  It was one of Tessa's more adorable traits. Her stubbornness was one of her less adorable traits, but Ollie knew she came by it naturally. As far as she could tell, all of the Graves were stubborn. They were also born with a preconceived notion that they were always right.

  The problem was that they weren't.

  Ollie cast an irritated glance at her punching bag. They just didn't make metal rings the way they used to. It was the third time this week she had knocked the bag off the stand.

  She would have liked to go for another round or two, but she wasn't tall enough to maneuver the punching bag back into place all on her own. With an irritated grumble, she slammed the heel of her foot into bag, feeling slightly mollified when it slid across the floor.

  It was just as well it was down. After all, Tessa had given her a job, and it was time she got to it. She sighed heavily. She loved drinking. And she loved the imps. But drinking with imps was never a good combination.

  Tessa texted Jury as she walked towards the Hidden entrance. She was embarrassed that she hadn't thought of such a simple solution, but she was glad that Ollie had. Knowing whether or not she could actually trust them would make everything infinitely easier. She would even have Jury check Pops and Julian. Just to be sure.

  Things were falling into place perfectly now, just like the end of a puzzle.

  There was part of her mind that warned her not to get too excited. There were too many contingencies to really cover, too many variables to plan for; and she was making way too many assumptions.

  She knew that all of those things were true. But there was something else she knew to be true. Something that she had come to accept as immutable.

  She wanted to be the one to find him. She wanted to be the one to invade his space. She wanted to be the one to infiltrate his home and hurt him. But, if she somehow failed to find him, the patron would eventually come to her. And this time, she would be ready.

  Tessa made an effort to push thoughts of the patron from her mind as she walked quickly through the Hidden towards the Magistratus headquarters. It was on occasions like this that she wished the Hidden would get with the times. It was a pain in her ass to walk all the way to Sagena's office just to tell her to come with her to the tetrarch's office, but it was what it was.

  A few minutes later, a growling Sagena was striding beside Tessa as she walked towards the tetrarch's office.

  "I don't see why you have to involve Simon," Sagena complained. "The Magistratus is under my command. It's my case, my vault, my problem."

  "I think that you'll find the vault belongs to the Hidden government," Tessa replied. "Which is headed by the tetrarch."

  "Humans are pathetically easy to kill," Sagena snarled.

  "Go for it," Tessa shrugged.

  That response seemed to throw Sagena, and Tessa cast her a sideways glance and said, "There's something Doc taught me when I was really little. He said 'don't ever make a threat that you've no intention of carrying through on.'" Tessa grinned widely, although she knew it wasn't a friendly smile, before saying, "And I don't."

  Sagena made no retort, and Tessa left it at that. She didn't like Sagena. She didn't like working with her, and she didn't want to be around her any longer than was necessary; but she wasn't out to destroy her, and she really hoped she never had to.

  By the time the tetrarch's bodyguard ushered them into the tetrarch's office, Sagena was fuming. She hadn't said anything more; Tessa could just feel her irritation, and she knew that Sagena was about to get a hell of a lot more irritated.

  Tetrarch Redgrove looked up from his paperwork and said evenly, "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure, Ms. Graves?"

  "It's about the vault," Tessa said. "There's no case."

  "No case?" Sagena sputtered. "Are you out of your mind?"

  The tetrarch held up his hand, and Sagena snapped her mouth closed.

  "Suppose you tell us why there's no case, Ms. Graves," he said.

  She didn't mistake him. He was sitting behind a desk, he was dressed in a suit that rivaled anything Doc had ever owned, and his words were perfectly chosen, but he was a war chief masquerading as a business man. She was certain he was a man who never made threats, and she was just as certain that he could crush her just as easily as she could crush him.

  "I think you'll find that the paperwork went missing," Tessa said firmly.

  "What paperwork?" Sagena demanded.

  "The Hidden Council made a request for certain artifacts several years ago, and Tetrarch Mitcham honored their request. No crime has been committed. Nothing was stolen. The artifacts were simply transferred from one government to another."

  "Based on what?!" Sagena practically yelled.

  "The evidence," Tessa stated.

  She was currently involved in a very complicated facial conversation with Tetrarch Redgrove. His eyebrow had risen at her statement, and she had raised both of hers and nodded in return.

  At which point his eyes had narrowed, and he had said, "Is that so?"

  "Yes," Tessa said.

  "She's making this up!" Sagena accused. "There is absolutely no evidence for such a claim!"

  "The paperwork went missing," the tetrarch mused.

  "Probably just got misfiled," Tessa suggested.

  "That's a very real possibility," he agreed.

  "Simon!" Sagena snapped.

  "You know how difficult it is to keep track of all the forms, Sagena," he replied.

  "The artifacts were stolen," she ground out.

  "Based on what?" he returned.

  Tessa knew she was playing a dangerous game, pitting the siblings against each other like this, but she had known that Sagena wouldn't take her word for it. She would have kept investigating, and that was a very dangerous thing to do. The only thing that would stop Sagena from continuing to investigate was the tetrarch's order.

  "Based on… Based on the fact they're missing!" Sagena spat.

  "Yes, they would be if the US government requested them," he said logically.

  Sagena growled angrily and started to speak, but something she saw on the tetrarch's face stopped her.

  "We didn't use to play games like this, and now it's all we do," she said instead, voice harsh.

  "I'm sorry," the tetrarch said softly. "There is much at stake."

  "I will make sure the forms are found," she growled, putting a certain emphasis on "found", and then she cast a furious glance at Tessa before storming from the room.

  After the door slammed behind her, Tetrarch Redgrove turned his weary gaze to Tessa and said, "I do hope you know what you're doing, Ms. Graves."

  "I'm sorry I involved you," she said truthfully.

  "I understand why you did. Sagena does not particularly care for you."

  "Thank you for listening," Tessa said. "If you'll excuse me, I have other cases I'm working on."

  He nodded, and she quickly left.

  She was surprised to find that she felt oddly sorry for the man. Overseeing the entire United States Hidden was no small task, especially when the US government was looking over his shoulder all the time. And the witches' council. And all the residents of the Hidden. And his sister.

  She shuddered just imagining it; it was hard enough dealing with just Ollie and Gisele.

  Tessa was halfway across the street before she realized that Sagena was lying in wait for her.

  "I don't know what kind of hold you have over him," Sagena snarled once Tessa was within earshot. "But I'm going to break it."

  "It's not like that," Tessa shrugged. "It's just politics."

  "Politics!" Sagena spat. "What a worthless word!"

  Tessa couldn't argue with that.

  "I wish he had never become tetrarch! It's ruined him."

  Tessa felt a sudden urge to defend the man; and although she didn't know why, she gave into it anyway.

  "He's doing the best he can," she insisted.

  "You're defending him?" Sagena hissed.

  Tessa considered that. "I am," she said thoughtfully.

  She never defended anyone. What was happening to her?

  Sagena was studying her oddly, and suddenly her shoulders sagged, and she said softly, "He is doing the best he can, isn't he?"

  Tessa didn't know how to answer that. She wasn't even sure what had happened. One second Sagena had looked ready to tear into her, the next second she looked ready to cry.

  "I wish he would just walk away," Sagena said, face full of anguish. "But he won't."

  "Would you respect him if he did?" Tessa asked.

  "Yes!" Sagena exclaimed.

  Tessa didn't believe that.

  "You would rather he save himself than try to protect the Hidden?"

  "Yes," Sagena insisted.

  The desperate look on Sagena's face reminded Tessa of Julian's eyes when he had tried to get her to run away.

  "If he runs," Tessa said softly, "he wouldn't be the brother you love; he would be someone else."

  She nearly cringed when she heard the words coming out of her mouth. She was starting to sound like Curtis, and she didn't like it.

  "I have to go," Tessa said. "I'm sorry I handled it that way, but I knew you wouldn't listen to me."

  Sagena just nodded, and as Tessa walked away, she knew that her relationship with Sagena had just shifted, but she didn't really know why. She was terrible with people. She could read them just fine, but she had never been able to understand the nuances of their emotions.

  Virgil hadn't liked emotions. He had said they made people weak. He had said they clouded reasoning, and she had believed him. But now… Now she didn't know. She didn't know anything except that everything Virgil had ever said was wrong.

  Chapter 14

  "What do you think about emotions?" Tessa asked as she sat beside Curtis a few minutes later.

  "How do you mean?" he asked.

  "I don't know," she admitted. "I don't understand them."

  "I don't think that's true," Curtis replied. "I think you don't want to understand them."

  "That makes no sense," she argued.

  "There has been no room in your life for emotions," he pointed out.

  That didn't make sense to her either, and she told him so.

  "Perhaps I am wrong," he shrugged. "It simply seems to me that you would have had a much more difficult time reporting to the patron these last fifteen or so years if you were emotionally involved."

  "You may have a point," Tessa acknowledged. "But that doesn't really answer my question."

  "What question?"

  "What do you think of them? Are we better off without them? It seems as if it would be easier for people to make logical decisions, right decisions even, if their reasoning wasn't clouded by emotions."

  "Example?"

  "Sagena wants her brother to walk away from being tetrarch because she's scared for him," Tessa said, still remembering the desperate look in Sagena's eyes.

  "Ollie kicked the punching bag so hard it broke the ring," she went on. "Because she's driven by anger. Julian wants me to run because he's driven by fear. Mrs. Prescott's housekeeper injured Mrs. Prescott because of some sort of weird jealously. People are always doing stupid things or thinking stupid things or urging other people to do stupid things because they can't think straight past all of their emotions."

  Tessa knew she was parroting Virgil, but she couldn't see past it right now. Maybe in this one instance he had been right. He couldn't possibly have been wrong a hundred percent of the time; that was illogical.

  "Do you pursue the patron because you are angry?" Curtis asked.

  "No. I'm doing it because it needs done."

  "Why does it need done?"

  "So he can't hurt anyone ever again."

  "There is no emotion?"

  Tessa didn't know. She had never sat around evaluating herself and her feelings. She hadn't even known she had feelings.

  "Why do you smile when you see Julian?" Curtis asked.

  Tessa frowned and tried to really think about it. Finally, she said, "Because I like seeing him."

  "Is that not an emotion?"

  "It is, but is it a useful one?" she asked.

  "Is happiness not useful?"

  "I don't know! That's what I'm asking you!"

  Curtis chuckled softly, but it was actually Rishma who answered her question.

  "Have you ever been in a patch of fog?" Rishma asked, suddenly leaning on the bar across from her.

  She glared at him for eavesdropping, but she nodded anyway, curious to see what he would say.

  "It makes everything grey, kinda seeps the color from everything, the life, the vibrancy."

  She nodded once more.

  "That's life without emotions," Rishma said. "Flat. No depth, no variation. Just is. Life with emotions is like a patch of flowers, all wet from the rain, but the sun just came out, and it's shining so brilliantly that everything practically glows. You know? That's why you smile when you see that man of yours. Because you feel, and feeling adds depth and layers."

  "It also adds shadows," she pointed out.

  "Who said shadows are bad?" Rishma countered. He slid a bottle of whiskey her way, and said, "Your man agreed to draw you for the poster. Don't let me down."

  "Go away," Tessa ordered. "And stop eavesdropping. It's rude."

  "You're in a bar," Rishma laughed. "Everyone eavesdrops."

  "I must be losing my mind," Tessa muttered after Rishma had wandered back down to the other end of the bar.

  "Why's that?" Curtis asked.

  "Because that actually made sense to me. When did I start listening to bartenders?"

  "He's not just a bartender," Curtis replied. "He's Rishma."

  Tessa made a noise of disgust. She didn't care what anyone said. Emotions muddied the waters. A pool of water without emotions was perfectly clear, and you could see all the way to the bottom, but a pool of water with emotions looked like a frigging mud puddle. Sure, Rishma's thing worked too. Emotions did make things brighter and more vibrant. But they got in the way and made it harder to see things the way they really were. Emotions made it harder to see the facts.

  "Everyone's love and concern for me is going to make it difficult for them to do what needs to be done," Tessa said softly. "I can't imagine any of them pulling the trigger to end the patron, of the arts," she added in a soft whisper, "if it also means killing me. I'm better off doing this on my own."

  Curtis was silent for a long moment, but he eventually said, "Look at the Cadwels. We all worked together, and we won."

  "We were united in a single purpose; survival," Tessa said wearily. "But now we're not. My purpose is to kill him. That is my one goal. I don't have room for any other goals. Just that one."

  "And ours?" Curtis asked.

  "You're all still trying to save me," Tessa whispered.

  "And why wouldn't we be?"

  "Have you ever heard the term 'that ship has already sailed'?"

  "No."

  "It means that the action or boat is already out in the sea, sailing, and you can't pull it back in. It's on its way." She paused, sighed, and said, "I'm already on my way, Curtis; there's no drawing me back in."

  She hadn't said it aloud yet, but she could to him. Curtis could handle the truth, and he could help her shoulder the burden of it.

  "Jury said he would help me," Tessa went on. "Actually, he demanded to help me; and for a moment, I thought 'if he helps, I don't have to die'. But then I realized that the patron, of the arts," she added a little desperately, "is still inside of me. And if I participate in his death in any way, I may as well put a gun to my own head and pull the trigger."

  "You can't know that," Curtis insisted.

  "I can," Tessa said. "I can't even think anymore without the troll scale. I gave it to Jury for a moment, and the waves of pain just tore me under. My mind… My mind's broken. It's twisted beyond repair," she said, desperate to make him understand.

  "Killing the patron isn't going to fix me; it's just going to light the final explosive. God, I'm using a lot of metaphors today," she grumbled. "I hate metaphors. If you can't understand something without a metaphor, what's the frigging point?"

  She popped the cork off the bottle that Rishma had set in front of her and drank half of the whiskey inside before sliding it over to Curtis.

  "And even if I did survive, I'm pretty sure my liver's burnt," she murmured, trying to add some levity to the moment.

  "I'm not going to stop fighting," Curtis stated, voice even lower than usual.

  "And that, right there, is the problem," Tessa sighed. "You have to stop fighting for me, and you have to start fighting to kill him. Don't you get that?"

  "Why can't I do both?" Curtis argued.

  "Because to fight him, to end him, also means to kill me. If you're trying to protect me, you'll hold back; and I would rather die a thousand times than let the patron live."

  "I begin to see what you're saying," Curtis murmured. "About emotions. And I begin to wish that I had been happy doing nothing."

  "No," Tessa said. "Never that. Never nothing. You're part of this. He's been hurting people, abusing them, forcing them to do things against their will, raping them, Curtis, raping them, stealing their choice from them, stealing their minds; and we can stop him. You're part of that. When he dies, you should rejoice because look at how many people you'll free!"

  "I only want to free you."

  "I need you," Tessa said firmly. "I need to know that you can do it. I already know Julian can't. I already know that Gisele can't. I'm not convinced that Jury can, I feel like Doc's guilt for leaving me would probably hold him back, and I'm not sure about Ollie. I need to know that I have you. That I have one person in my corner who I know will kill him, no matter what."