“And? Tell me you caught the witch.”

Wrassler whipped his head to me at the words.

“No. The witch left with Dominique. But the same anomaly was in the gym earlier too, unmoving. I tracked the anomaly back and discovered that it—she—came in the front door with Dominique and some were-creatures and left with her.”

“Any way to alter the system to track this anomaly and see it before it gets in?”

Alex hesitated. “I don’t know how the magic works. I could talk to Molly.”

I thought about that possibility for half a second. “I’ll call her. I’m heading home in a bit.” I hit end and told Wrassler what Alex had discovered. He frowned and sat in front of the system, punching buttons to see the anomaly for himself.

A familiar face appeared in the doorway, Shemmy, my sometimes driver. “May I drive you home, Miz Yellowrock?”

My security measures had failed. I was suddenly tired beyond bearing, my legs feeling leaden and my shoulders drooping. I had lost my scarf in the fight and couldn’t make myself go look for it. I did something I seldom ever did. I accepted when a security blood-servant offered to drive me home. “Yeah. Thanks.”

As we walked through the doors together, a car swept in, and a vampire visitor emerged. She passed us on the front stairs, carrying a package addressed to Leo, the name clearly visible. The packaging looked vaguely familiar in terms of vampire business, but I couldn’t remember where I saw the kind before or why. I stopped the vamp with an upheld hand and took the package. It was from Leo’s biomedical lab in Texas. Not my business. I waved her on and slid into the backseat of the armored SUV and closed my eyes.

I didn’t move again until I was back home, when Shemmy opened the door for me and wished the Enforcer a good rest and happy dreams. And then I looked up. And groaned.

I wouldn’t be given a chance to sleep. The windows upstairs were open, the cold breeze blowing the curtains back and forth in the night. I thought about telling Shemmy to take me to a local bar. I couldn’t get drunk, it wasn’t in my physiology, but I could nurse a Coke and people-watch. Instead I said, “Thank you. Drive safely back to HQ.” I blew out a breath and went inside, where I was met with the sound of electric saws running, nail guns thumping, hammers banging, Latin music playing, and men laughing. The cacophony echoed through the house. In my room, I took off the dancing shoes, pulled off the clothes, the sports bra, and the weapons, leaving them all on the bed, and dressed in a soft tee, a ratty sweatshirt, and leggings.

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I sat on the bed, crossed my legs guru fashion, and made a call.

“Hey, Aunt Jane,” Angie said, answering.

“How’s my sweet girl?” I asked.

“I made a big butterfly. Mama punished me. I’m in trouble.” But she sounded proud of herself for the entire episode, even the being-in-trouble part.

“How big did you make the butterfly?”

“Big as my feet.”

My eyebrows went up. “That’s a big butterfly.”

“Yup. Mama was mad ’cause she couldn’t see where I got the mass from.”

My eyebrows went up higher. “You know what mass is?”

“Yup. Energy equals mass times the speed of light squared,” she quoted. “Which means that magic and electricity and sunlight, which are energy, are the same stuff as things I can touch, which is mass or matter. And I can innerchange ’em ’cause they’re just different forms of the same thing. But I didn’t innerchange ’em.”

My entire body had gone cold as she spoke. I was pretty sure my heart had stopped beating. “Okay,” I managed. “So what did you do to make the butterfly grow big?”

“I didn’t make one grow big. I jus’ made a big one come to me. From one of the other places.”

I breathed through my mouth in the beginnings of panic. “What other places?”

“There’s bunches of other places. One has big butterflies with pink wings and purple eyes and blue bodies and feet. I just pulled it over. Mama’s mad at me,” she said again, with pride.

“Give me that phone, young lady,” Molly said in the background. “Go back to your room. And take that dog with you.”

In the background I heard Angie calling her dog and trying to whistle. Into the phone, Molly said, “She told you?”

“About what sounded like she pulled a butterfly from an alternate universe into ours? Yeah.”

“She’s going to be the death of me.” Molly sighed. “That butterfly was a foot wide and had a stinger the size of my little finger. I had to blast it with death magic to stop it.”

“You okay?” My BFF Molly Meagan Everhart Trueblood had a problem with the evolution of her magic and had lost herself to death magic once or twice. That was way scarier than pulling butterflies from alternate universes.

“I’m good. I play a lot of Evan’s music these days and I keep that dang cat close.” The dang cat was Molly’s familiar, though witches didn’t have familiars. Ever. It was too cliché for real life. “What’s up?”

“Two things. First, we had a witch under an obfuscation spell enter through the sensors. The lasers picked up the anomaly, but we only spotted it after the fact. It was too small a change to see it in real time. I’m wondering if there’s a way to rig a ward or a magical something to alert us when someone comes in the door.”

Molly was quiet and I could almost see her pursing her lips and squinting her eyes as she thought. “The entrances have the metal detectors and the X-ray scanners, like at airports, right?”

“Yes.”

“And all the security setup is close by, with cameras?”

My heart thudded down. Right. Magic and electronics. Too much of either in the same place, and something was likely to go bang. Molly’s next words confirmed that thought.

“Anything I might send would fritz out in short order. Someone could set up a hedge outside, but it needs to be hands-on with that many people coming and going. I could call Lachish Dutillet to set one up, but she’d have to stay there.” Her voice sounded amused. Lachish was the head of the NOLA coven and she didn’t like me much. Lachish didn’t like vamps much either. So, no way would she provide security for us against another witch.

“Yeah. No thanks,” I said. “Second, I’m pretty sure we’re looking at the formation of Clan Yellowrock in the fanghead manner in the next few days. You still up for that? Being part of a vamp clan will give you and Big Evan power and protection from other vamps. It’ll help to keep you all safe. Keep the kids safe.” Keep Eli and Alex and all my people safe. But I didn’t need to add that part.

“Janie, I’d suck vamp blood myself if it kept my children safe from the Europeans. Remember, I’m ready to come if and when you need me.”

“This can be handled over an electronic connection. You stay where you are and take care of my next godchild. Understand?”

“I do. I love you, big-cat.”

“I love you too, Moll.”

We ended the call. I stared at the cell face for a while, remembering why I was doing everything in my life—to protect my godchildren. To keep them safe from bloodsuckers who killed or turned every witch they could find and who would take Angie Baby and Little Evan and Molly’s unborn daughter and . . . I stopped the visions that wanted to swarm through me. I didn’t have time for them or for the fear that rode me every time I thought about the danger the children were in. Brick by mental brick, I blocked away the images and the panic.

Pulling out a notepad, I wrote a note to Alex to check on the injured guards and Tequila Antifreeze. I left it on his desk in the living room.

Barefooted, I traipsed up the stairs to the second floor and stopped at the landing. The hardwood-floored landing ran the length of the house from front to back, a wide hallway separating the four bedrooms into two on the left and two on the right, with old-fashioned bathrooms on each side. From the bathroom Eli used, I caught the faintest hint of lemon, before it vanished on the air currents rushing through the house.

Paper had been taped over the hardwood and there was a load of lumber on top of it. A table saw sat in the middle of the room, three ladders of various styles were propped here and there, a skill saw lay on its side, and hammers, measuring tapes, pencils, cola cans, and fast-food wrappers were everywhere. A boom box played from somewhere out of sight.




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