Chapter Twelve
Rowan strolled into the room right as Lotte was speaking. She placed the box she’d carried down from upstairs on the low table between the couches and chairs. David had another box he placed next to that one.
“I caught the tail end of that conversation as I entered. Found nothing is such an interesting way to put it.” Rowan held up a cell phone, loving the expression on Perfect Suit’s face. “Surprise, it’s nothing! I’m obviously much smarter than you, but kudos to you for not warding the little cache space built into the floor beneath your bed. That’s why no one found it.” Well, that and the way they had only given a cursory glance at the staff quarters but whatever, that was a Conclave problem. Rowan had enough of her own to go borrowing theirs.
“Because the magic of the wards would have indicated something was there when a scan was done,” Genevieve said. “That is very clever indeed. So how did you find it, Rowan?”
She wasn’t going to give away this newly risen talent for seeing magical imprints. She could trust Genevieve of course, but there were several witches from the Conclave who’d come at Genevieve’s summons, as well as the guard whose arm she’d broken, tied up and miserable in a chair on the other side of the hallway.
But it wasn’t the only thing that had led her to that hiding place. The rest had been intuition and detective work. Stuff she did all the time.
“Criminals are never as clever as they think they are. All the bedrooms in the staff wing are staged in the same basic way. A large area rug the bed sits on while the rest of the room has wood flooring. I had a hunch they didn’t look beneath the rugs because the beds were heavy and probably hard to move.”
Genevieve’s left eyebrow rose slowly. It had been lazy not to move the beds. They’d made a quick calculation and bet against something being probable. They were dealing with assholes who took out a hit on a cranky Hunter, and some stalking of another witch. Rowan figured the witches Konrad had sent were well trained enough that if the search had been urgent, they’d have been more careful.
But if they had worked for her, she’d make them all go get more training at the very least and it appeared Genevieve agreed.
“Imagine my surprise when David and Marco began to shift the bed and discovered a latch on the footboard that unlocked. The whole thing, rug and all, was on little casters, so they just had to tug to move it all at once. Easily. The cache was pretty large and was chock-full of things Lotte didn’t want us to find. Then we looked in the other staff and guest bedroom suites. About half had such a system but none of the rest had anything inside, nor did they have the setup Lotte did with the casters to move the bed easily. David has gone back up to search the family bedrooms.” Marco had volunteered to help so Rowan knew he’d be safe while she handled other things.
“My.” Genevieve set her cup down a little harder than necessary as she swiveled to take Lotte in better. “As you heard when you came in, Lotte was just telling me she had nothing to say.”
“The phone had a bunch of calls made to the same number over the last few days. Several to and from the landline at Sergio’s Gloat Palace. A lot to Hugo’s number before and after the attack, though the after went unanswered.” Rowan shook her head. “So sneaky. I admire that, actually. Anyway, since we had the unknown number with all the calls, we were able to locate the signal and find the phone, along with Alfonso Procella, in one of the presidential villas at an oceanside resort in Laguna Beach. He’d been there since Lotte told him we were looking for Hugo, five days ago. Konrad is involved and sent someone to the scene.”
Genevieve hummed. “Well. Lotte is very industrious. It’s really too bad they’ll all be incarcerated. Maybe we can find ways to turn these criminal tendencies into virtues. I do believe you will have some things to say at this point.”
“What would you incarcerate Alfonso for? You said yourself Hugo was in custody. You were searching for him to ask about Hugo’s whereabouts. Now you know. What crime is there?” Lotte asked.
Genevieve’s smile turned into something darker, sharper. Rowan had seen that a time or two and it had never ended well for whoever she was looking at. “Alfonso is in a great deal of trouble and an overwhelming amount of it isn’t even related to Hugo. The irony is, we wouldn’t have noticed any of this if you hadn’t been so rude to Rowan and Hugo hadn’t acted like a predator.”
Rowan chuckled. “Right? Hard to be thirsty for attention and a successful criminal at the same time. One will get the other caught. For beings who like to think they’re better than humans, you sure act like them a lot.”
Lotte’s face darkened as she registered the insult.
Goddess, Rowan loved offending assholes.
Amused, she dug around in one of the boxes from upstairs. “There are some memory sticks and,” Rowan’s words were cut short when a concussive explosion rolled from the northern-facing part of the house toward them. The hair on her arms rose as she hit the floor, bounding up to her knees again to grab Genevieve and pull them both under the table, yanking all the protective magics she could imagine around herself, feeling the snick-snick-snick of that power weaving around her. Over that, the cool metallic shell of Genevieve’s magic seemed to bubble around their bodies.
Then the heat came, a molten hot flash that sucked all the air from the room, like a fucking freight train of fire barreling through. She tried to hold back the panic over how David was faring. The Devils would likely be all right. Marco was with him. Marco would keep him safe. He had to be safe. She could not stand losing anyone else.
Be calm.
Brigid’s words soothed as they sounded inside her head, a steady stream of warmth coursed through her veins, full of comfort and strength. Those moments allowed Rowan to gather her wits and get herself under control. There would be a point coming when the explosion itself would die, and she’d need to be up and in action.
The fire ate everything in its path as it roared through, high-pitched and relentless until it finally died off.
The protections around Genevieve and Rowan fell away.
The stench of burned things rose—people, furniture, plastic—and Rowan’s breakfast lurched in her gut a moment.
Thoughts of David got her moving again, as she reached to push the table aside. Before she could though, Darius was there, lifting it, and then Genevieve before he handed Rowan her cane and took her weight a little as she got to her feet.
A circle of space around the table had been totally untouched, including the boxes of evidence she’d found under Lotte’s bed.
“I’ve got to see if David is okay,” she said, trying not to panic as she took stock of her physical state. Nothing new appeared to be broken.
Then she caught sight of what was left of Perfect Suit and the guard whose arm she’d broken and winced. Not even enough for DNA identification.
Darius put a hand on her arm briefly. “He and Marco are fine. We need to leave now before the authorities arrive. There is nothing incriminating left. We’ll take the boxes with us.”
Rowan had been ready to rush upstairs anyway, but David hurried up, clearly as concerned for her as she’d been for him. “I’ll drive. Are you hurt?” he asked as she willed away her tears of relief.
“No. I’m fine. I think a combo of Genevieve, Dust Devil, and Goddess magic protected me and our evidence.” No use talking about that twinge in her upper arm and the low throb of general discomfort. She was alive. They’d come through that fire when everyone and everything else had been turned to ash.
Gratitude was in order. When the adrenaline wore off, she’d most likely be hurting a lot worse.
“Good,” David told her as he hustled out with her and the others after the boxes of evidence she’d had with her were loaded into the back of her SUV.
The once obscenely large mansion still smoked, and though the main walls still stood in most places, the roof was gone. The windows had been blown out. Whatever that spell was, the way it hit hard and fast and had burned everything in a matter of seconds was quite concerning. Rowan would address that with Genevieve once they had gotten clear of the place and couldn’t be overheard.
Whatever Devil magic it was, her vehicle, along with the one the Conclave had sent over, had all survived and they got the hell out of there.
“What the fuck was that?” Rowan demanded as they sped away. She typed rapid-fire notes to Vanessa to handle all the emergency services overwatch.
“That was a series of spells set in a pattern, triggering the next in a cascade until the energy is powerful enough to set off a mage firebomb. Only a Genetic witch can make it.” Genevieve said all that while she too was typing away on her phone.
“I need to go back to examine the scene. Did a witch have to be there to fire the spell off? Is it a multiple-witch deal like with the black market sorcerers? You said only Genetic witches can do it but is it a one powerful witch deal, or a five witches with a powerful spell deal?”
“There are times you ask questions when I am more impressed by you than anyone else I’ve met in hundreds of years,” Genevieve said.
Pleased, Rowan tried to play it off with a shrug. “Truth is, I don’t know as much about the world of magical practitioners as I should. Working on it, though.”
“That will displease a great many, I’ll say up front,” Genevieve said. “But add I think it’s a necessary wake-up call. Reckless behavior will get us exposed. We need to get ourselves under control. You can be the monster in the closet.”
Rowan snorted.
“I sensed three different magical imprints on the magic. I will need to return after the authorities leave to take another, closer look. It’s very complicated, big magic. A great deal of energy would need to be managed and directed without blowing back against the user. Whoever it was has a great deal of control. A spell with mage fire could have taken out not just the Procella mansion, but the houses to either side and across the street as well. But it didn’t leap any further than the outer walls of the house. These are not merely Genetic witches with a lot of Talent. Once I can be in the spot they were when they launched the magic, then I can gather more identifying information.”
“Okay. So my next question is, if they’re so powerful, will that make things easier? Like you have a list of the biggest powers in the Conclave?” Witches were hyper-private. Instincts to survive honed over a long history full of being hunted, persecuted, and murdered. They were driven to hide. Rowan knew she wasn’t going to have full access to lists or anything of that type. She just needed as much information as possible to figure out a solution.
“I have a general idea. It’s not an exceptionally large pool of candidates, I can say that. But in the hundreds. It’s a start. I’ll have Samaya break it down into something manageable.” Samaya was Genevieve’s David, and Ms. Lorraine’s daughter.
“I don’t think it should get out that Sergio, Antonia, and Alfonso were not at home when the spell went off,” Rowan said. “That ignorance might be very useful. Plus if these witches think they killed everyone but Hugo—the story about him is already out so we can’t change that—they’ll ease back a little. That gives me time to home in on them. They’ll make mistakes trying to cover up. Then we’ll grab them. Hopefully before any more spell bombs go off.”
Genevieve blew out a frustrated breath. “This is the third time in less than a week that witches have nearly killed you. Your Vampire isn’t going to let me come to your house for play dates if this keeps up.”
Rowan snickered, so tired. “Meh. You’re not that unique. People try to kill me regularly. We’re all alive and the evidence we found was saved. Did the attackers know we were there? Was it about us? Was it about the property and destroying whatever could lead back to them? Ugh! I hate not knowing things. It makes me very cranky.”
And when Clive rose for the evening, he’d wake to the news of an explosion. She’d need to finish up with her interview of Antonia. Then she’d tie up as much as she could and be waiting when he opened his eyes.
Rowan tried to ignore the growing throb in her chest and leg. “David, please alert London as to what’s gone down. Darius, can you please take us to the motherhouse? I want to drop off this evidence to get them started on the electronics before we head over to speak to Antonia.”
Back at work, Genevieve followed Rowan into her office and closed the door at her back. “You’re in pain. Let me help.”
Rowan’s shoulder and chest on the side where she’d been shot so many times had healed. Mostly. But it had happened only days before and super blood and a goddess inside her aside, her body was still knitting itself together again. Which was why it had started to ache.
Genevieve’s healing magic was a flavor Brigid seemed to enjoy and then amplify with her own power, all aimed at alleviating Rowan’s pain.
At the end, as her friend stood back, the waves of discomfort had eased, and she could think more clearly. And she didn’t feel as guilty or nervous about how Clive would react.
“I’m going to check in with Konrad regarding Alfonso and Bess. I’ll meet you afterward. Darius and I will watch you interview Antonia from the other room, so don’t start without us.”
Now she didn’t have to push the topic of Genevieve not being in the interview. Antonia showed off for her and Rowan didn’t want her to have that. Plus, that whole family was in on what Hugo had done to Genevieve. Fuck them all.
“Gotcha. I’ve got this stuff and we’re heading out shortly. I’ll see you there.”
Star trotted at Rowan’s side as they made their way through the main floor. Rowan needed to pause here and there, sign things, give her opinion and the like. Naturally everyone wanted to dote on the dog, and Rowan didn’t blame them. Star was looking very fluffy, and she loved being fawned over.
“Is this your way of forcing interaction between me and my employees?” she asked Star quietly.
Star snorted and sat on her rump and staring up at Rowan, clearly in the mood to communicate something.
“Okay, then. I’m only here briefly to pick this up.” She held the file folder with the material she needed for her chat with Antonia. “Are you coming with me to magic headquarters when I question Antonia?”
Nothing.
“I’m not going back to talk to Hugo or his pepaw until later today at the earliest. I’ve found out some juicy stuff today and I want to punch them in the face with it at the right time.”
Still nothing.
“You’ll just show up wherever and whenever you please?”
That got a yip, and Rowan said, “All right, then. I just wanted to make sure you understood you were invited.”
To which Star snorted as if to say of course I am.
David approached and tossed Star another treat.
“I just gave her three snacks,” Rowan said without rancor.
David scratched behind one of Star’s ears for a moment. “And now she’s had four. Busy day ahead, she’ll need the calories. And so will you. Don’t forget that.”
“Yeah, yeah. Genevieve and I are having a meal after I’m finished chatting with Antonia. Then I’ll have to figure out what will happen next depending on how close we are to sunset. I’ll need to go home to deal with Vampire stuff when the sun goes down.”
Understanding shone in his eyes. “Ah. Yes, I imagine so. I have a call with London in just a few minutes to update Susan and the others.”
“I am so fucking glad you handle all this stuff. I trust your ability to inform them on that front.” He was the head of US operations for Hunter Corp. and he knew how to give a report.
Clearly pleased, he continued, “I’ve got some calls and a meeting with Vihan and Vanessa about the data we need extracted from all the things we brought from the Procella mansion and the Gloat Palace. All of which should be over by the time you’re ready for me. I’ll meet you wherever and we’ll hit the next steps of whatever plan. Do we need to pull someone to be your driver until I can attend you?”
Goddess, he was so efficient and pretty much unflappable. Whatever would she do without him?
“Past Rowan was so smart to hire you,” she told him.
Her valet gave her a look. “I had to beg you to stay when I showed up at your door. And then you were ordered to keep me or lose your job.”
“The journey is its own reward, David. We’re here now, aren’t we? And if I was opposed you most assuredly would not be. Obviously.”
He chuckled with a shake of his head. “Obviously.”
She’d panicked at the prospect of a far softer and younger David, and the orders that she train him and let him serve her as her valet. Her life was dangerous. People in her orbit got hurt. Killed.
Susan, her former trainer, and mentor, had forced the decision on her, knowing Rowan would not walk away from being a Hunter. It had been right and good, and he was seriously amazing at his job and in her life.
Rowan worried about him. Their world seemed to flood with violence on a far-too-frequent basis. She made powerful enemies regularly. He wasn’t even ten years younger than she was, but he was in so many ways like her son. With all the complicated pride and fear wrapped tight around the other. But in the end, it meant she had to let him fly and trust his wings and her ability to step in if necessary to protect him.
“Yes, I have a driver,” she said tucking the file under her arm. “I’m on the way out now.”
“Wait a moment,” he told her, leaving and returning within five minutes with a cup of coffee in a travel mug and a still-warm ham and cheese croissant. “Now then. I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Marco is waiting. Let’s bring him some coffee too.”
David made a neat circle and returned with another mug and croissant. “I don’t know what he takes in it, so I included little creamer and sweetener packets. I’ll carry it, as I said. That way you can hold on to the railing with one hand and your cane with the other. Don’t give me that expression. Your leg is still healing, and you just survived an explosion. Again. Why would you endanger yourself unduly over something so silly?” He also snatched the file and tucked it under his arm.
“Babyface David didn’t talk back,” she said as they headed out.
He laughed again. “In the years I’ve spent around you and those in your life, if I hadn’t gotten tough, I’d have been sent packing. One does need to be ready for anything and to stand up for it when one serves Rowan Summerwaite.”
“Didn’t I just give you a raise recently?” she teased.
“You did. And I was awarded a valorous service bonus as well. My investment portfolio is looking pretty good these days.” He moved ahead of her to open the door to the parking lot where Marco waited, lounging against the side of her new vehicle.
Since Darius was with Genevieve and David had work, Marco volunteered, and Rowan had accepted his very generous offer. He was a tank, and she wasn’t a fool. Plus, it helped that she could tell Clive she had a guard with her the whole day while David could get things done at the motherhouse.
There was a coffee and baked goods handoff between David and Marco. And more flirting.
“The backup today is very helpful,” she said as they headed to their destination.
Marco had short, very thick dark hair, soulful and slightly terrifying hazel eyes that sometimes went ice blue at the outer edges. Olive skin. That day he wore black pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. More stylish than some of the other devils without being ridiculous. Probably didn’t need weapons but he had them in a few of those pockets, Rowan had no doubt.
He wasn’t much taller than she was. But he was immense when it came to energy.
Even when he had it tucked away such as when they were out in public, it was impossible not to sense the energy surging all around him. Probably kept most of the tourists walking on by. But given the arresting looks and all that energy, Rowan had zero doubt it also drew a few of the thrill seekers closer.
“This vehicle is very nice. Handles well. We did an excellent job.”
The devils ran a number of side businesses and one of them was installing privacy windows that also had sound dampening and anti-magic bells and whistles. There was a long waitlist she only had to get shot fourteen times to get to the head of.
“Clive and Darius made it happen so quickly. I like it too.”
“For a Vampire, he is tolerable,” Marco said of Clive.
She wanted to laugh but she didn’t know him well enough to predict he wouldn’t be offended.
“He really is,” was what she settled on. “The previous guy though? Total shitbag.”
Marco grunted. “We weren’t expecting you. You rolled into the city, took that asshole’s measure, and when you had enough on him, you’d lopped his head off. That’s when we decided to let you live.”
All that was delivered in such a deadpan manner she wasn’t entirely sure it was in jest. “Well, that’s good,” she managed without sounding terrified. “Please drive past the Tempest.”
She hadn’t been at that intersection where she’d been ambushed since the day it happened. Before that, she’d had several prophetic dreams and knowings, and some of them had led her to that spot. In front of the casino resort owned—in part—by the Procellas. There were many symbols that had been swimming around in her subconscious. She was still working through them all. But a recurring one had been storms at sea. Tempests.
Thanks to the Devil at the wheel, they’d discovered one of the meanings of the name Procella was storm . Far too many coincidences to be anything but connected. The Procellas were at the center of whatever the fuck was happening. She just had to figure out the connections.
“I’m only seeing glimpses of what’s going on. I just need to look at it from different angles until I see it clearly,” she explained even though he hadn’t asked.
“Fair.”
She wasn’t sure what she expected, but there wasn’t any great lightning-bolt moment as they drove past the scene. The glass had been cleaned up. No weird energy remained that she could detect.
“Would you like me to approach this intersection again?” he asked.
“This was useful. I’m good for now.” She’d wanted to see if there was something she’d missed. Some new bit of information but none was there that she could sense. Satisfied for the time being, she looked through the file and her notes, added some new ones given what they’d learned that afternoon and got herself into an interview headspace.