Chapter Twenty-Two
Rowan paced a little as she ran through what they knew. “So, current girlfriend used to work for Fiona. Fiona, who is also distantly related to Bess. Let’s figure out if old Terry is really a secretary, or if that was just Bess’s jealousy talking. Via Fiona, Teresa meets Rose. And at some point, Hugo sees Teresa and they start a thing. Goddess, I hope it was consensual. Even if Teresa is a scumbag, no one deserves what he tried to do to you and the other women he stalked.”
Genevieve made one of those French sounds. A grunt, but less vulgar. An acknowledgment she’d heard and also agreed.
Rowan said, “I should have an answer quickly with Rose’s address. She’s got to be either here or in Las Vegas. Her magic was at the house on Holly and at the Procella mansion. She could still live in England with the other Sansburys. But I doubt it. Speaking of doubt, are we sure which Clare and Salazar were the ones doing the spell?”
“Until we talked with Fiona, I would have said Gerard. He’s the public face of their family. But she’s the power. I don’t think she’d have allowed him to do it and mess things up.”
Rowan agreed with Genevieve on that.
“Her magic has hints of blueberry in it,” Darius rumbled. “His was raspberry. The part of the trigger the Clares wielded was hers. Her spell and her power.”
“Well, that’s very helpful,” Genevieve said. “I don’t know which Salazar. I’ve only met them a few times over the years so I’m afraid I’m not much help on that. However, Samaya was running a search to see which one of them flew out of Miami to come help perform the working. That’ll be our answer. And then we can get that to Zara so she can use it when she arrives in Miami.”
Samaya came in just five minutes later. “I’ve got Rose’s address. And it was Javier who flew out to Las Vegas. He hasn’t gone back yet. His return isn’t for three more days. I called their business line asking for him. They said he was on the West Coast for business. I got the hotel information. Konrad is sending a team to apprehend him now.”
Rowan looked up Rose’s address. “She’s in Manhattan Beach. That’s about twenty-five minutes or so from here. Holy fuck, her rent is eighteen thousand dollars a month. Damn. I guess whatever nefarious criming she’s up to pays well. Let’s go say hello.”
When Genevieve got out of the car and the salt from the nearby ocean met her senses, her power seemed to double and redouble. Salt in the desert along veins, salt in the ocean—she’d found out only recently that she was a salt witch, able to use ambient salt in the atmosphere as fuel for her workings.
As salt repelled a lot of magic, it was the sort of hidden weapon that elevated her magical power to levels she’d not even contemplated before.
“For over two hundred grand a year in rent, you think there’d be a doorman,” Rowan grumbled.
“There’s decent security,” Clive said as he took the eight-unit building in. “Three floors, she’s in the middle. North side on the corner. I see external cameras on the front on both corners of the building and over the front entry.”
“A moment,” David said, and they all paused. Three minutes later he said, “Vanessa has taken over the surveillance system here. On our approach she’ll buzz us in and get us access to Rose’s floor.”
“Overwatch in place,” Pru said over Rowan’s earpiece.
“Let’s go ruin Rose’s day.”
Genevieve took the lead because there was simply no way she was allowing Rowan to get attacked by a witch again. Not on her watch. Naturally, Darius took the lead in front of her. The entire evening had been bizarre. Each new revelation worse than the last. And now she was about to come face-to-face with her ex-sister-in-law, who was up to something bad enough they blew up a house and everyone in it to keep it secret.
“There’s no one at home but in that apartment on this floor,” Clive said, and they all stepped to the side so she could ring the bell.
No one responded so Genevieve knocked.
Rowan stepped up. “I got this.” She pressed her finger on the doorbell button, and after noting it was a long tone, she pressed again and kept the pressure as the bell continued to sound on the other side of the closed door.
“I’ve got all night, Rose. Answer the door because you aren’t going back to sleep until you do.”
In the background, Clive snickered, and Genevieve allowed a smile.
Then she began to alternate three kicks, three pounds and continued to ring the bell.
“Normally, I’d climb up onto her balcony and kick my way in but that’s a little out of my physical limits just now. Genevieve, are there any spells on this door?”
Genevieve used her othersight and noted the apartment was far better warded than any of the Procellas’ properties had been.
“Hold.”
The warding used salt as a way to frustrate a witch trying to unravel the protections. But Genevieve’s magic gobbled all that salt working up and it simply amplified her own. Within six minutes, she’d managed to clear away every layer of complex warding until the door was safe.
“Clive? Kick this door in,” Rowan said while looking right into the doorbell camera. “Back up, Rose, this big heavy door is about to demolish whatever’s behind it. Hope it’s not art. Or people.”
Rowan was so delightfully devious.
As Rowan had figured, the sound of bolts sliding free and locks being flipped came, and the big door slowly opened to reveal the same woman from the photographs. Only in person, her eyes weren’t flat and emotionless, they were brimming with malice.
Rowan walked inside, bumping Rose’s shoulder on the way. “Hope we didn’t wake you up.”
“Get out of my house!”
Ugh, a screecher. “Eat shit.” Recorder on, Rowan gave a slow turn to take the front entry in. She didn’t want to go farther until Genevieve had assured them there were no spelltraps because Rowan was sick and tired of getting the crap beat out of her by witches and their sneaky spellcasting.
“She’s with me,” Genevieve said as she closed the door at her back and stepped fully into the foyer. “It’s very rude to keep a guest waiting.”
“It’s nearly one in the morning. I was sleeping. You can’t just harass me like this. There are rules.”
Rowan turned and sneered in Rose’s direction. For someone who’d been sleeping she had a full face of makeup, and her hair was still in place. She’d been awake and trying to duck their visit.
“The greatest irony in the world is how people who break rules right and left without a fucking thought or care as to how that might affect others are always the first to claim rules when they get caught out in their bullshit.” Rowan raised one shoulder. “So, yes let’s have a discussion about rules.”
Genevieve made a sound as she went through a series of hand and wrist movements. Her bracelets clacked and jingled, and her eyes stared at something far off in the distance. Then she stomped and yanked on the air and Rowan felt the warding all around them fall to the ground like rain and then it was gone.
“That was really impressive,” she said to Genevieve, who looked very pleased with herself.
“I made it myself,” Genevieve teased back. “Now, Rosemary, shall we move to your office or a sitting room?”
“No, you may not. You need to leave, or I’ll call the police.”
Rowan and Genevieve froze at those words and then anger came.
“Oh, you will?” Rowan asked. “You’ll call the human police?”
“If you think I won’t, you’re wrong.”
“I think all I needed to know was that you were willing to involve humans in a supernatural matter, which is a violation of the Treaty. I’m Rowan Summerwaite and in a cruel twist of fate for you, it’s my job to be sure it’s not violated.”
Genevieve said, “Exposing us to humans is a violation. You’re going to be taken into custody now. Then we’ll see you in about two hours to have a chat.”
Because main Conclave operations were in Southern California, there’d already been a team waiting to take her in and Samaya showed them to the apartment.
“You can’t do this.”
“You all say that.” Rowan shrugged. “I’m here. Free to come and go. You’re under arrest and I’m about to riffle through all your things. Understand this. You aren’t in charge. I am. See you in a bit, Rose. Can’t wait to get to know you better.”
They searched the two-bedroom apartment from top to bottom. Warding indicated multiple hiding spots rich in all sorts of things. Phones. Data cards and storage. In the last was jewelry and watches.
On the way back, they talked through what they had.
Rowan said, “On the surface, there are many things about this situation that aren’t unusual. Lots of warding? She’s a single woman living alone. Same with the secure building. Rich people love to have hidey-holes to keep their treasures near to look at and also not get stolen from the top of the dresser. A hundred grand seems like an excessive amount of cash to have on hand, but I bet it isn’t to a certain level of businessperson.” At her side, Clive made a sound that said they probably had that much cash in a safe at her house and she chose to pretend not to hear it. “Eight phones though? All hidden. All used regularly. There is a system with the calls. You can see that with each one. Steps in a process of some type.”
“Some of them are to the various parties in this little conspiracy,” Genevieve said. “I recognize Sergio’s number, as well as one of those belonging to the Clares. We know they do business together. But this seems an unusual process.”
“It does. Maybe it’s a legit business thing and she keeps it all separate for tax purposes or whatever. Why hide the phones though? Corporate espionage? She’s worried someone will steal something proprietary?” Rowan didn’t think so. But it was always useful to figure out what sort of excuses someone might give in advance to be prepared to refute or clarify.
“Go back to the house whenever you need to,” she told Clive quietly once they arrived.
“Sun won’t be up for three and a half hours. I’ll stay until the last moment and hope to drive home with you. If not, you’ll have Darius, Genevieve, and David with you on the ride back since they’re all staying with us. I know they’ll be safe with you.”
He deliberately chose to say it that way. Instead of them protecting her, which was far more likely.
Satisfied he’d take care of himself, they went inside.
“You’re going to regret this,” Rosemary said as she and Genevieve entered the room a few hours later.
“One of us will, certainly,” Genevieve said as they sat.
“You didn’t have a warrant. You can’t just arrest me like this. I need a lawyer.”
“Dorothy Decker.”
Genevieve lobbed the name of the witch they’d found, brutalized. The witch whose home they’d found a bit of Rosemary’s magic in.
Rose froze for a moment and then shook it off.
“Should I know that name?”
Rowan took a leap. “You should. It was on several of the lists kept on more than one of those data cards you had hidden.”
They hadn’t had a chance to open those before they arrived. David and Samaya and one of the tech people from the Conclave were on that just a few doors down and Rowan was fairly sure she’d just told the truth.
“Surely you saw there were many lists with many names. How could I possibly remember them all? If you told me what this was about, I might have the context to remember.”
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.”