White Hot

“Me.”

Her gaze shifted to Rogan. “Enjoy your pitiful triumph. It won’t last.”

I reached out and looked into her mind. Crap.

“She’s been hexed,” I said. “She has what we need, but it will take a lot of time to pull it out.”

“How much time?” Rogan asked.

“Days.” It would take me that long to regenerate enough magic to take her hex apart.

“No,” Cornelius said in his eerie voice, his word suffused with emotion. “She murdered my wife.”

Conflict churned in Rogan’s eyes. We needed Olivia. We needed her badly.

The muscles on his jaw locked.

He’d promised.

Rogan opened his mouth. “I stand by my word. She is yours.”

“Let her go,” Cornelius told me.

I released her. Another moment and I would’ve lost my hold.

Cornelius looked at Olivia, his face pale. “You took Nari’s life away from her. You took my wife away from me. You took the mother from my child.”

Olivia sneered at him. “What will you do, you pathetic little man? You’re not even a Prime. Will you summon a litter of puppies to lick me to death? Go on. Show me.”

“When my grandfather came to this country,” Cornelius said, “he took a new name, one that would be familiar to his new countrymen.”

Olivia crossed her arms on her chest.

“Our real last name isn’t Harrison. It’s Hamelin.”

A low sound like the noise of a waterfall came from behind us, insistent and oddly disturbing.

“We’re not named for the place where we were born. We’re named for the place where years before Osiris serum was discovered our ancestor became infamous for his magic.”

Cornelius opened his mouth and sang a long wordless note. A black wave burst into the room. It shifted and moved, charging forward, not uniform, but made of thousands of tiny bodies.

Olivia Charles screamed, terror raw in her voice.

Cornelius’ voice rose, commanding and beautiful. It reached right into your chest, took your heart into a cold fist, and held it still. The wave surged between us and swarmed Olivia, burying her body. She shrieked and flailed, but the rats kept coming, thousands and thousands of them, until she became a swirling mound of fur. There was nothing I could do but stand there and listen to her being eaten alive while the Pied Piper of Houston sang like an angel, mourning the love of his life.

I sat in my office and watched the correspondents on Eyewitness News lose all cool over a still shot of Olivia Charles’ skeletal remains. How they had gotten it, I had no idea. Houston PD had that scene wrapped up tighter than a straitjacket. By the time we exited the building, my sisters were gone and the majority of the fortress guards with them. SWAT found them later, wandering through the brush, weeping, and telling stories of the girl and a thing that stole her. Nobody could adequately describe the thing, only that it was huge and monstrous, which was just as well. We’d dodged the bullet.

Lenora demanded Rogan’s and Cornelius’ presence for a debriefing and mounds of paperwork. I wasn’t invited, for which I was grateful. I went home, hugged my sisters, ordered pizza, and fell asleep on the couch before it arrived. It was afternoon now—I had slept straight through the morning and would’ve slept longer, but Grandma Frida got worried and put ice on my face to make sure I “wasn’t in a coma.” It was time to settle with my client, who was due to walk through my door at any minute. He’d spent the entire day today moving out.

I hadn’t heard from Rogan. No calls, no messages, nothing. It was less than twenty-four hours without contact, but I had the most unsettling sense of déjà vu. He couldn’t disappear on me again.

As if on cue, Cornelius walked through the door separating the office from the rest of the house and knocked on the glass wall of my office.

I clicked off the broadcast on my laptop. “Please, come in.”

He came in and sat in the chair.

“How do you feel?” I asked him.

He thought about it. “Relieved. The anger is gone. All I have left is grief. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad that you’re relieved.”

“If I can ask, why the change of heart?” Cornelius said. “You were adamant before that you didn’t want to contribute to the killer’s death.”

“David Howling sent a death threat to Matilda.”

Cornelius sat up straighter. “Why was I not told?”

“Because it was designed to throw you off balance. I was concerned about your mental state. You weren’t sleeping and you kept carrying mysterious sacks into odd places.”

“They were grain sacks,” Cornelius said. “Rats need a lot of food to grow from a mischief to a swarm.”

“Mischief?”

“That’s the proper term for a group of rats. A pack of dogs, a murder of crows, a mischief of rats. They are misunderstood creatures. In reality, they are intelligent colony animals. Studies have proven that rats will feed caged companions before eating, themselves, for example. But people have an instinctual fear of them, so I kept the exact method of my revenge to myself. And no, I wasn’t unhinged.”

“It was my call and I made it.”

He nodded. “Please continue.”

“When Howling confronted Rogan and me in the circle, he assured me that he didn’t enjoy child murder and that he would tie that loose end with minimal pain.”

Cornelius locked his jaw. “Did he?”

“I realized that as long as he and Olivia Charles lived, your daughter wouldn’t be safe. I also realized that Olivia would never permit herself to be captured and interrogated. I don’t know why, but their devotion to this new Caesar is absolute. When Howling spoke about his new vision, his face lit up. They truly believe they are patriots. Patriots don’t turn state’s evidence. They become martyrs. I could wash my hands of it and let you and Rogan do the heavy lifting or I could come and help. I chose to help and I’ll live with my decision.”

I opened the file and handed him the bill. “This is your final bill.”

He looked at it for a moment. “That’s it?”

“Yes. You will see the final breakdown of hours and expenses below. The dress charge has an explanation. Due to the circumstances beyond my control, I was unable to return the dress in a timely manner, so I was charged an additional fee of two thousand dollars. Because these circumstances happened as the direct result of the investigation, the surcharge was passed onto you. With your $50,000 deductible applied, your final bill comes to $7,245 even.”

Cornelius pulled out his checkbook and wrote a check to me. Usually I didn’t deal with checks, but I had no doubt that his would be good.

“Thank you.”

I signed the receipt and passed it to him. He looked at it. “Somehow it just doesn’t seem like enough.”

“You could pay more, if you want, but I suspect you may need that money. What will you do now?” I didn’t add “since your wife is dead.” Nari had been their primary breadwinner.

“I’ll find a job,” he said. “I was hoping to ask you for one.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I’ve seen what you do. I believe I would be an asset.”

I blinked. Nobody outside my family had ever asked me for a job before. If I could get him, I’d dance with joy. Between the birds, the cats, and the ferrets, we could expand our surveillance while minimizing the risk. We’d take in twice as much money.

If. That was a huge if.

“I would love if you worked for us.”

“I sense a but,” he said.

“You’re a member of a House and your magic is incredible. I can’t possibly pay you your worth.”

“How do you normally handle your payroll?” he asked.

“It depends on the case. Bernard is paid by the hour. He doesn’t typically see a case through from the beginning to the end. Usually his services are required on an as-needed basis. Sometimes my sisters take individual cases and earn commission upon successful resolution. The firm takes thirty percent of the fee, the contractor takes seventy. We provide dental and medical.”