“Or what,” Doc answered. “Preacher doesn’t have the baby anymore.”
“How do you know?”
Fi crossed her arms. Her jaw tensed and for a split second, she flickered transparent. To Creek, it looked like her throat was torn out, but the image disappeared as quickly as it had come. He knew Mal had killed her. Maybe that was how he’d done it. Poor kid.
Doc slung his big arm over Fi’s shoulders. “Because under a spell controlled by the witch’s daughter, I took the baby from Preacher and delivered it to her. But don’t bother thinking you’re going to rescue the kid. There was a fight and Evie got killed by her own magic. The Castus got loose and grabbed the baby. Before it could finish me off, it disappeared.”
“Castus?” Havoc asked.
“Remember the thing that attacked me right after I found Julia’s body?” Creek nodded. “It’s that.”
Havoc swore under his breath.
“You can say that again,” Damian added. “If the witches had it contained in the first place, they must be pretty knowledgeable. It takes strong blood magic to call one of the ancient ones. More blood to hold it.”
It was Doc’s turn to swear. “They had Mal’s blood. I can’t imagine blood more powerful than his.” He pulled Fi a little closer. “This city’s going to get seriously weird come midnight, and we have no idea if Mal and Chrysabelle will be back before then. Best thing we can do now is prepare for tonight.”
“Good idea.” Creek turned to Havoc. “You’ve got to convince the mayor that all Halloween-related activities need to be canceled citywide. No parade, no trick-or-treating, no parties, nothing. I don’t care if she has to make up a bomb threat. She’s got to keep people in their homes.”
Havoc shook his head. “That’s a tall order. I’ll do what I can. What do you want me to tell her about her grandchild?”
“Tell her the truth. The child is gone, beyond our reach. There’s no point in keeping anything from her.” Creek pointed to Doc. “You feel secure here?”
“Not after the hit we took last night, but it’s better than Mal’s.”
Creek would find out more about that later. “What about Seven?”
Doc’s eyes narrowed. “What about it?”
“It’s probably the most secure place you could be considering what could go down tonight.”
“Not a chance in hell I’m going there or that Dominic’s going to let us in.”
Damian nodded. “Fi and I went to see him earlier and he refused us. I say we stay here. We’re armed and we’re formidable enough in our own right. As long as we stay inside, we’re fine.”
“You’re sure?”
Doc glanced at the others around him. “Positive.”
“All right, then.”
“What about you?” Fi asked.
Creek planted his feet. “I’m staying here with you. If Tatiana’s still in the city, you can believe she’s going to take advantage of tonight.” Creek glanced at the front door. “She’ll be back.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Amery parked them on a side street in the business district. Mal waited while Chrysabelle scanned the information Loudreux had given her one more time. Mortalis sat in the seat in front of Mal, staring straight ahead. Since they’d left Loudreux’s, the fae had practically shimmered with anger but had yet to say a word. Sooner or later, it would come out and when it did, Mal knew from experience it wasn’t going to be pretty. Maybe he’ll kill you.
“I don’t know how I’m going to do this.” Chrysabelle folded the paper and tucked it back inside the envelope. Frustration tensed her pretty face. “What reason would this guardian have for stepping aside? He’s apparently living a pretty high life. I can’t offer him anything better. And I’m not killing him. I’m not a murderer.” Her hands balled into fists, the signum glinting. “I just want my ring back.”
“I’m sorry,” Mortalis muttered. “If I had any idea that Hugo was going to do this—”
“Enough, Mortalis,” Chrysabelle interrupted him. “What’s done is done. Loudreux’s machinations are solely his responsibility.”
Mal rested his hand over hers. “I need to speak to you alone.”
“You have an idea?”
He flicked his gaze to the front seats, then back to her. “Alone.”
“All right. Let’s take a walk down this alley.” She looked at Mortalis. “We’ll be back shortly.”
He grunted a reply.
Mal got out, held the door for her, then shut it behind her. She winced as she got out, the tightening of her body so subtle that if he had blinked, he would have missed it. She was hurting, but if she wasn’t going to acknowledge it, neither was he. They walked to the middle of the alley in silence. She checked both sides, then turned to him, her gaze dancing across his face as though she’d never seen him before.
“What?”
She smiled. “It’s strange to see you with sun on your face. Good strange.”
“Likewise.” He reached up and ran his fingers over a sleek blond strand hanging past her cheek. Artificial light lit her signum up, but daylight gave her an almost otherworldly glow. He understood why people looked at her. It was hard not to stare with a gaping mouth and a dumbstruck tongue. Her eyes really did match the sky’s ethereal blue. He swallowed and opened his fingers, letting the hair loose. “You shine like… the sun itself.” Damn, he was an idiot with words around her. No, just an idiot.