I drank Paige’s sleeping tea while we talked about the case. This was the part I’d miss if I moved out, the late nights staying up, sometimes watching movies or playing games, but mostly just talking. After ten years of this, my own apartment would seem very quiet. I guess that’s part of growing up.

When I woke, I had a message from Sean. Please call ASAP. The call history showed he’d phoned a few times overnight. I called from bed.

“Hey, how’s Hong Kong?” I said when he answered.

“It was fine when I left it. I’ve been recalled to L.A. Seems we’ve had an asset disappear.”

I sat up, pillows tumbling to the floor. “Adele’s baby?”

“Yes.” He paused. “I know you asked about him once—”

“And you couldn’t talk about it. I understand. So the Nasts did have him. Or had him. He’s been taken, I presume.”

“Yes.”

“How’d they manage that? Your secured floor has got to be at least as good as the Cortezes’.”

“Larsen is two years old, Savannah. We may commit some serious ethical oversights, but we don’t confine toddlers to maximum security. He was being raised by the family of our clairvoyant. Under heavy security, of course, but it’s hardly solitary confinement.”

“What happened?”

“At this point, we only know that he’s gone. His security detail didn’t do their regular nightly check-in, and when we sent a car to the house, no one was there.”

“The group grabbed him.”

“That would be the obvious answer. However, Granddad and Uncle Josef are convinced it was Benicio. They think he’s blown this threat out of proportion with the express intent of kidnapping Larsen.”

“Warn Thomas that Larsen is in danger, then take him and blame a scapegoat. Which works really well when I’m the only person saying this group wanted the kid.”

“Right.”

“And you think?”

“I trust you. I don’t trust Benicio. So either this group has targeted Larsen and taken him, or they’ve targeted Benicio, and when you told Benicio, he used the excuse to take him.”

If there’s one thing Lucas taught me about his father, it’s that you never, ever say, “Benicio wouldn’t do that,” because as soon as you do, he’ll prove you wrong, and you’ll be left looking like a fool.

Sean continued, “So we’ve got a kidnapping and a potentially ugly diplomatic situation. Which means we need Lucas here. Whether his dad took Larsen or not, this is going to cause exactly the kind of chaos a rebel group will take full advantage of.”

“Once they hear Benicio is a suspect, they’ll use it. I’ll tell Lucas.”

“Can you come, too? You know this threat better than anyone, it seems.”

“Right. And the Nast Cabal will be so happy to listen to me.”

“Just come, Savannah. Please.”

“All right.”

A pause, then, “Are you okay? I know it’s early and I probably woke you, but you seem . . . not yourself.”

“I lost my spells.” The words came out before I could stop them.

“You lost your . . . ?”

“Magic. Spellcasting mojo. It’s gone. Something’s happened and—” I sucked in air. “Not important at the moment.”

“It is to you. I’m sorry.”

As he said that, I realized he was the first one who had. Everyone else rushed in with promises that we’d get it fixed or that it didn’t matter, which was nice, but I needed to hear this.

“Even more reason for you to come then,” Sean said. “We’ll solve a mystery and squelch a Cabal war and a rebellion. Hopefully by dinner.”

I smiled. “It’s a plan.”

twenty-five

In light of Sean’s call, our day started early, with a breakfast meeting at headquarters. Caterers served crepes and fruit plates and fresh-squeezed orange juice. When you’re Benicio Cortez, you can call up the best eatery in town and say, “I’d like breakfast for twelve and I’d like it in an hour.”

“I didn’t take the boy,” Benicio said as we settled in. “Though I know no one expects me to claim otherwise.”

The show of support was overwhelming. It sounded a lot like silence, broken only by the clink of spoons in coffee cups.

“I suspect you didn’t take him,” Lucas said finally. “There would be little to gain from kidnapping a child who isn’t even old enough to have demonstrated clairvoyance. But the matter does need to be settled and it’s best settled by a trip to Los Angeles. I can deal with the political fallout while Savannah and Adam investigate.”

Adam’s head shot up, and he blinked like he’d barely been listening. “Invest—? Oh, right. Um, sure. Unless you want me to stay here for research. You could send a guard with Savannah.”

Adam turning down the chance for an adventure? One that would get him out of the research chair? Unheard of.

“He should stay,” I said. “Whatever. It doesn’t really . . .” I got to my feet. “It doesn’t matter. You guys decide. Just call me when it’s time to go.”

I made it as far as the door before I regretted it. If I wanted to be mature, running out of a room really wasn’t the way to do it. But the alternative was to stay and put on a game face when it was obvious I was hurt. No, better to shore up my dignity and leave before I made things any more awkward.

I kept going, calm and purposeful . . . until I made it to the hall and heard the patter of Paige’s pumps behind me, and ducked around the first corner, escaping before she could catch up.

I tried to make up for the maturity lapse by not running off and sulking. I called Sean and told him we were coming, then gathered the files I’d been reading and found a place to continue going through them until Benicio called to say the car was ready to take us to the airport. Paige texted right after, with the same message, only asking me to meet her in Lucas’s office and we’d walk down together. I replied saying I had to grab some stuff and I’d meet Lucas at the car.

I was in the parking garage, when footsteps echoed around me.

“Shouldn’t you have an escort?”

I turned as Adam walked over. I nodded toward the idling SUV, where Troy stood at the driver’s door, waiting.