"Are we done with her yet?" Sandford asked, jerking his chin at me.

Nast looked at me, but his gaze was unfocused, distracted. "Just get her out of here. I'll decide what to do with her later. I haven't time for this right now."

The moment Sandford asked his question, I'd started whispering the fog spell. I flicked my hand and a cloud of smoke burst from my fingertips, swirling up like a smoke screen. I raced into the bedroom, slammed the door, and cast a lock spell. Then I ran to the window and tugged on the frame. It was painted shut. I grabbed a chair and threw it through.

"Savannah!" I said, shaking her shoulder.

She gave only a low groan. I grasped her around the waist and pulled her off the bed. Then I looked out the window. We were on the second story. Maybe I could jump, but I could hardly throw Savannah out.

Leah pounded at the door. Sandford shouted orders, calling the others. I thought fast. Did I know any spells for getting Savannah down? No. Either I could find a way to lower her to the ground or I'd have to carry her. The first would take too long. I tried lifting her, but could barely get her off the floor.

The door flew open. Friesen burst through and grabbed Savannah from me. Leah followed at his heels.

"See, guys?" she said. "No rush, like I said. She wasn't going anywhere."

"Take her to the secured room," Nast said.

Leah leaned over me and said in a mock-whisper, "Just a tip. Next time, run for the front door."

Friesen and Sandford laughed.

They put me in a secured basement room, but bound and gagged me, leaving me incapable of spell-casting. Then Shaw shot a dose of sedative into my arm. I was unconscious before they left the room.

I don't know how much time passed, but when I awoke, I found myself staring into Cortez's eyes. I struggled to sit upright, smiling behind my gag. The eyes blinked and I saw within them something so cold I shuddered and skittered backward. Somewhere in the room Gabriel Sandford laughed.

"Scared of her own shadow," Sandford said. "Just like a witch."

The man bending over me blinked and the illusion shattered. They were Cortez's eyes, but older. Older and soulless. He moved back and I saw that the resemblance ended at the eyes. This man was in his early forties, shorter than Cortez, with a severe, patrician look that might have been handsome if he smiled, but with frown lines that suggested he never did.

"You're certain?" he said. "About the relationship?"

"Certain?" Sandford said. "What do you want? A videotape of your brother banging her?"

The man turned a cold stare on Sandford, who straightened and cleared his throat.

"I can't be absolutely certain, as she's not likely to admit to it," Sandford said, his tone formal. "Yet all evidence points to that conclusion. Your brother is searching frantically."

"Frantically?"

"Very."

The other man's brows lifted. "I don't think I've ever seen Lucas frantic about anything. That seals the matter, then. Kill her."

"And put her head in his bed?"

The man's lip curled ever so slightly. He only shook his head, as if Sandford's quip wasn't worthy of an answer. Sandford stiffened, then dropped his gaze.

"Would you prefer I sent a videotape, then?" Sandford said. "Of her death?"

"That should do."

"Degree of suffering?" Sandford asked.

"Average. Enough to hurt him, not enough to convince him it was overtly personal."

"I'll send my best."

"No, you'll send your most expendable. An independent contractor. That will be more cost-effective and will make it more difficult for Lucas to trace it back to you. You'll involve no one else from the Nast organization in this matter, and you'll eliminate the contractor once he's finished the job. As soon as I leave, you'll move her to a second location. From there you'll arrange for the contractor to kidnap and kill her. You'll then include this note with the videotape."

The man handed an envelope to Sandford. When Sandford looked down at it, the man went on, "The note simply makes it clear that her death is his fault, that had she not become involved with him, and his 'crusade,' she'd still be alive."

Sandford smiled. "A little guilt's always good for the conscience."

"Now make sure this cannot be linked to you or the Nast Cabal. As for me, I was never here."

"That goes without saying. We have a deal, then?"

The man nodded.

"Just to, uh, be clear…" Sandford continued. "If I do this, I'm guaranteed a position in the Cortez Cabal, at a twenty-percent salary increase."

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"I just wanted to be sure. I'm taking a big risk here. It would have been easier if I could have persuaded Kristof to get rid of her, but he's still stalling, worried about that witch-brat of his. When he finds out this one disappeared on my watch, I'll probably be out of a job, friend or not. So, of course, I want to be sure-"

The man's gaze hardened. "Did I give you my word?"

"Y-yes, sir. Forgive me."

"I appreciate your having brought this… unique opportunity to my attention, Gabriel. You will be very well compensated for it." The man turned toward me, lips curving in a humorless smile. "I must say, it's almost a shame she has to die. My father's been worrying that Lucas will never provide him with grandsons. It's hard to perpetuate a dynasty when the current heir shows no inclination to father future heirs. He'd be so pleased to hear that Lucas has finally found someone. Then he'd meet her… and probably drop dead of shock." The man shook his head. "A witch? Unbelievable, even for Lucas."

"Not just a witch," Sandford said. "The head of the American Coven."

"Oh, there's a dynastic alliance guaranteed to make the Cortez Cabal the laughingstock of the supernatural world. I'm doing my father such a favor, it's a shame I can't tell him about it."

The man turned to leave. As he walked out, a fireball flew from the ceiling and struck the side of his head. He whirled to Sandford.

"Don't look at me," Sandford said, stepping back. "That wasn't one of our spells."

The man turned to me. I glared at him, pouring every bit of hate and fury into that glare. The man opened his mouth, as if to say something, then shut it and settled for returning my glare before stalking out the door.

"I want her dead by sundown tomorrow. FedEx the tape to Lucas's motel room. Overnight express."

Chapter 46

DESPITE CORTEZ'S BROTHER'S WARNING ABOUT INVOLVING others, Sandford had at least one ally: the half-demon Friesen. Less than thirty minutes after Sandford left me alone again, Friesen walked in. Without a word, he tossed me over his shoulder. He carried me from the room and across the basement to a hatch, much like the one in my house. Then he opened the hatch and pushed me through it.

I tumbled out the hatch door into a weed-choked garden. After being in the near-dark so long, the blast of sunlight made my eyes water. I struggled to wiggle free of my bonds, but they were tied tight. Friesen hefted himself out the hatch, then picked me up, oblivious to my struggles, and slipped across the backyard to the barn. Inside the barn, a panel van was waiting. So was Gabriel Sandford. As Friesen carried me toward the van, Sandford snapped shut his cell phone.

"Done," Sandford said. "He'll be at the cabin in two hours."

Friesen nodded. With me still over his shoulder, he flipped open the van's rear gate. He laid me inside, faceup, then stepped back. His gaze traveled slowly over me, pausing at my chest and bared legs.

"Shut the door and get moving," Sandford said. "Before someone notices she's gone."