Alec tensed, unsure if the emotion pounding through him was protectiveness or defensiveness. «Yes. That’s Carmen.»
«Damn.» Nick blew out a breath and flashed him a sympathetic look. «Puts you in an even tougher spot.»
Stress made him pissy. «You mean the part where I’m probably going to have to kill my new girlfriend’s uncle?»
It didn’t intimidate her. «Yeah, that part. It’d be hell on a relationship that wasn’t new, but this… This really sucks.»
His life in a nutshell. «Even worse, it’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight’s problem is that the only safe place for supernaturals to get medical treatment just blew up, and I have no idea if we’ve got enough people to bury the weird details. Like the pool of Franklin’s blood we left behind, or who might have witnessed people dragging him out of the collapsed building.»
«Jackson and I are already on it. You’re not the only one who’s been a busy boy tonight.»
«Two-thirds of the shifters and spell casters in this town make their way through that bar of yours on any given weekend. You spreading the word?»
«In a manner of speaking.»
«As long as it gets done.» One more thing to cross off his mental list. «Does your father know about this yet?»
She bared her teeth in a fierce grin. «Cesar Mendoza can sidestep you all he wants because you’re not the boss of him. Incidentally, my father is.»
John Peyton would come down on Mendoza like a brick wall. Censure would be swift, and punishment would follow. Its severity would depend on how outraged the rest of the Conclave was, and it would be a slow process. It would take time, because if the Conclave loved one thing, it was listening to themselves talk.
Alec didn’t have to wonder where it would end. They’d bicker. They’d fight. John would push for civilization. Some would side with him for favor. Some would oppose him out of pique. The Conclave would fail to find a consensus or present a united front, and whatever sentence they handed down wouldn’t be enough.
The Conclave wouldn’t solve the problem. But they’d keep Cesar busy. They’d keep themselves busy.
He’d use every god damn minute of that time to come up with a way to end this bullshit once and for all.
Nick watched him, her eyes wide and nervous. «You look scary.» Instead of turning it into a joke, she made the observation solemnly. «Alec, don’t do anything stupid, okay?»
For all her dominant tendencies, Nick wouldn’t understand. Her battle had been for a quiet life, the right to live outside her father’s legacy and her society’s rules. She had her people — her tiny little pack — all those faces in the cheerful family photos that lined the walls of Luciano’s ranch. Keeping them safe was her job, and she’d fight for it. She’d kill for it, if she had to.
Alec envied her that clarity. Not even thirty and she’d found her life’s purpose. He was on the wrong side of forty and only starting to realize he’d been hiding from his.
He looked away from Nick, toward the opposite end of the warehouse. The jumble of two-dozen voices made it impossible to sort out one from another, but his gaze found Carmen like she was magnetic north.
The helpless terror he’d felt in her earlier was gone — or so well hidden no one would believe it was there. She’d taken control of the makeshift clinic with the unwavering steel of any good drill sergeant, and people went running in whatever direction she pointed them. Life could knock the woman down as many times as it wanted, and she’d still get up and save the world.
God help him, he wanted to save it with her. For her.
«Alec.» Nick sighed. «Jesus, I hope Cesar Mendoza knows what he’s opened up.»
«Don’t think he could, Peyton.» Alec glanced back at her and smiled. «Because I’m going to do the stupidest thing there is. I’m going to fix our world.»
Carmen dragged her hair back into a sloppy ponytail. «Okay, Miguel. Clark needs help moving equipment out of the storage area and into the finished rooms on this end of the warehouse.»
He hopped off the desk immediately, moving with a grace he hadn’t always possessed. «Got it.»
She turned to Kat, who’d already pulled a sleek silver laptop out of her bag. «I hope you brought your own Wi-Fi, because there are a few things we need to find, and quick. They’re not in the inventory Franklin already stocked, but we need them in the next day or so.»
«I brought everything.» A boxy white MacBook and two tiny netbooks joined the first laptop on the table. «I figured you might need more than one computer online for the next few days, until I can set up something a little more permanent. I’ve got a mobile hotspot. The range isn’t great, but I might be able to boost it enough so that you can get a signal from anywhere in the building.»
«Thanks, Kat.»
Tara waved her cell phone at Carmen. «You said you called Sokolov up in Shreveport, right?»
«That’s right. She’ll be down first thing in the morning.»
«I know a guy who works in anesthesia at Our Lady of the Lake.»
«In Baton Rouge?»
«Yeah. He knows plenty of spells that could come in handy, including one that can slow Franklin’s shifter healing long enough for Dr. Sokolov to operate.»
The only member missing from their specialized OR team. Alec’s partner Jackson had offered to try if they couldn’t find anyone else, but the last thing any of them wanted to do was take chances with Franklin’s well-being. «Offer him whatever he wants if he can be here tomorrow.»
Tara grinned, already dialing. «I’ll talk him into it.»
Carmen slid her hand into her pocket, closing her fingers around the borrowed cell phone there. Kat had handed it over readily, without question, and it was time for Carmen to use it.
The offices that occupied one end of the warehouse had been modified and outfitted as exam rooms or meeting spaces. When she found one with a large desk and a single folding chair, she sat down to dial the number Franklin had given her.
It rang five times before the call connected. Carmen heard rustling, then the sound of a door clicking shut before a quiet, tense voice answered. «Hello?»
«Is this Sera Sinclaire?»
The sound of water filled the background. A shower, maybe, or a sink running. «Kat? Is that you?»
«Kat lent me her phone. My name is Carmen Mendoza. I’m calling because your father’s been hurt.»
Sera’s breath caught. Hard on the heels of the gasp came a protest. «He’s not — if you know Kat, you know…what he is?»
«I know.» Carmen swallowed hard. «I work with Franklin at his clinic.»
«Oh.» Her voice sounded young and afraid. «Is it — how bad is it? Is he going to be okay?»
«He’s all right. Stable. He needs surgery, probably tomorrow.» She hesitated. «Your father told me you live in Arkansas. Can we send someone to pick you up, or—?»
«No!» Something clattered in the background, then paper crinkled. «I’ve got a pen. Give me the address, and I’ll come.»
Carmen rattled off the address she’d already memorized. «If you need help finding it, just call Kat’s phone and someone will answer. I think most of us are going to be here all night.»
«Okay. How did — was it Kat? Did she track me down?»
Lying might have been easier, but Carmen refused to do it. «Your father gave me your number and asked me to call.»
Sera let out a soft breath. «Are you sure he wants to see me?»
A heartbreaking question, and so simple to answer. «I don’t think there’s anything he wants more.»
«Okay.» Relief, for a moment, but tension wreathed the words that followed. «I just need to talk to my husband. I’ll be there by tomorrow morning.»