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The knock came again.

 . . . maybe not,I thought. I looked toward Sarah. Okay. Here’s what we need to do. You’re going to say I have to jump out the window, aren’t you?she asked miserably.

No, of course not.Not that I didn’t want to. Going out the window would have solved all our problems. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the equipment to get Sarah down safely, and she didn’t have the training to do it without help. I took a breath and thought, as reassuringly as I could, We just need to be quiet, okay? She’ll go away.

Verity, I don’t like this.Sarah’s lower lip quivered, her eyes wide and frightened.

I know.I drew a pistol from inside my hoodie, gesturing for Sarah to get out of sight. She started toward the coat closet, presumably to hide herself.

There was a click as the latch released, and the hotel room door swung open. I managed to jump behind the half-wall that separated the living and dining rooms, getting myself out of sight before I could be seen. Sarah gasped.

“C-can I help you?” she asked, in a surprisingly normal tone of voice.

“Your door seems to have been left unlocked,” said Margaret Healy. “Can I come in?”

Oh. Shit.

Thirteen

“Blood is thicker than water, but family isn’t just about blood. Family is about faith, and loyalty, and who you love. If you don’t have those things, I don’t care what the blood says. You’re not family.”

—Alice Healy

A suite at the Port Hope Hotel, about to potentially get into a firefight

“UH, SURE,” said Sarah. I heard her step back to let Margaret into her suite. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“It’s an awfully cloudy night for looking at stars, don’t you think?” The question was mild, just a comment on the weather.

There was nothing mild about the chill that it sent racing down my spine, or Sarah’s sudden, terrified cry of, Verity, I think this is the woman from the roof.

Sometimes Sarah’s inability to recognize people by visual cues can be a real problem. I know,I thought back, as soothingly as I could. Try to convince her that you’re harmless. We’re going to get you out of here. It’ll be okay.

“The sky cleared for a little bit,” said Sarah. “That’s why I went up with Valerie to see the Pleiades.”

“It’s odd that you can see them at all, with all the ambient light from the city,” said Margaret. “I was ever so excited, until I saw that the clouds had come back. Quite fast, too. I’ve never seen a cloud cover that thick develop so quickly.”

Verity, why is she asking all these questions? She should have believed us. Why can’t Isee her?

I don’t know,I thought back. See if you can make her leave. We need to get you out of here.

“I guess the weather does what the weather wants to do,” said Sarah weakly.

“I suppose that’s true.” I heard Margaret take another step. “Is Valerie still here? I wanted to see if she had any other suggestions for places where I might go to do a little stargazing.”

“No, she had to leave,” said Sarah. “I’ll tell her that you were sorry to have missed her.”

“Left? Really? That’s amazing, since I had a splendid view of the front of the hotel while I was on the roof, and I didn’t see her going out.”

“It must have been while you were going down the stairs.”

“That’s still quite impressive timing. I’ll have to ask my colleague who was sitting in the lobby this whole time whether he saw which way she went. I’d love to see her again.” I didn’t need to be able to see Margaret’s face to know what it looked like. Her tone was one I’d heard before, from my sister, my mother, my grandmother. It would be accompanied by an almost feral smile, one that implied the speaker would think nothing of ripping your throat out with her teeth. A dangerous expression for a dangerous girl.

“That’s probably a good idea,” said Sarah, in a small voice.

“Unless you’dlike to tell me where she went.”

Verity!

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay where I was. Is she actually threatening you? Or is she just asking pointy questions and waiting to see whether you crack? Do you see any weapons?

Not yet—it’s just questions—but I still can’t read her.

Shit. The Covenant has wards against sorcery, witchcraft, and the various psionic powers. Telepathy isn’t common, but empathy is, and a ward against one will go a long way toward blocking the others. Sarah wasn’t going to get any readings off Margaret, and Margaret wasn’t going to be as affected by Sarah’s particular brand of mind-fuck as she should have been.

Try and make her leave,I said, keeping my mental voice as reassuring as I could. I didn’t know how well it was working. Sarah’s the telepath, not me; there was no telling how much interference she was going to pick up from my own panic. The staff will smuggle us out of here if you can make her leave.

“I don’t know where Valerie went,” said Sarah. Her voice was barely shaking. I have never been so proud of her. “Why don’t you go ask your friend? He can probably tell you which way she turned when she left the hotel.”

“Doesn’t she live around here?”

“No. New Jersey. She was just visiting me for the day.”

“Ah. Well, if you see her, can you let her know that I—”

The sound of the theme from Dance or Diesuddenly blared from my front pocket. I fumbled for my phone, hitting the “mute” button, but it was already way too late.

“What was that?” asked Margaret, all pretense of friendly curiosity gone. She was a hunter, and she had just received confirmation that her prey was nearby.

“My phone,” said Sarah, hopelessly.

“If that was your phone, what’s that on the couch? You have two cell phones? That seems a bit excessive, don’t you think?” I heard Margaret turn and start to walk. “You sure your friend left? Seems a little odd that you’d hide her from m—”

There was a heavy smacking noise, followed by the thump of Margaret collapsing to the floor. I poked my head around the wall. Sarah was standing with her legs braced wide, a decorative vase in her hands, panting in what I recognized as terror. Margaret was sprawled facedown on the carpet in front of her. The fall had hiked both her coat and blazer up in the back, revealing the gun she had tucked between her shirt and pants.

“Get the gun,” I said, moving to grab Sarah’s bags. “Do you have any duct tape?”

“Why would I have duct tape?” Sarah asked. She dropped the vase. It landed without breaking, rolling to bump to a stop against the base of the couch. “Is she dead? Did I kill her?”

“No, but she’s going to have one hell of a headache.” I trotted over and shoved Sarah’s bags into her hands before dropping to my knees next to Margaret, producing a roll of electrical tape from my own bag. “Duct tape would have been better, but this will hold her for a while. You have four minutes to grab anything else you want from this place. We will notbe coming back here. Understand?”

“I understand,” whispered Sarah, and ran for the dining room table.