Mae had spent years trying to find her, her closest lead being a servant of the Morrigan named Emil—a servant Mae had killed with the amber dagger. Emil had promised Mae a lead to the girl in Arcadia, as part of his attempts to get Mae to join their cult and fulfill the pact her mother had made at Mae’s conception. Mae had refused and thought she’d lost her chance at finding her niece forever. And yet, here, right in front of her was the girl, looking up with hazel eyes that showed glints of green in the sunlight. She grinned, but when Mae reached for her, the wind stirred again, picking up the red velvet. It was no longer a cloak but a flag, rippling in the air, blocking Mae from her niece. Angrily, she tried to catch hold of the waving fabric, but when she finally did and jerked it aside, the girl was gone.
So was the sun. So was everything.
Mae was sitting in the March living room, dressed, with no blood on her hands. There wasn’t even a cut. Glancing around, she saw the amber dagger lying on the floor but had no memory of dropping it. In fact, as her eyes passed over a clock, she was startled to realize she was apparently missing a few memories. To Mae’s perceptions, barely five minutes had passed, but the time—and other signs—said nearly three hours had gone by. The faint light of sunrise was seeping through the windows, and the coffee maker in the kitchen had turned itself on. Weirdest of all, she felt exhausted, as though she’d been through some great physical activity—not a sensation she felt often these days.
Chills ran through her, and she fixed her gaze back on the knife. I have to get rid of it. But how? And where? A sound from the other end of the house startled her out of her fear. Someone was stirring, probably Cynthia. Without further thought, only knowing that she had to get the knife away from her and not have to explain how she’d just spaced out on guard duty, Mae grabbed the blade and dropped it inside an ornamental basket on a high shelf near the media screen. Several other artistic oddities were on the shelf, and in all the time she’d spent here, Mae had never seen anyone disturb them. She would come back for the knife later and find a proper way to dispose of it—if such a thing even existed.
“Quiet night?”
Mae spun around as a yawning Cynthia entered the kitchen and checked the coffee maker. Forcing calm, Mae strolled into the kitchen and put on a smile.
“Sure was. Not that I’d expect different, if word of your deadly coatrack’s gotten around.”
Cynthia scowled as she poured two cups. “That kid’s lucky he didn’t break it.”
Mae accepted the offered coffee and tried to ignore the fact that she’d just lied. Technically, she didn’t know if had been a quiet night or not. Anything could’ve happened in those three hours. There could’ve been another attack, one she would’ve just let happen while hallucinating with a cursed knife. Fortunately, Cynthia was too preoccupied with breakfast plans to notice Mae’s unease. Or maybe Mae was just that good at covering it up.
The rest of the household began to wake up shortly after that—aside from Justin. Tessa and Quentin got ready for school as Cynthia cooked, and Mae checked her messages, discovering she’d received a few responses to her security ad. A couple looked promising, and she set up interviews for that afternoon. She’d just finished responding to the last applicant when Val and Dag showed up at the door, more excited than she’d seen them in a while. Capital duty really was starting to wear on them.
“Anything exciting happen overnight?” asked Dag. Like Cynthia, he assumed the answer was a given, and it bothered Mae that the night hadn’t been nearly as tame as she would’ve liked.
“Not around here,” she said easily, showing them into the kitchen. Cynthia had resigned herself to having household security as a necessary evil and considered feeding them part of her responsibility, especially upon learning they were doing it for free. Val and Dag— driven by the same supercharged metabolism that Mae was—had no problem with this. They set into their food with gusto, much to the delight of a wide-eyed Quentin. He was so used to Mae now that she was old-hat, but having “real” praetorians in the house was as new and exciting as movie heroes come to life. He peppered them with questions while Tessa watched in wary silence.
A little of the previous night’s weirdness faded as breakfast wore down. Val and Dag always had a calming effect on Mae. She was closer to them than her blood family and trusted them implicitly . . . almost. As the Marches dispersed for the day, a pang of guilt shot through Mae that her friends were blindly taking on this bodyguard job as a friendly favor, little knowing the truth of what they were facing. Would they be strong enough to take on what was to come? The answer, Mae decided, hadn’t changed from what she’d told Justin last night: they would have to be.
Justin himself didn’t surface, which wasn’t surprising after his late night. Mae, who was escorting Tessa and then going on to the Internal Security building, had simply hoped he’d come along with her. For all she knew, he wouldn’t get out of bed until that evening, so she and the others finally set off for the day’s tasks, with Val and Dag escorting Cynthia and Quentin respectively.
“How long are we going to be doing this?” Tessa asked Mae, as they rode the subway into the city. “The bodyguards?”
Excellent question, Mae thought. “Until Justin thinks it’s safe, I guess.”
Tessa frowned. “That’s vague.”
“It’s kind of a vague situation.” Hoping to deflect from further questioning, Mae added, “It should be like the old days for you. Didn’t you always leave the house in Panama with an entourage?”
Tessa gave her a faint smile and glanced out the window. “Yeah . . . but I’ve sort of gotten used to coming and going on my own. I like it.”
Mae smiled back. Her upbringing hadn’t been quite as cloistered as Tessa’s, but it had had its share of restrictions. Mae could certainly appreciate wanting to come and go on one’s own and hated to put these fetters on Tessa . . . but at the same time, it sickened Mae to think of this girl she’d come to love facing the same kinds of threats she and Justin found themselves continually surrounded in.
“Soon,” said Mae, gently patting Tessa’s arm. “Soon.”
After seeing Tessa safely to school, Mae headed over to the Internal Security building. She had no official position there since her work with Justin was done through an arrangement between IS and the military. Still, enough people knew her that no one questioned her presence, even without Justin. She figured she wouldn’t have any trouble talking her way into a conference room to conduct her interviews, but as bureaucratic luck would have it, all of those controlled by the Division of Sect and Cult Investigation were booked that morning.
“Sorry, praetorian,” said the department’s receptionist, seeming genuinely apologetic—and terrified.
Mae weighed her options, wondering if she should contact the interviewees and relocate elsewhere. She’d really wanted to have the full power of IS behind her to impart gravity on the situation, and a coffee shop or even Justin’s house just didn’t have that same effect.
“There’s nothing we could use in another department?” Mae asked.
The receptionist shook his head. “Not that I have access to. Why don’t you just use Dr. March’s office? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
Mae hesitated and then agreed. She’d wanted gravity, and Justin’s official office certainly conveyed it. He’d received a significant upgrade upon becoming SCI’s covert investigator of actual paranormal phenomena, earning a corner spot with wide, glass windows that looked down upon the bustling streets of Vancouver below. As Mae walked around the office after the aide had left, she was surprised at how little of himself Justin had put into it—and that she was even aware of that fact. Most of his work was done on the road in their missions or in his home office. This place, with its expensive glass desk and grand view, was just a formality. There were no personal effects. Even the art on the walls was just part of the set that SCI’s interior designer had obtained to match the rest on the department’s floor.