“Hey,” she said softly, standing close to him. “You okay?”
He nodded. “They didn’t take anything and no one got hurt, so I guess it could have been worse.”
“When did it happen?” she asked.
“This morning while we were at church.”
“How did you know if nothing was taken?”
“The alarms on the back door were tripped.” He hesitated before continuing. “And stuff was moved around in my room like it had been in Allegra’s and the others.”
Something cold slithered up her back as he said it.
“And you’re sure nothing was taken?”
“Nothing we could see.”
She had an image of Maximilian touching Xander’s things, looking for something personal. Something Xander wouldn’t miss.
“So they’re really doing it,” Claire said softly, horrified all over again. “They’re taking stuff from us.”
“Not all of us.”
She met his eyes. “Right. Everyone but me.”
She felt guilty, like it was her fault she hadn’t been victimized. Then she remembered the photograph and her discovery.
“I think I found out something about Max—”
“Not yet,” Xander said, looking around nervously. “The meeting’s about to start.”
Bernard stood and cleared his throat. “As you all know, we suffered a residential break-in this morning while we were at church. The details aren’t significant except to say it was very like the break-ins some of you in this room experienced. Nothing appears to be missing. In fact, we might not know at all except for a broken window in the study and some things moved around in Alexandre’s room.”
“I’d like to know what’s really going on,” Bridget suddenly demanded.
Even from the back of the room, Claire could see Bridget’s hands trembling.
Bernard leveled his gaze at her. “I assure you that we are using every means available to get to the bottom of it. You know as much as we know.”
Bridget laughed a little, but it was as brittle as the ice in her glass. “I highly doubt that. I know I’m the newest member here, but that doesn’t give you a right to keep me in the dark. Someone broke into my house, too, you know.”
“I think we all know what’s going on here,” Julia St. Martin said quietly.
The room grew hushed as everyone looked at Bernard.
This is it, Claire thought. He’s going to tell the truth. He’s going to tell them Max is behind the orders of panther blood, the break-ins, all of it. He’s going to explain why.
“Julia.” Bernard’s voice was a warning, a low rumble of thunder just before a violent storm. “That will be all.”
She sat up straighter, indecision warring across her elegant features. Claire had a flash of Allegra. Saw her strength in the set of her mother’s jaw, her stubbornness in the fire lighting Julia’s eyes.
“We have to do something,” Julia said softly, fear threading her voice.
Claire watched Bernard’s face carefully, wondering if it was her imagination that his right eye was twitching a little.
“It’s all under control,” he said. “My alarm system is being upgraded as we speak, and I’ve asked Palmwood Security to consult with each and every one of you before you leave. The Guild will fund immediate upgrades to your stores and residences as you see fit, and we will retain on-site security for those of you who want it until the threat passes.”
“And what if it doesn’t?” Julia asked.
“It will,” Bernard insisted. His eyes dared anyone to disagree.
The room was uncomfortably silent, some of the women fidgeting with their clothes while the men stood quietly by, making it clear they didn’t intend to challenge Bernard’s authority.
Catching Claire’s eye, Xander tipped his head toward the hall. They slipped out the door at the back of the room and headed outside.
EIGHTEEN
Xander took her hand and they followed the path to the arbor, the security men talking and calling out to one another as they worked around the property.
“They’re resetting the alarms,” Xander explained. “Making them more sensitive, connecting them to every room in the house instead of just the main entrances, and attaching the alarm to my dad’s cell so it’ll alert him, even when we’re out, if someone tries to break in again.”
They reached the arbor and Claire dropped onto one of the garden chairs.
. . . we might not know at all except for a broken window in the study and some things moved around in Alexandre’s room.
Maximilian had something of Xander’s.
And Max was going to use it to hurt him, Claire just knew it.
She tried to focus on what she’d learned, hoping for a way forward. A way to stop whatever was happening.
“I figured something out,” she finally said. “About Maximilian.”
Xander sat next to her. “What is it?”
“I couldn’t decide why that group picture looked so familiar, but then I . . .” She stumbled, not ready to admit she’d used the craft. There was no proof the gris-gris bag and spell is what had done it. It was only a dream. “I remembered.”
“Remembered what?” Xander’s brown eyes were full of concern.
“My dad has the same picture in his study, but the one on his wall has a piece shaved off the side. Look.” She pulled out her phone, flipping through her pictures, trying not to feel sick when she saw the one of Xander, the one that probably, at this very minute, had an X drawn through it. She stopped when she came to the group photo she’d recorded from the house on Dauphine.
She turned it so Xander could see the screen and pointed to the right edge of the photo, the place where Maximilian stood, his eyes glaring defiantly at the camera, the little girl in her wheelchair in front of him.
“See this man?”
Xander nodded.
“I think it’s Maximilian. I mean, he’s obviously younger in this photo, but I think it’s him.”
Xander peered more closely at the image. “Is that . . . my parents? And . . .” He pointed to the woman in the flowy dress. “Your mother?”
Claire nodded. “This is obviously a photo of all the Guild families. More specifically, it’s a photo of the families who hold all the power. If you look closely, you can see Allegra’s parents and Sasha’s and the Valcours. Bridget was pregnant, so it must have been about thirteen years ago, just before Daniel was born.” Claire met his eyes. “Maximilian was one of them, Xander. One of us.”
Xander’s forehead was furrowed as he thought about what she said. “You said part of the picture in your dad’s study was cut off?”
“Yeah, this part.” Claire pointed to the side where Maximilian stood. “It’s like they wanted to pretend he’d never existed. Like he’d never been one of them.”
“No one leaves the Guild,” Xander said. He shrugged, remembering. “Not willingly.”
“Right, which is why my bet is on Maximilian getting kicked out. The question is what happened that would make him target us? And why did he get kicked out in the first place?”
“I don’t know,” Xander said, pacing. “I don’t get any of it.”
“Don’t get any of what?”
Claire turned toward the voice as Sasha stepped into the arbor.
“Hey,” Claire said. “I think I figured something out. I was filling Xander in. Is Allegra coming?”
“Oh, she’s coming,” Sasha said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Claire asked.
“It means, that girl could make texting an Olympic sport. I think the longest I went without a text from her last night was three hours, and that was between three a.m. and six a.m. I’m exhausted.”