"Uh, Lucas?" I said.
When I had his attention, I tapped my fingers against my left breast. He arched one eyebrow, lips curving in a slow grin. I rolled my eyes and discreetly pointed at his shirt. His gaze slid down to the bloody bullet hole.
"Ah," he said. "Perhaps I should wait outside . . . in the alley or someplace suitably dark."
"I'll come with you," I said. "Elena? Can I borrow your cell? I should call Cassandra, let her know we're okay, in case she's noticed we've been missing for eighteen hours."
"Not likely," Clay muttered. "Ten bucks says she hasn't noticed you've left the hotel room yet."
"That, I believe, is a wager I just might win," Lucas said. "In fact, I'll raise it to twenty and postulate that she's not only noticed, but started looking for us."
Clay shook his head. "Hate to take advantage of youthful optimism, but, sure, you're on. Twenty bucks it is."
***
It turned out that we didn't need Elena's cell phone after all. Lucas's was still working—though I really hoped no one had called while we'd been in the ghost world, or they'd have racked up a hell of a long-distance charge.
Cassandra wasn't at the hotel. She was out, with Aaron, looking for us, and had been since early the previous afternoon.
"How'd you know that?" I whispered to Lucas when Jaime told me the news.
He only gave a small smile and waved for me to continue talking to Jaime, who'd just returned to the hotel an hour ago, too exhausted from her nights of haunting to continue the search. I told her I'd track down Cassandra via Aaron's cell.
"Better call Benicio first," she said. "He's going nuts. I swear, the city's crawling with supernaturals tonight looking for you two. I heard he called in every Cortez security force in the country. We notified him as soon as we realized you guys were missing." She paused. "Hope that was okay."
"It was. Thanks. Will we see you later? Or are you taking off already?"
"Taking off?"
"Back on tour. Now that everything is over—"
"Over? What about Edward?"
"Oh, right. Sorry. Let me back up."
I told her what she didn't know. Then she told me what I didn't know. When Elena and Clay came out of the restaurant, Lucas and I were huddled together, talking quietly as we tried to absorb the news.
"What's up?" Elena said.
"We have a problem," I said.
"What?"
"Bad guy
not
dead."
Standoff
Last time I'd seen Edward, he'd been running for the portal, so we assumed he'd jumped through right after us. He hadn't made it. Less than an hour after we disappeared, Edward phoned John in New Orleans asking to be put in contact with Cassandra. John had the good sense to hand over Aaron's number, rather than try negotiating with Edward himself. When Edward finally got in touch with Cassandra, he demanded that she, as the vampire delegate to the council, negotiate on his behalf with the Cortez Cabal.
This made no sense to me. If Edward knew Natasha was waiting on the other side, why would he want to bargain his way out of a death sentence? Turned out he didn't. As Cassandra explained, Edward knew he'd be executed for his crimes, and he accepted that . . . so long as his punishment ended there. In a Cabal court, there is a sentence worse than execution: execution plus an afterlife curse, which sends your soul into limbo. For a vampire, the threat held little power, since most assumed they didn't have an afterlife. Can't curse a soul that doesn't exist. But now Edward knew better. Natasha still lived, in some form, in some place, and he wanted to be with her. Maybe this was why Natasha had been trying to contact Jaime, to somehow negotiate with us or pass along a message to Edward, telling him to stop and accept execution before he went too far. But now he had gone too far. In killing Lucas, he'd ensured that his death would come with every curse Benicio could dream up. His only hope was to negotiate an ironclad settlement before Benicio knew his beloved youngest son was gone.
The problem was that Cassandra knew nothing about portals and Cabal curses, and didn't even know for certain that we'd found Edward. She knew only that we were missing and he might be to blame. So she did the obvious: demanded to know where we were, whereupon Edward realized everyone knew we'd disappeared, which meant any hope of negotiating with the Cabals had also disappeared, which meant he didn't need Cassandra to mediate for him. So he'd hung up.
Not surprisingly, no one had heard from Edward since. My first thought was that it was still over. Edward would go into hiding, no more Cabal kids would die, and the problem would be resolved, however unsatisfying that resolution might be. Again, Jaime knew differently. When Edward had been trying to persuade Cassandra to negotiate for him, his terms were that he would stop the killings if the Cabal reopened a portal for him. Of course that made no sense to Cassandra, and Edward hung up before she could demand an explanation. Once I told Jaime what happened, though, she knew exactly what he'd meant.
Once a portal to the ghost world had been ripped open, it remained "hot" for about forty-eight hours. That meant, with the right materials, it could be reactivated. As for what material such a reopening required, Jaime knew only that it involved a sacrifice—a human sacrifice. Yet she also knew it wasn't as easy as selecting a random victim from the street. She had an idea where she could find details on the ritual, and promised to do so immediately. While I'd explained the situation to Elena and Clay, Lucas had called his father. We talked for another couple of minutes, then set out for our respective rental cars, which were parked in a lot near Edward's hotel. We got less than a block before a familiar black SUV squealed a U-turn in front of us.
"How the hell . . . ?" I said.
"Cell phone tracking, I would presume," Lucas murmured.
As the SUV pulled to the curbside, I turned to say something else to Lucas, then saw the bloodstained bullet hole on his shirt.
"Shit!" I said. "Your shirt. A jacket, does anyone have—"
No one did, but it didn't matter. Before the SUV even stopped rolling, the rear door opened and Benicio flew out. And, of course, the first thing he saw was that bullet hole.
Benicio stopped in mid-stride, gaze glued to that bloodied hole in Lucas's shirt. All color drained from his face. He took one unsteady step toward his son. Lucas hesitated only a split second, then met Benicio in an embrace.
As the two hugged, Elena slipped off to the side, then returned, grabbed Clay's arm, and tugged him away, motioning to me that they'd wait around the corner to give us privacy.
Lucas tried to explain away the hole, but it was too late. Benicio had already been to see Faye and she'd told him that Lucas was Edward's next target. She hadn't known Lucas had been shot, but the moment Benicio saw that shirt, he knew, and there was no sense fudging the facts. We did, however, gloss over our afterlife visit, saying only that we'd fallen through the portal and reawakened here. Later, Benicio would undoubtedly press for details, but for now he didn't care. Lucas was safe. That was all that mattered.
"So now we still need to find Edward," Lucas said. "He'll probably lie low—"
Benicio shook his head. "He'll want to reopen the portal."
"We did . . . entertain that possibility," Lucas said. "We have Jaime looking into it now."
"And I'll get our researchers on it right away. For now, though, my first priority is you. I've made arrangements for you and Paige to be flown to the safe house, where you'll—"
"No, Papa," Lucas said quietly.
Benicio met his son's gaze. "Don't argue with me on this, Lucas. You are going—"
"I am going to continue what I started. As long as Edward is free, I still have a job to do."
"Your job is done. It ends here, Lucas. I have never interfered before—"
Lucas gave him a look.
Benicio's mouth set. "Not with this, I haven't. I have never tried to stop these crusades of yours or dissuade you from them." He stepped back. "Do you think I don't know how often your life is in danger, Lucas? Do you know how many nights I've spent worrying? Wondering what kind of trouble you'll get into next? But I have
never
said a word. You jaunt off to Boston to take on Kristof Nast over a witch, and I say nothing. You fly to California to confront a potential serial killer, and I say nothing. But now I am saying something. This time, my name isn't enough to protect you, so I'm damned well going to do it myself. You are going to that—"
"No, Papa."
They locked gazes and for a minute, just stood there, staring at one another. Then Lucas gave a slow shake of his head.
"No, Papa. This is my fight, just as much as anything else I've ever done. You're right. All the 'risks' I've ever taken haven't been risks at all, because of you and who I am. That has always kept me safe. So now, when I am—possibly for the first time—in real danger, do you honestly expect me to hide behind you? What kind of man would that make me?"
"A safe one."
Lucas met his father's glare with an unblinking stare. After a moment, Benicio turned away. From his profile, I could see his jaw working, struggling to rein in his anger. Finally, he turned back to Lucas.
"You're taking Troy," he said.
"I don't need a bodyguard, Papa," Lucas said.
"You—"
"He already has one," drawled a voice behind us.
We turned to see Clay heading our way. Although they'd been twenty feet away, and around the corner, they couldn't help eavesdropping—one drawback to a werewolf's enhanced hearing.
"I've got it covered," Clay said. "He needs a bodyguard; he's got me."
Benicio looked at Clay. Then his gaze slid to Elena, who was coming up behind Clay. He gave the barest nod, as if making the mental connection.
"Clayton Danvers, I presume," Benicio said. "Your reputation precedes you."
"Then you know your son is in good hands."
Benicio hesitated only a moment, then looked at Lucas. "You'll keep your cell phone on?"
Lucas nodded. "And keep you updated."
With that, Benicio let us go. A relatively easy victory. Too easy. When Benicio was gone, Lucas told us to expect to be tailed to the hotel by another car, one carrying a Cortez security team. And we were. So Benicio had assigned long-distance bodyguards. An inconvenience, but better than having Troy oversee our every move—and relay our every move back to Benicio.
***
We took the food back to Jeremy and Savannah, and filled them in.
After we'd finished, Jeremy walked to the nearest window and parted the curtains. "We have about an hour of darkness left. Elena . . ."
"Get back to the alley and get sniffing," she said. "Do you guys have anything belonging to Edward?"
"A shirt taken from his clothes hamper," Lucas said. When Elena gave him an odd look, he explained, "We needed a personal item for a clairvoyant."
"Clair—? You mean like—?" Elena stopped and shook her head. "My world was so much less confusing when it only had werewolves. A worn shirt is perfect." She shot a grin at Clay. "Even you could track from that."
"Yeah? Well, in that case, you won't mind me coming along . . . unless you're afraid I'll find him first, show you up."
Her grin broadened. "Never."
"Good. So—" Clay stopped and looked at Lucas. "Or maybe you'll need to handle this one on your own, darling. I promised Lucas's dad—"
"Go on," Lucas said. "Even my father would admit I'm safe here. Edward could hardly break in and overpower all of us."
Both Clay and Elena looked over at Jeremy, waiting for permission. I still find that very strange, the idea that Pack werewolves don't act without their Alpha's approval. And stranger still that they don't seem to mind. I'm sure it helps that Jeremy never makes a big deal out of it—he'd never jump in when they're in the middle of making plans and yell, "Hey, I never said you could do that!" Instead, he does what he did now, intercepted their questioning looks with the barest of nods.
After visiting Faye, we'd left Edward's shirt in our rental car. Lucas gave Clayton the keys and told him where to find the shirt.
"Paige?" Elena said as they headed for the door. "You want to come along?"
Of course I did, but I also knew it wouldn't score me any points with Clayton.
"You two go on," I said. "I should wait here for Jaime's call."
"Can I go?" Savannah said, jumping up.
A chorus of nos answered her. She scowled and thumped back onto the sofa.
"Have you tried the
arepas
?" Lucas asked her. "These are stuffed with chicken, and those over there are beef."