"Have we had dinner?" Clay's muffled voice floated up from the pillows.
"What?"
He rolled onto his back. "I'm counting meals. We had breakfast in Maine, then another breakfast here. Or was that brunch? If so, was the picnic lunch or dinner?"
"I'm counting it as lunch," I said.
"Good. Then let's go get dinner."
Jeremy insisted on being poite and inviting the others to join us. As Clay knocked at Kenneth and Adam's room, the neighboring door opened and Adam stepped out, turning to say a few words to someone inside. When Kenneth opened his door, Clay went in. I waited outside for Adam.
"We're going to dinner," I said. "Have you eaten?"
"Nope. I was just about to ask you guys the same thing. Let me grab my car keys."
"Was that Paige?" I said, nodding to the next room.
"Yeah. She's pretty upset."
"Should I ask her to join us?"
He shrugged. "You can ask, but I don't think she's feeling up to it. If not, tell her I'll bring something back."
I'd rather Adam asked Paige himself, but he vanished into his room, leaving me to it. I was probably the last person Paige wanted to see. Her aunt was dead and I hadn't even had the decency to tell her straight off. I inhaled, walked to her door, and rapped lightly, half hoping she might not hear me. After a second's pause, I turned to leave. Then I heard the clank of the chain lock and the door opened.
"Hey, there," Paige said, managing a wan half-smile. "You still up? How are you feeling? I've got some sleeping teas if you're having trouble."
How was I feeling? Oh, about two inches tall. Paige's eyes and nose were splotched red, as if she'd spent the last couple of hours crying, and she was worried that I might not be able to sleep?
"I'm really sorry," I said. "About your aunt. I don't mean to intrude, but we're heading out for dinner and I was wondering if you felt like joining us."
"No," she said. "Thanks, but no thanks."
"Adam said he'd bring something back for you."
She gave a distracted nod, paused, then said quickly, "Could you--I don't mean to be a pain. Really. I know you're tired and sore, and I hate to pester you, but could you stop by when you come back? I have--"
She stopped and looked over my shoulder. I heard Clay's footsteps behind me. Paige paused, then straightened up, as if bracing herself, and went on. "Clayton, I was just asking Elena if you could spare her for a while tonight. Thirty minutes tops. I promise."
"You're not coming to dinner?" he asked.
"I'd rather not."
"No one stays alone," he said. "That's Jeremy's rule." I shot him a glare, warning him to be more sensitive, but he didn't catch it and continued. "Cassandra will stay with you."
"Oh, she'll love that," Paige said.
"If she doesn't like the rules, she can leave."
"We should all be so lucky," Paige murmured under her breath. "Seriously, though. You don't need to leave someone behind with me. I have plenty of protection spells."
"Those are the rules," Clay said. "No one stays alone. It's not like Cassandra eats anyway." He started to leave, then added, "If Elena's feeling up to it, she can stop by with your dinner. Twenty minutes. Then she needs her rest."
"Gee, does that mean I have your permission?" I called after him.
"I'm not answering that," he said without turning.
"Smart man." I looked at Paige. "I'll pop by afterward."
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
CHAPTER 41
CORONATION
At ten I returned to Paige's room, her still-warm dinner in hand. I found her alone.
"Where's Cassandra?" I asked.
"Out. Trolling for dinner or companionship. I refuse to be the former and I don't qualify to be the latter. Wrong gender."
"No one is supposed to be alone. Does Jeremy know she's taking off on you?"
"No, and I'm not tattling, so let's keep it between us. Personally, I feel safer when she's gone. A vampire isn't exactly my ideal choice for a roommate. One attack of the midnight munchies and I'm a goner. I was bunking up with Adam, but sharing a room with Cassandra was putting a definite strain on Kenneth's nerves, so we switched."
"So you and Adam are ... together?"
She frowned, then caught my meaning and laughed. "Oh, God, no. We've been friends since we were kids. Trust me, we know each other too well for anything else." She walked to the mini-fridge. "Can I get you something to drink? I have bottled water, diet soda. Nothing stronger, I'm afraid."
"That's okay."
"Just get on with it, right?"
"I didn't mean--"
She waved a hand. "Don't worry. I know you're tired and, again, I apologize for bugging you. It's just, well, I'm working on specs, blueprints and such for the compound. I know we don't need them right away but, well, I want to keep busy. It's easier--" She nibbled at her lower lip, looked away. "Easier if I have something to do, keep my mind occupied."
I knew what she meant. Last year when two of my Pack brothers died, only action had assuaged my grief. I'd thrown myself into plotting against the mutts who'd killed them, partly for revenge and partly to keep from dwelling on their deaths. In preparing for our onslaught against those who'd killed Ruth, Paige was doing the same. I understood that.
"I've got most of it done already," she said, passing me a notebook from the table. "All I need is for you to fill in a few blanks."
I flipped through her notes. "Actually, Jeremy has most of this. You could--"
"Get it from him. Right. Sure." She turned, but not before I saw disappointment flicker across her face. "Guess I should have known he'd be two steps ahead of me. Okay, then, well, that's all I wanted. Sorry about that. I wasn't thinking."
"Oh, wait. There's a couple of things here Jeremy hadn't asked," I lied. "Tell you what. I'm not tired yet. How about I fill in every thing you're missing. Even if I've already told Jeremy, it never hurts to have two copies."
"Oh?" For the first time since I'd arrived, her smile touched her eyes. "That's great. Thanks."
Like I said, I knew how she felt. Well, I didn't know exactly how she felt, having no idea how close she'd been to her aunt, but I understood that she needed something to do, something to make her feel that she was taking action. Providing that was the least I could do.
When we finished, I offered to spend the night in Paige's room, arguing that Cassandra seemed in no rush to return and that Jeremy was sharing our room, so no one would be alone even if I stayed. Paige refused. She assured me her lock spells would keep out most intruders and her protection spells would warn her if anyone bypassed the locks. I suspected she wanted to be alone with her grief, so I didn't push the matter.
That night I dreamed of escaping the compound. Over and over. Each time the circumstances differed, but one element remained the same. I left Savannah behind. Sometimes I forgot about her until I was outside and it was too late. At other times my guilt was more obvious. I ran past her cell and I didn't stop. I heard her calling my name and I didn't stop. I saw Leah reach out to grab her ... and I didn't stop. Finally as the dream replayed its umpteenth version, I was running for the open exit door. Then Savannah appeared on the other side, urging me on. I stopped. I turned around. And I ran the other way.
I bolted upright, gasping for breath. Clay was awake, holding me, brushing the sweat-sodden hair from my face.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
As I shook my head, his arms tightened, but I didn't look at his face. Didn't want to. This wasn't something I could discuss with him. He'd only try to convince me that I'd done the right thing getting myself out safely. If the situation were reversed, would I want Clay risking his life to save a stranger? Of course not. But the point would be moot because Clay would never take any risk to save a stranger. He'd throw himself in front of a bullet to protect his Pack, but he wouldn't stop to help an accident victim. If I was there, he'd do it to please me, but if he was alone, the thought would never cr
oss his mind.
I didn't expect Clay to care about Savannah. Well, maybe I still held out hope that he'd develop a social conscience, but I'd learned that such a change ranked alongside world peace on the scale of well-meaning but naive wishes. Clay cared about his Pack and only his Pack. How could I expect him to understand my guilt over Savannah?
As I eased back into Clay's arms, I noticed Jeremy across the room, propped on his elbow, watching me from the cot. He lifted his brows in an unspoken question. Did I want to talk to him instead? I gave a small shake of my head and lowered myself onto the bed. I could sense them both watching me, but closed my eyes and feigned sleep. Eventually the room went still. When it did, I slipped onto my back and lay there in the dark, thinking.
Had I jumped to conclusions earlier, when I decided it had been Leah causing the trouble and framing Savannah? What if I persuaded Jeremy to strike early, then discovered I'd been mistaken? What if people died because of that mistake? And what if I did nothing and Savannah died because of that mistake? I had to find a middle ground. If we had enough information, acting swiftly would be to our advantage. Did we know enough? Or, more accurately, what were our chances of learning more? Pretty slim. We had the data I'd gathered from inside the compound, plus what Clay had learned from scouting the site, plus what the others had uncovered in their research. Whatever we didn't know by now, we'd likely never find out. We had to concentrate on formulating a plan--
Outside, a neighboring door clicked. I tensed and listened. Our group occupied all the rooms at this end. Was someone going out? No, wait. It was probably Cassandra returning. I checked the clock. Two thirty-five. Oh, that's great. We ask her to keep an eye on Paige and she takes off for half the night. Paige might not want to tattle, but I would. Jeremy needed to know we couldn't rely on Cassandra to back up Paige.
As I reclined onto the pillow, I heard shoes scuff against pavement outside. I glanced at Clay and Jeremy. Sound asleep. I eased out of bed and tiptoed to the window. Lifting a drapery corner, I peered out to see Paige stealing across the parking lot, suitcase in one hand, notebook in the other. Shit!
Being careful not to wake the guys, I tugged on my jeans and shirt and crept out the door. Paige rounded the bird pen and vanished into the darkness beyond. Barefooted, I scampered after her, one eye on my target, the other on the pavement, watching for broken glass. When I reached the bird pen, a pheasant roused itself, opened one sleepy eye, then squawked and jetted into the air. Damn it! Sometimes there were serious disadvantages to being a werewolf. Even as I lunged away from the cage, several other birds awoke and added their voices to the din. So much for a stealthy approach. I raced through the grove of trees where I'd last seen Paige and found her in an auxiliary parking lot. She stood beside a car, frowning in the direction of the panicking birds. When she saw me, she fumbled with the keys, barely getting the door open before I arrived.
"Uh, hi," she said, faking a bright smile. "You're out late."
"Going somewhere?" I asked.
"Ummm, just out for something to eat." She backed into the driver's seat. "The stuff you brought me got cold so I thought I'd go see if I can find a 7-11 or something."
"You won't mind if I join you then," I said as I snapped the passenger door lock and slid inside. I gestured to her suitcase. "Hell of a purse you've got there."
She laid her hands on the steering wheel spokes, paused, then glanced at me. "I'm leaving, Elena. I know this is a bad way to do it, but I was afraid someone would try to stop me. It's too much for me. I'm backing out."
"I'm sorry about your aunt."
"She--" Paige looked out the windshield. "She wasn't my aunt."
"Oh, well, your Coven sister or whatever you--"
"She was my mother."
"Your--?"
"That's how it works in the Coven," Paige said, keeping her eyes on the windshield. "Or how it used to work. The old way, from my mother's time. Witches didn't marry, so they avoided the stigma of single-motherhood by raising their daughters as nieces. No one outside the Coven knew the truth. In my case Adam knows, but that's about it. When my mother was young, she was too busy preparing to be Coven leader to think about an heir. Once she became leader, she realized the Coven was faltering and decided she needed a daughter, someone she could train and prepare in her own way. So when she was fifty-two, she used magic to have a daughter. Me."
"So that means you're ...?"
"The official new Coven leader." Her lips twisted in a sardonic smile. "It'd be funny if it wasn't so ridiculous. A twenty-two-year-old leader." She inhaled sharply and shook her head. "Doesn't matter. The point is that I've been trained for this. For the responsibility. I can't expect Jeremy or Kenneth or Cassandra to accept me as a fellow leader yet, but I know I can do it. Right now, though, I have to go home. There are things to be done, arrangements to be made."
"I understand." I leaned over her lap and lifted the notebook she'd let slip between her seat and the door. "But if you're going home, you won't be needing this."
She grabbed the book from me. "Oh, actually, I do. For the Coven records."
"You aren't going home, Paige. You're going to the compound."
She forced a laugh. "By myself? That'd be crazy."
"My sentiments exactly. I understand you must want revenge for your mother, and I promise you'll get it when we go back, but there's no--"
As confusion flitted across her face, I realized revenge wasn't her motive. Then I recalled Ruth's warning, telling me not to let Paige know about Savannah or she'd insist on rescuing the girl.
"You're going after Savannah," I said.
"I have to," she said quietly.
"Because your Coven expects it?"
"No, because I expect it. How can I be Coven leader if I let this girl die? How could I live with myself? Look, I'm not stupid and I'm not suicidal. I'm not going in there, spells blazing, tearing the place apart. I couldn't do that anyway. All I want is Savannah. I'll be careful. I'll take my time, scout the place out, and find a way to get her. You guys don't need to worry about this. It's witch business. I--"
Paige's door flew open, nearly toppling her to the ground. Clay shoved his head into the car. Paige jumped and edged toward me.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Paige wants to go after Savannah."
"Oh, fuck!" He slammed the door and strode around to my side. "Let me guess. She's going after the kid and she needs your help."
"I don't--" Paige began.
"She's not asking for my help," I said, getting out of the car. "She wants to do it alone."
"So she decided to tell you about it first? Call you out here, tell you what she's up to, and expect you'll let her go alone? Bullshit. She's playing on your sympathy. You'll insist on going with her and--"
"She didn't call me out," I said. "I followed her."
Paige slid from the car, straightened, and met Clay's eyes. "I'm doing this alone, Clayton. I'm not asking for or accepting any help."
"Are you crazy?" He walked over and tried to pluck the keys from her fist, but she backpedaled. He stopped and held his hand out. "Give me those, Paige. You're not going anywhere."
She looked from Clay to me, as if assessing her chances of escape.
"Not a prayer," I said. "There's two of us. We can outrun you. We can outfight you. Unless you've got a doomsday spell up your sleeve, you ain't leaving."
She glanced over her shoulder and seemed ready to make a break for it when Jeremy stepped from the bushes behind her. She hesitated. Then her shoulders sagged and the keys slid from her hand.
"Come inside," Jeremy said. "We'll talk."
"I have to get Savannah out," Paige said as we walked into our motel room. "You guys don't get it. I don't expect you to. Like I told Elena, it's witch business."
"We understand that you're concerned for her," Jeremy began.
Paige spun to face him. "Concerned? I'm terrified for her." She flipped through her notebook and jabbed a finger at a page. "Look,
I wrote down every thing that happened that night Elena escaped. I divided the events into potential sorcerer versus telekinetic half-demon activity. There's some overlap, but between the two they cover every thing. Now, what are the chances that this sorcerer and half-demon independently decided to raise hell on the same night? Sure, it's possible that one started things and the other joined in, but I doubt it. This half-demon is working with a sorcerer."
"Okay," I said.
Paige's gaze traveled across our faces. "See? You don't get it. You can't."
"Explain it to us," Jeremy said.
She inhaled. "Sorcerers hate witches. And vice versa. The biggest feud in the history of supernatural races. Our version of the Hatfields and the McCoys. Only the sorcerers do all the shooting. We're an ugly reminder--" She inhaled again. "You guys don't need a history lesson. Just trust me on this one. If Leah is working with Katzen, and she's blaming Savannah for murder, then that's trouble. Big trouble. I can't begin to fathom their motivation, but I know Savannah is in danger. In one night, Winsloe and his cohorts have lost both their werewolves and suffered untold damage to their facility. Who will shoulder the blame for all that? The child witch. Isn't that what this Leah told you before you escaped? That Savannah did it?"
"They won't kill Savannah," I said. "She's too important."
Even as I spoke the words, I heard my own doubt. With Bauer and Carmichael dead, Winsloe and Matasumi were the only principals left. Matasumi might want Savannah alive, but he was just a scientist. Winsloe had the cash, so he was in charge. I remembered the conversation I'd overheard between Matasumi and the man I assumed to be Katzen. At that time, Winsloe had already begun throwing his weight around, picking and choosing the sort of captives he wanted. Winsloe had no interest in witches. I knew that. Savannah was alone now, without even Xavier to protect her.
"This is all speculation," Clay said.
"Which I fully admit," Paige said. "Which is why I'm not endangering any lives but my own."
"You can't do that," Jeremy said. "If you're the new Coven leader, you have to consider the best interests of your Coven. What happens if they lose both Ruth and her successor? You have a responsibility to stay alive, if only until you've selected and trained the next leader."
"But--"
"Let's see what we can do," he said. "Give me your notes and we'll review what we have."
Stolen Page 34
