Lost Girl: Hidden Book One (22 page)

We were missing something. Something big.

“Mistress?” Bashiok said, shaking me from the circles I was running in my head.

“Yeah?”

“Puppeteer was there, too.”

“We figured they were in cahoots,” I said, rubbing my face.

“She talked to invisible man. Planning something, we think.”

“Yeah. I’m thinking you’re right about that. Let’s go.” I got in the car, and Bashiok and Dahael climbed in, settling themselves in the back seat. I turned the volume up on the stereo, letting AC/DC give me a sense of kickass I was not feeling at the moment.

Every little bit helped.

♦ ♦ ♦

We zipped through downtown, and I parked in the garage below Nain’s building. Imps greeted us, joined us as I headed onto the elevator.

“Is George here?” I asked one of the imps who’d been standing guard at the building.

“Yes, Mistress. Whole team is here now,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. I nodded.

“I want you to stand by. Keep an eye out,” I said softly, addressing the group of imps. “If he goes invisible, try to keep an eye out for him. I don’t want him getting out of the building until Nain decides how to deal with this.”

They nodded, thumped their fists to their chests, once. A sign of respect I really didn’t deserve. I took a deep breath as the elevator creaked to a stop, and I opened the metal grate, letting the imps and I into the foyer. I used my key to unlock the door and we headed in.

I glanced around the loft. Brennan and Stone sat in the living room, watching baseball. Ada and Nain were in the dining room, looking over some maps Ada had spread on the table. George sat on the steps that led up to his room. I filtered out the others and focused on him, while heading over to where Nain and Ada were. Nain greeted me with a quick hug, then went back to talking to Ada.

George. Nervous, angry. Lots of hatred, especially once he’d noticed me enter the loft. Loss. I tried to get into his head, softly, carefully, in a way he wouldn’t notice. His shield was strong. Nain had taught him well.

Nain and Ada finished up, and Nain turned to me. I met his eyes.

We have a traitor, Nain,
I thought at him. This would hurt him. So close after Veronica’s loss, he would have to deal with George’s treachery. He’d taken George in when he was fifteen, homeless, lost, screwed up because of his powers. He’d given George a home and a makeshift family. Made him a force to be reckoned with. And this was how the little shithead repaid him? I was furious on Nain’s behalf.

I felt surprise from Nain. Sadness.
George.

Yeah. The imps saw him hanging out with the Puppeteer at Astaroth’s little get together last night. I’m sorry.

He was silent for several moments. Sadness, uncertainty. Then, he finally nodded. He met my eyes one more time, then leaned down and kissed me, just a light brushing of lips against lips.

He walked into the kitchen, which was near where George was sitting. I stayed put, but glanced around the room. The imps had arranged themselves perfectly. Out of the way, but able to see what was going on. Brennan had noticed too, glanced over at me and raised his eyebrows. What’s going on? he mouthed at me.

I gave a barely perceptible nod toward Nain and George. Brennan glanced that way, then stood up and strolled toward where Nain was.

I was glad. I knew how hard this was going to be for Nain. While he’d raised Brennan as his son, and the two had grown to become friends (even if they were friends who rarely agreed on anything) he’d done almost the same for George. Brennan and George were the same age, had spent their teenage years hanging out together.

George looked up to see Nain and Brennan watching him.

“What’s up?” he asked. I could feel his nervousness spike.

“Did the Puppeteer comfort you well in your time of need, George?” Nain asked. His voice was low, calm. He was doing it again, looking cool and unbothered when his emotions were in turmoil. I hated George a little harder.

George started at Nain in silence. I felt anger from Brennan.

“What are you talking about?” George asked.

“You were seen hanging out with the Puppeteer and other members of Astaroth’s crew last night. Care to explain?”

George was silent, glaring at Nain.

“How the hell could you do that, man?” Brennan asked.

Then, George laughed. “Let me guess. Your pet mindflayer told you so. So of course, you believe her. What a joke.” Then he laughed again and stood up. “You are pathetic.”

“Molly doesn’t lie,” Brennan said. His offense on my behalf was almost as strong as Nain’s.

“And how do you know that? All you know is you’re jealous of Nain for getting into her pants first. How do you know she doesn’t lie? What do we even know about her, other than she showed up and everything went to shit?”

“Everything was already shit. Or were you not here for all the years we spent fighting backwards assholes, including your pal the Puppeteer?” Brennan asked, his voice still calm, though anger raged through him. He was like Nain in many ways I’d never noticed. This was another of those times.

“Veronica is dead because of her!” George shouted, jabbing a finger toward me. “Or did all of you assholes forget that the whole reason we were there last night was because Astaroth used us to lure her there? Wake the fuck up!” he finished.

I had to remember to breathe against the sick feeling inside me. He wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already said. He was right, about that much at least.

“Veronica is dead because a power-hungry shifter used her and a bunch of innocent Normals to gain favor with Astaroth,” Nain said. “Why he used them is irrelevant. You want to blame someone for Veronica’s death, blame Astaroth. Blame the shifter who slit her throat.”

“And since he’s the one you should be blaming, hanging out with his people is a really sick way to honor Roni’s memory,” Brennan added.

The room was silent. Ada and Stone stood in the dining room, watching the group near the stairs. The imps were ready, watching.

“The Puppeteer swears that all he wants is her,” George said. “Why should we get involved in this shit?”

“How much did you tell them, George?” Nain asked. Furious.

“I didn’t need to tell them anything! They know already. You think they don’t know where to find us? They don’t care. You’re not a threat to Astaroth anymore, Nain. He wants her,” he said, waving at me again. “They know where she lives, where we live. They know you two are sleeping together. They know everything. They’re just waiting for their chance.”

“Why were you with them?” Nain asked.

“Because I’m with them on this. She’s not worth any of this shit. She’s not worth losing Veronica.”

I had to respect him. He was a dickhead, and he was stupid for getting pulled into Astaroth’s clutches, but he stood there in front of a very pissed off demon and an equally pissed shapeshifter, and told not just them, but me (someone who scared the living shit out of him) exactly what he thought of me. It took guts, or cluelessness. George was many things, but he wasn’t clueless.

Let him go,
I thought to Nain.
What else can you do?

I can’t just let him go. What kind of message does that send? Double-cross me, and go on your merry way? That doesn’t work.

You can’t kill him.

A few seconds of nothing, while Nain sized up George. George stood, staring back at him. His hands shook, but he was doing a very good job of keeping a rein on the fear inside of him. Resignation that it was over, that he was finished.

I can’t kill him. But you can erase his memory.

No.

George laughed then. “Working it all out with your enforcer, Nain? Just finish me. I’ll even make it easy for you.” He spread his arms and stood, ready. Terrified, but ready.

Molly, do it.
Nain thought at me, the command unmistakable in his tone.

Don’t do that,
I warned.
I’m not doing it. Take his memory, then what? Leave him helpless against the world? No.

I sensed anger from Nain. At me. At George, at everything.

Just let him go.

Nain growled. Closed his mind off from me, something he’d never done before. It was like having a door slammed in my face. “Pack. Leave. Don’t let me see you again. You have ten minutes.”

Then he stalked out of the loft without looking at me, slamming the door behind him.

I spent most of the rest of the day with Ada. She was determined to either teach me a spell or two to protect myself, or craft an object or two to help shield me from magical attacks like the one that had taken Nain’s demonic form from him.

We tried simple conjurings; a spell that would shield me from flames. I tried, over and over again, and never felt anything like the buzzing that Ada described as the calm before the storm; those moments before a spell takes hold. After my sixth try, I threw my hands up in frustration.

“This is impossible!” I said, flopping down onto the wood floor in the training area. Ada laughed. Brennan was sitting, watching us, leaning against the wall.

“It’s okay, honey,” Ada said, coming and sitting down next to me. “I figured it wouldn’t work. Demons usually aren’t able to work even the simplest of spells. But I figured with that little spark of something else in you, maybe you’d be able to. I’ll make you an amulet instead.”

“Thanks. Would have been a useful thing to learn,” I said, irritated with myself.

“You can’t be good at everything, Molly,” Brennan said.

“Yeah. Leave some talent for the rest of us,” Ada joked, nudging me with her elbow. The she got serious. “The only bad thing about an amulet or other item like that is that you have to make sure it’s on you at all times. Astaroth has witches. Why he hasn’t tried something like what he did to Nain against you already is a mystery.”

“He wants her powers,” Brennan said. “He wanted Nain dead. He wants her alive.”

“Thank you for that cheerful interjection, Bren,” I said, standing up and pulling Ada with me. The two of us walked into the kitchen, and Brennan followed. Ada grabbed a cup of coffee and headed into her room/lab to start working on my amulet. Brennan and I stayed in the kitchen, scrounging through the cabinets for something to eat.

“Someone needs to hit the grocery store,” Brennan grumbled.

“It’s your week, isn’t it?”

“Shut up, Molly,” he said, laughing. “You were supposed to volunteer.”

“Grocery shopping is another talent I lack. The one time Veronica came over, all I had to give her was cold cereal. I was just grateful the milk wasn’t expired.” Mentioning Veronica ended the moment of levity. We’d lost so much. I didn’t think I could stand to lose anymore.

“What happened with George?” Brennan asked, studying my face. “I know you and Nain were doing your creepy telepath thing. Nain was pissed when he left here. What happened?”

I resumed my futile search for something salty and bad for me. Stone ate all the good stuff as soon as it came into the loft. “We had a disagreement,” I finally said.

“Yeah, duh. About what?” he asked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

I almost told him. Confided in him. I wanted to. I wanted someone to make me feel like less of an idiot for the way I’d reacted with George. And Brennan would have. He would have understood why what Nain had demanded of me, erasing George’s memory, was wrong.

But this was between Nain and I. Bringing someone else into it, especially Brennan, was wrong, too. I just shook my head.

We were silent for a few minutes, standing there in the kitchen. Frustration rolled off of him. “Well, let me guess,” he said. “He wanted you to use your powers to do something to George that would both punish him and minimize him as a threat. He wanted you to do whatever because he couldn’t kill George, no matter how often he threatens to do it if one of us ever poses a threat to the others. And you said no.” He met my eyes. “You don’t even have to say anything. I know enough about how Nain works to guess why he’s pissed off at you right now.”

He came closer to me, took my hand, the one that now sported Nain’s ring.

“I guess congratulations are in order. I noticed his earlier, before he stormed out.”

I pulled my hand back and glanced up at him. Brennan sighed. “Just, don’t lose yourself in this, Molly. You’re good. You’re so good, and you don’t even realize it. You’re a nightmare. Terrifying. But there’s something in you that shines. Don’t lose that. Even when you have to be a nightmare. Even when you have to make your enemies tremble before you. Don’t lose yourself.”

“I am trying not to,” I said, turning and walking out of the loft. Bashiok and Dahael were stationed in the foyer, as always.

“The house. Any idea if any of them are still there?” I asked, digging through my pockets, seeing what I had on me. Knife. Pepper spray. Phone. It was good enough.

“Yes, Mistress. Demons stayed. Not old master, but the other ones. Lower demons,” Bashiok said, a note of obvious dislike in his voice.

“Any idea how many?”

“At least six.”

I nodded. Pressed the elevator button and stood, waiting. Felt Brennan behind me before he even opened the door and stepped into the foyer with us.

“Wherever you’re going, can I come? I assume there’s going to be asskicking involved,” he said.

I glanced at him. “It’s probably better if I go myself.” Bashiok shook his head in disbelief, staring at me.

Brennan laughed. “I don’t think Bash agrees,” he said. I glared at both of them. “Come on, Molly. I need to do something with all of this shit I’m feeling.”

The elevator creaked to a halt, and I opened the door, waving Brennan inside. “Fine. Let’s go destroy some demons, then.”

He grinned. “Excellent.”

Chapter Fourteen