***
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 cross 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 everything 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 everything. 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."