“Where? Where will she go to meet him?”
I didn’t know. “We never have a planned meeting place. Zane’s. Sometimes he shows up at my apartment.”
“No matter where Kiera meets Clarence, the question is, where will Clarence want to meet you? If he believes that you are a traitor, would he assume that Zane would be his ally? Or his enemy?”
I wasn’t certain what Clarence would think. For that matter, I wasn’t certain what Zane would do. He had no allegiance to the dark. Of that, I’d become certain. But he wanted his reward, and if he helped me, they would certainly take away the promise of mortality.
“I don’t know.”
Deacon nodded, and I could see that he was thinking. “Your apartment,” he said finally. “I could be wrong, but I think Clarence would want to confront you there, where he first met you. Back when he was in control. In Zane’s basement, you’re stronger.”
“I’m stronger in my apartment, too.”
“And that’s why you’re going to win.” He took my hand. “I’m coming with you.”
“No. I need you watch out for Rachel and Rose. If Clarence is onto me, that’s how he’ll try to hurt me.”
He hesitated, then agreed. I think he knew better than to argue with me where Rose was concerned.
My apartment isn’t that far from the Bloody Tongue, and I made the trip in record time, barely even paying attention to where I was going. Only driving. And imagining what I would do when I saw Clarence. Because everything hinged on him now. Everything.
Deacon had destroyed the third relic. I had no idea how he’d managed that, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it didn’t exist, and apparently no one realized that, a fact that gave me the tiniest bit of bargaining power. Because, hey, I was Map Girl. And if you were still in the process of searching for treasure, you didn’t destroy the map, right?
Except I wasn’t so much worried about being destroyed as I was about being tortured. Which was why I had to win this round.
More than that, I had a plan. A simple, brilliant plan, and one I had yet to share with Deacon. But I was certain it would work. It would, because it had to. I was running out of options here, and I figured it was my turn to have some luck, if not for me, then for Rose.
If Penemue and Clarence and Kokbiel all still thought the third key existed, then Johnson did, too. And once I got the incantation out of Clarence’s head for the Vessel of the Keeper, then what was to stop me from telling Johnson that I was going after the third relic?
Nothing, right?
And he’d insist on coming along for the ride, planning on ambushing me for the full Oris Clef. But it wouldn’t matter. Because we’d pull Rose out of Johnson, hide her in the vessel, and get the hell out of there, my sister disembodied but safe and Johnson stuck with his thumb up his ass.
I’ll admit I was still fuzzy on the details—like how long she could stay in the vessel before we found her a suitable body—but on the whole, the plan worked for me.
Best of all, it got Rose free of Johnson and me free of Clarence. There were still almost two weeks left until the convergence, and with Rose safe, I’d happily spend that time searching for this lost legendary key that Deacon seemed to be so convinced existed.
On the whole, my plan put me in a happy place, the only downer the fact that for it to work, I had to kill Clarence.
In theory, that didn’t bother me.
In practice, I had to wonder what kind of tricks the wily beast had up his sleeve. Because I had a feeling there was a lot more to Clarence than met the eye.
I expected to see them both outside my apartment when I got off the elevator. But there was no one. And since Clarence wasn’t allowed in my apartment without permission—and I now realized that must be part of the protections—I almost turned around and headed back to the pub and Deacon.
But I didn’t. For all I knew, the revelation of me as a traitor to the dark cause destroyed the protections. At the very least, I had to look.
I pulled my knife out and held it ready as I unlocked the front door, then pushed it open.
And there he was.
Clarence stood in my living room, his squat body in front of the window, and a beer in his hand. Beside him, Kiera was stretched out in a chair, her feet kicked up on my coffee table.
She turned to look at me, her eyes dark and anger rolling off her in waves. “You fucking bitch,” she said, which was Clarence’s cue to turn around and face me with big, sad eyes.
“How did you guys get in?” I asked, keeping my voice light, deciding to play this as if I were completely innocent.
Kiera cocked her head. “Duh. You think your crappy lock would keep me out?”