Chapter 6
Rogan packed me into his Range Rover. I told him I was fine driving my own car, but he pretended to not hear me. Cornelius somehow managed to pack the cat creature into a Ford Explorer by laying down as many seats as he could. He informed us that the cat was a he and that we would call him Zeus.
Rynda finally recovered enough to call the Sherwood chief of security. Before we left, several people in Sherwood House uniforms showed up to secure the house, led by the chief himself. Cornelius decided that would be an appropriate time to mention we had called BioCore and he had hung up on us. Rynda slapped the security chief. Rogan's people confiscated Sherwood computers, loaded Rynda and the kids into an armored car, and our small convoy of five vehicles headed back to base. Two of Rogan's ATVs led the way, Rynda and Cornelius were sandwiched safely in the middle, and Rogan and I brought up the rear.
It was just me and Rogan in the car. I liked to watch him drive. He did it with calm assurance, focused on the road. I liked the lines of his muscular arms, the way he tapped the wheel with his left thumb at long stoplights, and the way he kept glancing at me as if reassuring himself that I was okay in the passenger seat. I didn't like the darkness in his eyes. I'd seen it before. It was a bad sign.
"Is it because of me?"
He didn't answer.
"Are you brooding because of me?"
"Brooding implies marinating in your own self-loathing," he said. "I don't brood."
"Then what are you doing?"
"I'm planning to kill Harcourt."
Rogan didn't tolerate threats, and Vincent Harcourt was a threat. I didn't want to think about how close I'd come to dying tonight.
"He was really strong. I clamped him with my magic and lost him after only two questions. Ten, fifteen seconds max."
"Summoning is a will-based talent."
So was truthseeking. That explained why Vincent was so difficult to hold.
"Victoria Tremaine would've melted his brain," I said. "I barely managed to hold him for a few seconds." And I was spent. I had very little magic left. The familiar fatigue of overextending was settling in.
"You did more than anyone could ask. You bought more than enough time for Cornelius to deploy his iron pan and for Rynda to escape."
"Cornelius was trying to make friends with Zeus. Rynda was in shock."
He didn't say anything, but the darkness in his eyes turned deeper.
"Rogan, I'm in one piece. More importantly, the kids are okay."
"If Cornelius had walked up and brained that bastard while you held him, we would be having an entirely different conversation. Neither of them had the presence of mind to pick up a weapon or run away."
"You can't blame Cornelius. He was fascinated with the cat. It was a compulsion, Rogan. He doesn't think the same way we do and he stepped up in the end when it counted."
"You need better backup."
What I needed was someone to teach me the ins and outs of my magic. Truthseekers were rare and they guarded their secrets. I was practicing, but I've barely begun to scratch the surface.
"Vincent's mind was hexed. It felt familiar. I think it's the same kind of wall I put into Augustine."
A week ago Victoria Tremaine had zeroed in on Augustine, the Prime who owned the large investigative firm that held the mortgage on our business. Augustine had helped me to save a little girl from slow death by arranging for me to pry open her kidnapper's mind. Victoria had come to find out the identity of that truthseeker. To keep Augustine intact and to save myself, I'd put a wall in Augustine's mind. It was a ruse, a fake hex, but it had looked real enough and there was no way to find out if it was false unless Victoria actually attacked Augustine. She decided not to risk it.
"Was it false?" Rogan asked.
"No. The one in Vincent's mind was real."
"Better backup," Rogan repeated, nodding to himself. "Someone trained. Someone who will put your safety first."
"Like who?"
"Like me."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that from now on I'll come with you. Just like before."
"Connor . . ."
He took my hand and squeezed it with his strong fingers. His voice was ragged. "I should've been there. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. You could've died. It scares the hell out of me."
I squeezed his hand back. "I didn't die."
He held my hand.
"Where were you?" I asked.
"Bug found one of the cars exiting a rural road. He couldn't see the license plate, but he swore it was the same vehicle. I took a few people and went to check it out."