“And it worked, Bee,” Lydia added, grimacing. “It worked brilliantly. You don’t have control over this thing you’ve set in motion—no one does.”
Beatrix leapt to her feet, her hand slipping from his. “These wizards are dangerous! They’re not going to stop with tele-vision cameras, and you know we can’t count on saving you again when—not if,when—those bastards make a second attempt! We have to get out in front of this! I—” She stepped closer to her sister. “I can’t lose you.” The words came out half-strangled. “I can’t.”
“And yet you never spend any time with me!”
Beatrix sagged, as if these words let all the air out of her. Lydia left the room, the door banging shut behind her.
“Oh,” Beatrix said, tears flowing freely now, “oh, oh,oh.”
“Sit,” he urged. “Wait here.”
He found her sister in the kitchen again, head on her arms.
“Lydia …” he said, then hit a wall—no idea what to add to that.
“What I said to her was true,” she said, the words muffled. “I’m sorry I said it, but it’s the truth.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Turn the clock back and keep this from happening.” She looked up at him, eyes red. “I don’t see what I really can do except go to the four League leaders and ask them to do what they can to stop it. But even if they agree, they can’tmakeanyone else stop.”
He nodded, the sick feeling in his stomach intensifying.
“Please talk to her,” she murmured. “See if we missed anything that would allow us to undo this.”
Very unlikely. But he returned to the receiving room. Beatrix looked up, unhappiness dulling her normally bright eyes, and so many conflicting emotions battered him that he could not hold her gaze.
“I’m sorry,” she said, hoarseness edging her voice. “I didn’t want to lie to you. I didn’t want to keep this from you. I just … didn’t know what to do.”
He sat at her feet, leaning his back against the chair. “Is there any way for me to think of this except as a betrayal?”
Her breath hitched.
“I understand now,” he said heavily. “I do. But if you’d told me …”
“Then what? What’s the alternative? Or—or do you also think I’m crazy for believing that Lydia’s life is in danger?”
He shook his head. “No, I agree with you.” He took a moment to collect his thoughts and added: “I will do all I can to protect her. I’ll invisibly bodyguard her any time you say the word. This is a top priority for me, Beatrix—she’s my Plan B.”
“What?” she whispered.
“I may never find a defense against Project 96,” he reminded her, choking the words out. “If so, she’s my only hope.”
“Peter …” She slid off the chair and kneeled on the floor next to him. “What I’ve done is my Plan B. And it would help both of us, don’t you see? Women who use magic meet the constitutional qualifications for national office.”
“But that assumes something doesn’t go terribly wrong first. When it does—when it inevitablydoes,” he said, raising his voice as she started to interrupt, “the wizards will swiftly trace it back to you. And then they’ll come for me. Did you not consider the consequences for me at all, or did you just not care?”
“No, no, I didn’t put you at risk, I swear it.” She looked so earnest he could see she believed that. He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. “There’s no way for the wizards to trace it back to me, or you.”
“Beatrix,” he bit out, “you’ve no idea the pressure that will be put on your recruits to cough up names. None of them will be able to withstand that. None.”
“Every one of them took a Vow.”
His heart sped up. He exhaled, trying to tamp down wild hope. “To do … what, exactly?”
“To not say they were recruited—in fact, to say nothing about what they know or suspect regarding their recruiter, any previous recruiter or how any of the women learned magic.”
He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “And that’s it? You thought that sufficient?”
