“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t let you in,” said the muffled voice of the police officer outside Lydia’s room.
As Peter turned in that direction, the officer added, “No, sir, I’m not checking with them. I have my orders: Absolutely no wizards except Omnimancer Blackwell.”
Peter leapt to his feet, leaves in his hand before his brain caught up. What exactly couldhedo? He looked around for Miss Yamaguchi, discovered as he did so that Beatrix was no longer sitting next to him and turned back to the door just in time to watch her open it.
His“no”died on his lips as he saw who was standing behind the officer. Frederick—Marbella—Draden.
“It’s all right, Officer,” Beatrix said. “He’s a friend.”
The policeman looked at Peter, as if this needed confirmation. “Sir?”
He suppressed a sigh.
“Yes,” he said. “A friend.”
Miss Draden gave a start at that. When the officer stepped out of the way, she entered the room and cast a wary glance in his direction, avoiding his eye. “Omnimancer.”
Peter made himself hold out a hand—for Beatrix’s sake, but also because Miss Draden had given up a comfortable life as her father’s son to save them. After what she’d told theStar, there would be no going back.
“Thank you,” he said.
She shook his hand, opening her mouth as if to say something, then biting her lip. To his relief, Rosemarie interceded: “Come sit here so we invalids don’t have to crane our necks.”
Miss Draden pulled a chair toward Lydia’s bed, expression solemn.
“Wizard Draden,” Peter said, purely for the benefit of any listening devices that might have been installed in the room, “may I introduce Lydia Harper, Rosemarie Dane and Dorothy Yamaguchi.”
As he’d informed the women about Miss Draden the previous night, they murmured “hello” as if it were perfectly normal that the vice president’s son was visiting.
“How are you?” Miss Draden winced. “Forgive me, Miss Harper and Miss Dane, that was an idiotic question.”
Rosemarie chuckled. “We’re pretty banged up, both of us, but healing. How areyou?”
Miss Draden looked at her hands. “Well enough.”
They sat in silence for a long half-minute, Peter struggling with himself. Then he gave in. “Wizard Draden,” he said quietly, “do you know of a safe place for Beatrix to spend the night?”
That was how he found himself, shortly afterward, sitting awkwardly in a tiny apartment as Beatrix and Miss Draden caught each other up. Beatrix explained that she’d tried to let Miss Draden know that she wouldn’t be leaving the test site with her. Miss Draden explained that she’d attempted to get back for a day and a half and finally, out of desperation, went to theStar.
He tried not to think about Miss Draden drugging him, screaming at him, very nearly killing him. Then Beatrix retreated to the bathroom, leaving him alone with his attempted murderer.
She looked him in the eye for the first time that evening. “I’m going to turn myself in. Over Garrett. How long do you think I should wait?”
He stared at her. “What?”
“If I do it now, I’ll throw a wrench into the investigation of my father, but maybe six months from now …?”
“Miss Draden?—”
“Knight. Please,” she said, voice cracking, “call me Ella Knight.”
“Miss Knight,” he amended, “what exactly are you proposing?”
“I’ll say I got into a drunken fight with Garrett and killed him.”
“After he went on the run? Presumably staying the heck away from this part of the country?”
“All right, maybe my confession needs work, but the question remains: When?”
