“So they’re treating her the way they used to treat you, and she doesn’t like it,” he said. “And instead of calling them out, or having the guts to walk away herself, she wants you to come back and be their whipping boy instead.”
“It’s not like that,” Sam protested.
“Then what is it like?”
Sam didn’t have an answer. Alistair sighed and straightened. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s get comfortable on the couch and see if we can get some sleep.”
Sam waited until Alistair was asleep before slipping off the couch and letting himself out onto the sleeping porch.
He’d forgotten to get their pajamas out of the bedroom before Opal went to bed, so they’d ended up sleeping in their clothes. His sweater gave him some protection from the October chill; though the sleeping porch’s windows were shut, there was no heat in the little area. No bed, either; they’d dragged the original one inside to replace the bed Eldon was murdered in.
He wandered to one of the many windows and looked out into darkness. They were in a patch of small homes rapidly being overtaken by tall apartment buildings, but the neighborhood was still a quiet one for the most part. No lights showed from the other houses, so there was only the dimmest glow from the streetlights out front.
At least Opal had agreed to stay in a hotel. He’d advise her to look outside of Towertown, play up its reputation as a den of iniquity if he had to. Give her some spending money if she wanted to shop, though what excuse she’d use if she returned to Gatesville with a fur coat to match Aunt Flora’s, he didn’t know. Nothing mattered, so long as she got out of Chicago safe and sound.
Because he could fix things now.
The realization had crashed down on him just as Alistair let himself in, and it had been everything he could do to keep it off his face.
Then, as they arranged the couch in an attempt to make it a comfortable place for two people to sleep, Alistair told him Sullivan was calling in his chips. The Gattis would have to work directly for him now, standing guard at the hexworks.
He was the one who’d dragged them into this by getting involved with Sullivan. But now he had a way to get them out.
Jake’s death had been his original sin. Opal didn’t know it, but he’d compounded that sin a hundred times over when he refused to use the panacea hex to save Mom.
But now, if the hex on the Aten Disc worked the way Doc thought…
He could undo his worst mistakes. Bring back not only Mom, but Jake as well. Restore his family to wholeness. Make them happy at last.
He couldn’t tell Alistair about the hex. Even if he could have, he wouldn’t, because from what Doc said it would take a lot of familiars to power it.
He couldn’t command that much magic. But he knew someone who could. Someone who would probably agree to anything to resurrect his own dead.
It was time to go to Sullivan and make a deal.
19
Alistair woke up with a crick in his neck and Opal talking far too loudly. The smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee filled the air, so he heaved himself up and went to the kitchen. Sam was busy cooking breakfast, bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, while his sister said, “I don’t know, what if I need something?”
“I’ll give you our phone number, don’t worry.” He looked up and saw Alistair. “Oh! You know the Loop better than I do—is there a hotel you’d recommend for Opal?”
Opal’s expression suggested she’d rather sleep on a bed of nails than anywhere a familiar recommended. Alistair briefly considered sending her to the worst dump he could think of…but that would only cause more trouble for Sam.
“Hotel Ochoa,” he said after thinking for a minute. “They have a good restaurant—I’ve eaten there a couple of times, when Wanda had some business down that way. Judging by the lobby and the food, it’s a classy place.”
Opal frowned suspiciously, then turned to Sam. “What if I don’t like it?”
Fur and feathers, couldn’t she do anything herself? “Then have the bellhop call you a taxi and go somewhere else.”
“What Alistair said.” Sam portioned out breakfast onto three plates. “I’ll give you extra cash for taxis, or a new dress, or whatever you want.”
She seemed slightly mollified. “I can’t get anything too fancy, it’ll raise questions back home.”
“I’m sure you know best,” Sam said placatingly.
There were few things Alistair wanted to do less than have breakfast with anyone from Sam’s terrible family. Unfortunately, one of those things awaited him as soon as they were done eating and got Opal bundled into a taxi on the way to her hotel.
Paladino showed up about ten minutes after the taxi left, driving a sleek new Packard with black paint. The thing looked like it could really move if it needed to—Alistair was pretty sure the model had eight cylinders under the hood—which was good if anyone tried to intercept them on the way.
