“That sounds good,” Sean says, ever the optimist.
I hesitate. “The database is extensive. But if this necromancer is as powerful as he has to be...”
“Or she,” Sean corrects.
“Orshe, it’s unlikely they’re reckless enough to leave any traces through the official channels. One slip-up and it would all be over.”
“So we’re dealing with the Moriarty of dead people magic,” Micah mutters.
Sadie blinks at him. “You’veread a book?”
Micah shrugs. “I like his little hat.”
Rowan rolls his eyes.
“We need a backup plan,” I say. “Something that doesn’t rely entirely on Vyse tracking this guy down.”
Micah nods. “Agreed. I don’t like relying on that weirdo.”
“A weirdo who apparently has the hots for Sadie.” Sean grins and I can practically see the lightbulb pop up over his head. Always a dangerous sign. “Maybe we can use that.”
Sadie’s death glare is so aggressive I’m surprised she doesn’t strain something. “I’m not seducing that psycho for intel, dumbass.”
“Why not? You’ve got the whole Morticia vibe going on. He’s clearly into it.”
“Because he’s a literal siren who can read minds and probably eats people for fun?” she challenges. “Hard pass.”
“Fair point.” Sean considers this for approximately half a second before shrugging. “Well, I’m sure as fuck not doing it. I’ve seen the way he eyes these guns.” He kisses his right bicep, then his left.
“Come on, man,” Micah complains. “Rowanjuststopped throwing up.”
“Hey, I can’t blame the guy,” Sean says, holding up his hands. “I’mverycharming. Especially with the eyepatch. Unfortunately for him, I’m as straight as the C’s on my transcript and I only have eyes for Regina. Um.Eye.”
He winks at me. With finger guns.
It’s… more charming than I’d like to admit, actually.
Micah squints. “If we’re using Sean as siren bait, I’m not really sure the eyepatch is going to work. I like the one with the studs better.”
“The studs are definitely an improvement,” Rowan agrees from his fainting couch.
Sean’s hand flies to cover his eyepatch. “The flames are sick and you’re both haters. And I said I’mnotgonna be siren bait!”
The bickering continues, with Killian half-heartedly attempting to referee, but I’m only partially listening. My brain is spinning through possibilities, discarding them almost as quickly as they form.
The remaining coven members are useless. Rowan is right, anyone who gets close to spilling useful information apparently turns into sludge. Kyle is gone, presumably taken by the same necromancer who raised the werewolf. And the necromancer himself is a ghost. No name, no face, no trail to follow.
Except the aforementioned sludge, if Vyse is as good at his job as he claims to be. Feels like a long shot.
But there might be one place we haven’t looked.
The thought is still forming when the door to the living room opens.
Villeneuve enters, and his presence shifts the atmosphere immediately. He looks more ominous than usual, which is saying something for a man who literally transforms into a dragon.
Sadie is on her feet before he’s fully through the doorway, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair.
“Gotta go,” she announces. “Big test in the morning. Very important. Very not here. I’ll show myself out.”
