“Not Hades.”
“Why not?”
“He’s too eager, and I’d prefer not to tempt him.”
“Are we actually concerned about ACPD now?”
“Not Hades,” Diamond repeats, and the other backs down. “We aren’t trying to draw attention here.”
Then Will speaks for the first time. “Bird in the rafters,” he says softly.
His voice is low and quiet, but it carries well, and the conversation around him pauses as if someone has switched the sound off. One moment Diamond is talking, and the next, she and her associate have turned their heads in the direction of where Sam is hiding.
Sam holds her breath and freezes, willing herself to disappear.
Will looks toward her. His gaze is like the sear of an iron; she finds herself sucking in her breath as if in pain. Then he steps up to the streetlamp and touches the pole with his fingers.
The dimness around the lamp suddenly dips into an inky black. The lamplight itself brightens, crackling, illuminating her.
Sam presses herself back against the wall and closes her eyes. Fear roils through her in a violent wave, making her dizzy. Did she really just witness that? How did he do it, make the light stronger? How did he know she was here? No one ever notices her. She hadn’t uttered a sound.
A shadow steps in front of her. She moves on instinct to flee, but it is too late. A large pair of hands closes around her arms, and suddenly she is dragged out of her hiding place and into the open. Everyone is looking at her now. Her eyes are wide and wild as the hands pull her toward where Diamond stands with her son, their gazes trained on her.
Diamond’s expression doesn’t change. She glances at one of her men.
“I thought you secured the area,” Diamond says to him.
The man shrugs nervously, unwilling to meet her gaze. “Maybe she was already there. Small thing.”
“How old are you?” Diamond asks Sam.
“Eighteen,” she says.
“You’re not eighteen. Answer me again.”
The authority in her voice is quiet and seasoned with age. Sam trembles all over. “Fifteen,” she whispers this time.
“What’s your name?”
“Samantha Lang,” she says, too afraid to lie again.
“And what did you hear, Samantha Lang?”
She stares up at Diamond’s imperial figure and shakes her head emphatically.
Beside Diamond, her son tucks his hands into his pockets and nods toward the side door.
“Someone might have sent her,” he says.
As soon as the words leave his mouth, those around Diamond shift their stances. Will sweeps his hand along the theater’s wall. And there, before Sam’s eyes, the bricks he touches crumble into nothing and re-form into a gun in his hand. He lets the weapon hang at his side.
Her heart hammers in confusion. It is the magic show inside the theater, except this time it is not a show at all. It is seeing the fork become thespoon, except this time it is a weapon that can kill her. She has the surreal sense of wading through one of her dreams, except here she can feel the wall hard against her back, the sweat trickling down her neck.
Alchemy.The word rings in her mind, impossible and glaring. But how can it be real?
Diamond gives her a pointed look. “What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I was just trying to stay out of people’s way,” Sam stammers.
