“Thanks for the heads-up on everything,” I said. My mind wheeled in endless circles, leaving me with more questions than answers. And the answers that I did have were pretty shitty.
Gideon nodded, his mouth quirking slightly as if he were trying to fight a smile. “I have to go. It’s dangerous to be around and not try to kill you.”
“You’re not the only one who feels that way,” I grumbled, glaring at the ground.
“But … I could use a favor,” he said. He wet his lips, hesitating as if he was afraid I would instantly turn him down. That or he simply didn’t want to feel like he needed me for something. “Find out who cursed Sofie.”
“That was a long time ago.”
Some of the tension eased from his face. “Afraid she forgot?”
“Not likely. You thinking of helping her?”
Gideon remained silent so long, staring off in the distance, that I thought he might not answer me. But when he spoke, my stomach knotted in pain for the man who wasn’t my friend but was. “I thought if Sofie were human again, she might like to take on an apprentice. If I remember correctly, she had a gentle way with children.”
My mouth fell open and some part of me wanted to say something comforting, but there weren’t any words. Gideon must have known, because he stiffly nodded to me and disappeared. I leaned my head back against the roof of Bronx’s car and closed my eyes. Poor Gideon.
“I’ll admit that I didn’t understand a lot of what you were talking about,” Bronx said, drawing my eyes open again. “But that part about Sofie … why is he interested in her? Is he trying to get her to go back to the Towers as a spy?”
“No,” I said, straightening. “Let’s get out of here. Now that he’s gone, I’m sure the cops will want to descend on the house.”
Bronx nodded and punched his key remote to unlock the doors. We got the hell out of there, letting me sink into silence for a minute and get lost in the rambling thoughts.
The Ivory Towers were the ultimate rulers of this world, deciding life and death (well, mostly death) for its inhabitants, but when they weren’t around, the cops tried to maintain some semblance of peace. The fix maker’s death would be chalked up to a DBW—death by warlock/witch and the book would be closed. Naturally, they would search the house and find the drug-manufacturing equipment. The house would be confiscated, but I knew better than to hope that it would be tied back to Reave. He was too smart for that.
It wasn’t until we reached the highway that I felt some of the tension that was threatening to choke me start to ease. Bronx didn’t turn on the radio and I was content to listen to the sound of the car cruising down the smooth concrete while the streetlamps flashed overhead. As dire as my own situation was becoming, I found my thoughts centering on Gideon and his young daughter. She would be turning seven soon.
“You asked about Sofie,” I started, and then stopped. Bronx patiently waited while I attempted to organize my thoughts. It wasn’t so much that I was trying to censor myself, but that it was simply better if he didn’t know certain things. Swearing softly, I reached up and touched the ceiling of the car while whispering a quick word, creating a protective bubble over the car so no one could magically overhear me. Damn, I was getting paranoid.
“Gideon has a daughter,” I confessed after another lengthy silence.
“Is that a bad thing?”
A smile quirked the corners of my mouth. “Witches and warlocks aren’t permitted to marry or have children. It’s seen as a weakness and a liability.”
“What does Gideon’s daughter have to do with Sofie?”
“His daughter has either exhibited some magical talent or he’s afraid she will. If so, she has to be trained, and he can’t send her to the Towers. They would know in a heartbeat that she was his daughter.”
“And Gideon, his daughter, and eventually his wife would be killed,” Bronx concluded.
“Yes.”
“But if Sofie was changed back to human, would she stay here or would she rather return to the Towers?”
I stared out the passenger-side window and frowned. “I don’t know.”
I had known Sofie in human form only briefly while I was living at the Ivory Towers during my apprenticeship to Simon Thorn. She had been nice and motherly, albeit a little meddlesome. Somewhere along the way she had run afoul of a witch or warlock, and had been turned into a big Russian-blue cat. As far as I knew, she couldn’t return to human form until the person who cursed her died. After spending several years as the pet of an elderly woman, she was now living fat and sassy with Trixie.
Unlike Gideon, Sofie gave no indication that she didn’t approve of how things ran in the Ivory Towers. The only reason she had left was that she felt more vulnerable in cat form. Her ability to use magic had been severely limited. I feared that if Sofie were human again, she would happily return to the Towers, which would be of no help to Gideon and his daughter.
There wasn’t much I agreed with when it came to the beliefs of the witches and warlocks of the Ivory Towers, but I thought they were right when it came to training all human children who possessed magical talent. It was for the children’s protection and those around them as much as it was about spreading knowledge. An untrained child who could unconsciously tap magical energy was a serious danger. In moments of fear or anger, people died around the child without the child intending it to happen.
Gideon knew that. If Sofie couldn’t train his daughter, he had few options. He couldn’t do it himself without risking others finding out. Training was an intensive, full-time gig and Gideon was already working for the council as a guardian. But if Bridgette wasn’t trained, she’d have to be killed.
I closed my eyes against the ugly thought but it was still there. For a brief second I thought that I could at least teach her a few basic things about control and protection, but I crushed the thought before it fully formed. What the fuck did I know about caring for a seven-year-old girl? I was an outcast former warlock-in-training now a tattoo artist who moonlighted nights doing odd jobs for the local mob. Not a great role model. Sofie was the best choice. I’d have to convince her of it.
“As much as I hate to ask after all the fun we’ve had tonight,” I started, shoving my thoughts back to my most immediate problem, “but what are the chances that Reave doesn’t know about tonight’s events?”
“Oh, he knows,” Bronx said as he took the exit ramp off the highway. “He definitely knows by now.”
“Retribution?”
“Oh, yeah. Expect pain.”
I leaned my head to the side, hitting it against the window. It was my fault. Bronx had nothing to do with my decision to free the pixies but I knew that Reave would punish him along with me. “Damn it! I’m sorry.”
“For what? The pixies?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No.”
“Then don’t apologize,” Bronx said. He slowed the car to a stop at a red light and glanced over at me. “You saved lives tonight, and if you didn’t do something, I would have.”
“Thanks.”
He shrugged. “It’s been a rough night. You want me to drop you at Trixie’s?”
“You think it’s safe?”
“Reave’s going to need time to realign his distribution network after tonight’s escapade. We’ve got a day or two. Besides, I’m