of MII. If I helped her, I would be putting all of us in danger.
But she was a friend. She’d kept us all from dying at Nevada’s wedding, and when I looked at her, my chest hurt.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I told her. “We have more than enough guest bedrooms and if you don’t want to be alone, you can crash on the media room couch. Someone’s always in the media room.”
She stared at me.
“It’s a very special couch,” I told her. “Mad Rogan once fell asleep on it. We’re thinking of having it gold-plated and donated to a museum . . .”
Runa’s composure broke like a glass mask and she cried.
I got up, took away her hot chocolate before she sloshed it all over herself, and hugged her.
Morning came far too fast. Normally I got up at 7:00 a.m., but Ragnar didn’t finish draining until a little past 4:00 a.m., and when my alarm blared, I turned it off and slept for another hour. That proved to be a mistake. I had a nightmare and woke up scared out of my mind. When I finally made it downstairs, bleary-eyed and carrying my laptop, Mom, Grandma Frida, and Bern were already there, finishing their breakfast. Grandma gave me a zombie look from above the rim of her coffee mug. Neither one of us did well with little sleep.
I landed in my chair. Mom put a cup of tea in front of me and I drank it. It was so hot, it made the roof of my mouth wrinkle, but I didn’t care.
“Easy there,” Bern said.
“Let me have my drug.” I drank more tea. “Mmm, caffeine. So delicious. Where is everybody?”
“Leon left last night to close the Yarrow case,” Bern said. “Arabella has an appointment with Winter, Ltd.”
“Let me guess, they still haven’t paid us?”
“Yep.”
Occasionally, clients were slow to pay. We reminded them once, then a second time, and then we sent my sister in an Armani suit, armed with her laptop. None of us had any idea what she said, but the payment usually arrived within twenty-four hours.
My phone chimed. A text message from Nevada. Landed safe. Everything ok?
I texted back. Everything is great. Selfie or it didn’t happen.
“They landed in Barcelona. They’re okay.” I couldn’t keep the relief out of my voice.
Bern raised his tawny eyebrows. “You do realize that you’re more likely to die in a car going to the airport than to get into a plane crash?”
“Yes, but I can influence the outcome of my car ride. I can drive myself or hire a driver. I can choose the type of car and the route. I can’t influence the plane.”
When Bern boarded a plane, he relaxed in his seat and looked out the window, because “Woo, technology.” When I got on a plane, I calculated my odds.
My phone chimed again. My sister stood against a backdrop of green mountains, smiling, her big brown eyes laughing. She was beautiful, with a golden tan and blond hair the color of light honey. Next to her Connor Rogan loomed; huge, muscular, dark-haired, his blue eyes piercing in contrast to his bronze skin. He was smiling too, a genuine warm smile. Looking at them made me so happy. I could almost feel Spain’s sunshine.
“About the Ettersons,” Bern said.
I sighed and opened my laptop. Bern had sent me an email titled “Etterson.” I clicked it.
House Etterson:
Sigourney Etterson, Prime Venenata, 50, single;
Runa Etterson, Prime Venenata, 22, single;
Halle Etterson, Prime Venenata, 17, single;
Ragnar Etterson, Prime Venenata, 15, single.
James Tolbert, Significant, purifier, 52, ex-husband and father of the children; whereabouts unknown.
As I thought. Both Runa’s mother and her siblings were Primes.
No known House alliances. Estimated worth: $8 million.
In the sea of Houston’s elite, the Ettersons were a relatively small fish and they swam by themselves. No strong ties to other Houses, no patrons of great influence. It wasn’t unusual. Many smaller Houses preferred to operate independently, unattached to a larger family. Powerful Houses had powerful enemies, and when you allied yourself to one, you inherited their friends and their rivals.
Bern took a slow swallow of his coffee. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me. “Our grace period runs out tomorrow. I don’t need to remind you of the statistics.”
He didn’t. I could rattle the numbers off the top of my head. Ever since the invention of the Osiris serum over a century ago, magic and power became synonymous and intrinsically linked. Arcane talent was hereditary; those who had it bred to keep it, and