I rubbed my forehead. “There’s nothing to stop them from just walking around the edge.”
“Hmm.” He drummed his fingers on the wheel. “I hadn’t gotten that far.”
“This was your whole plan?”
“Yes, this is my hole plan, and it’s a great plan,” he protested. “It’s not like I had long to improvise.”
We climbed out as the first roach rustled past, and I threw up in my mouth a little. The way they ignored us, and the truck, inspired me to attempt what might save or damn Bishop’s half-cocked idea.
“Smythe,” I called. “Throw your speakers into the pit.”
The little man blustered and clutched them to his chest, but he got with the program when a golden gwyllgi padded out of the woods with a snarl on his lips. Eustice took great offense to Midas, but he cowered once Ford and Ares flanked their beta.
“There.” He threw the equipment into the pit. “Are you satisfied?”
The music stuttered and then stopped, and so did my heart. The fall had not been kind to the speakers. I had no clue how deep the pit was, but Bishop didn’t do things by half. I should have thought of that, but I was squicked out and panicking.
About to suggest we fire up the truck and push it into the pit too, I sagged with relief when thin strains of music filtered into the night air, ensnaring the roaches.
“Get ready.” Bishop pointed me toward the circle. “You’re going to power that beauty.”
Ambrose, who couldn’t care less about our roach rodeo, shook his head firmly.
“You don’t get a vote,” I warned him under my breath. “We need you.”
The shadow was not impressed, but he didn’t push back, and I saw why soon enough.
A blonde with crimson highlights and lipstick to match picked her way across the rough terrain.
Even without a heads-up from Remy, I pegged her as coven.
Ambrose all but licked his lips, game to be helpful all of a sudden.
He must think I was an idiot. Granted, I had summoned him and bonded to him, so he had good reason to question my mental faculties, but come on. He wanted to spend every last drop of magic in him so he could replenish himself off her. That alone told me she wasn’t a person I wanted to tangle with if I could avoid it.
“That’s the last roach.” Bishop shoved me. “Go set the circle.”
The gwyllgi were closing in, one loner caught between them, but it leapt into the pit as I watched.
“I’ll hold off the witchborn as long as I can.” He shoved me again. “Move it.”
I broke into a run and yanked on Ambrose’s mental leash until he awarded me his full attention.
“Salivate later.” I held my hand over the circle. “Power up now.”
Crystalized blood wasn’t a medium I had ever worked with, but I assumed if Bishop had signed off on it, he had every confidence it would work.
“Any time now,” I growled at Ambrose. “We need these bugs contained.”
With great reluctance, he pushed magic into the circle. It snapped closed around the bugs, trapping them under a dome. I really hoped Bishop had thought to line the sides and bottom, or they could dig out before we got to the raging-inferno portion of his plan.
Wobbling as I stood, I shook my head to clear it. Ambrose hadn’t been playing. He supercharged the circle, which was good for us, given the coven situation, but I tingled with the effects of his magical offload.
Midas bounded up to me and leaned his bulk against my thigh. I scratched his ears while my balance returned. I was no good to anyone if I fell over and had to be rescued. Or worse, if I gave the coven a hostage.
Bishop stood three feet from the blonde, and her eyes said she could have eaten him up with a spoon.
“I owe you a boon.” She wet her lips. “Lucas was skimming, and the coven frowns upon that. We had eyes on his partner, but we couldn’t locate him. He was too careful. You solved that problem for us. Let us solve this problem for you.”
“Problem?” He squinted at her. “Are you offering to solve yourself?”
I had caught the tail end of their conversation, and it sounded like more recruitment garbage. They must not know Bishop at all if they thought they could sway him to the dark side so easily. Screw cookies. Weapons of mass destruction were his delight.
“You’re wasting your talent,” she chided. “Why pretend you’re less when you’re so