Zay just looked angry. “What do you expect us to do?” It came out with enough volume, I knew he was pissed. Long fuse didn’t mean the man never blew. “Do you want us to stand you out on a street corner with a sign?”
My shoulders tightened and I swallowed the need to yell back. Instead, I let a little silence soften the space between us, mostly so I could act calm. “Yes. I think something like that is a good idea. But we could be a little more subtle about it.”
“An ambush?” Terric mused. “It has merit.”
“No,” Zay said.
“I won’t be safe at Maeve’s,” I said for the millionth time. “Not really. It would just stall his attack.”
“No,” he said again.
I didn’t say anything. Neither did Terric.
I watched the city roll by and did my own share of controlling my urge to yell. Dad pushed at the backs of my eyes, not hard, but enough to annoy. Like I’d let down my guard now.
“I will do this, Zay,” I said. “If not today with you, Terric, Shame, and Chase, then sometime later, on my own. I’ll hunt him down. I’ll face him. I’ll make him pay for what he’s done. Do I think I’d be stronger with you there? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m not plenty strong enough on my own.”
“She’s right,” Terric said. “Let it go.”
Zay, that remarkable man, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. With it, he seemed to exhale his anger. It was probably one of the most amazing things I’d seen him do, and I’d seen him do a lot of amazing things. I sucked at letting go of anger. Maybe all that Zen training of his gave him a better control over his emotions.
Yeah, well, that and the fact he had to be calm and centered to work all disciplines of magic. Guardian of the Gates. There was no one else as good at wielding magic as he. And the Authority hung their hope of keeping magic in the right hands, and used in the right ways—for good and life, not for destruction and death—squarely across his broad shoulders.
A responsibility he bore without complaint.
“Call Maeve and let her know,” Zay said.
“I’ll do that.” Terric dialed.
I reached over for Zay’s hand, but he pulled away. He didn’t look at me, just straight ahead, as if driving suddenly took all his concentration.
“Maeve?” Terric said. “There’s been a slight change of plans.”
“You know I’m right,” I said while Terric talked.
“No. I don’t.” He pressed his lips together, as if he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it.
“Zay—”
“Are you wearing the void stone?” he asked. All business now. No emotion. Okay, he was still angry at me. Too bad.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to carry a weapon?” Flat.
“Of course I want weapons. Did you think I was going to take him on with my bare hands?”
“I don’t know what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking you might have a machete I can use.” I said sweetly.
“It’s in the trunk. We’re meeting Shame. You can get it then.”
Terric hung up. “Well, that was interesting. Your teacher does not approve of the change in plans, but she understands our point. She’s sending out some people to double-check Chapman Square.”
“She’s not going to throw me out of the Authority for this?” I asked.
“She is giving you one chance, until morning, to draw Greyson in. If he doesn’t show up, you are to be taken to Maeve’s, where you will be under constant observation, or you will be taken to your apartment, where you will be under constant observation.”
“Nice to know I have options.”
“You’re welcome to try to negotiate with Maeve if you want,” he offered.
Right. Shut up, Allie. This was as good as it was going to get. And if we did this right, if we were very lucky, we might be able to take care of this problem tonight.
A dizzy flux of magic washed through me again. I broke out in a cold sweat and wiped at the top of my lip. I glanced at Zay, but if he noticed, he didn’t show it. The storm was coming, rolling closer, messing with magic, messing with me. I knew tonight would be our best chance to take Greyson down.
Chapter Twelve
We drove to the meeting point, a twenty-four-hour diner and truck stop. Shame’s car was parked near the gravel back of the lot. Neither Shame nor Chase was beside the car. There wasn’t enough light