Proof of Life (The Potentate of Atlanta #4) - Hailey Edwards Page 0,44

hate to agree with her,” Bishop called, still in the hall, “but she’s right. This person must have been embedded before the shit hit the fan. Otherwise, we would have noticed the wrongness, or smelled it.”

“The practitioner must have sworn off magic for the duration of the operation to avoid a gwyllgi nose outing them,” Linus agreed. “That level of discipline would require a master of the art, or the flipside of the coin. A neophyte without an established magical signature who embraced abstinence to ensure they read as clean.”

“A newbie would explain the sloppy bombs.” Bishop grunted. “The longer you avoid using your magic, the weaker it grows.”

“Inexperience could be the mitigating factor,” Linus added in support of their working theory. “A newbie isn’t as likely to get complex magics right on the first try. As Bishop said, it would explain why the first bomb failed to detonate.”

Luck was all that had spared Hadley, and it terrified Midas to know hers could run out at any moment.

“Our trap won’t work now.” Hadley stared toward the door. “No one would believe it after this.”

“Trap?” Midas rumbled. “What trap?”

“Bishop and I were tossing around the idea of setting up another date night to lure out the bomber.”

Grinding his molars, Midas kept from stomping out and strangling Bishop with his own tongue.

“Murder thoughts,” Hadley singsonged. “He was right to stay in the hall.”

“The date idea won’t fly,” Grier cut in, “but a wake might work.”

“That would put others in danger.” Hadley sliced her hand through the air. “The whole date angle was so the bomber wouldn’t think it was odd if only Midas and I showed.”

“Not many people in Atlanta know Boaz, Addie, or their parents well. We could pick and choose who got invites.” Grier drummed her fingers on her arm. “We could keep the gathering small to limit the risks.”

“We can’t protect them.” Hadley shook her head. “I won’t endanger more people.”

“Let me handle that.” Grier and Linus shared a glance that spoke volumes. “I can keep them safe.”

“You’re sure?” Hadley bit her lip. “Of course you’re sure.”

“You’re fine.” Grier lifted a shoulder. “We haven’t spent much time together since…everything happened…so you’re right to ask. If we were in my city, talking these stakes with my people, I would do the same.”

Drawing him back into the conversation, Hadley rubbed Midas’s arm. “What do you think?”

“It’s a good idea.” Though he hated admitting it. “It could work.”

“You’re not on board.” She read him too easily. “We’re going to have to trust Grier can deliver.”

“She can,” Linus promised, draping an arm across her shoulders. “She wouldn’t offer otherwise.”

“I’m not doing this without you.” Hadley fisted Midas’s shirt. “We can find another way.”

“I trust them.” He exhaled through his teeth. “It’s hard where you’re concerned, but I do.”

“Before we get into specifics, we’re going to need to test each of you.” Hadley broke away from him. “Bishop, do you still have the kit?”

“Yup.” He stepped into the doorway, tossed her a bag, then retreated. “Lancets are in the side pouch.”

“I must have missed a memo.” Grier glanced from her to Midas. “What are we testing for?”

“Abbott and Reece, with help from Doughty,” Hadley informed them, “developed a rudimentary test to determine if a person has become a host to a Martian Roach or if their skin is being worn by the coven.”

Blinking at Hadley, who tossed the bag to Midas, Grier cleared her throat. “A what now?”

“The parasitic roaches I mentioned,” Linus murmured. “Hadley nicknamed them Martian Roaches.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Grier smothered a grin. “As in The Martian Roaches Who Invaded Atlanta?”

The dip in Hadley’s chin at the gentle teasing kicked Midas’s protective instincts up a notch.

Hadley was so…Hadley. She was more comfortable in her own skin than anyone he knew, and he hated how the collision of her past with her present rattled her, diminished her, made her think twice before speaking or acting when one of the things he loved most about her was her spirit.

“I’ll administer the tests,” his mother offered. “You look like you would enjoy pricking them too much.”

Since Midas didn’t disagree, he stepped back to give her room and volunteered as her first victim. “Where are Hood and Eva?”

“Lethe left them at home.” She used an alcohol wipe to clean his fingertip. “Their pack is too young to run smoothly without either of their alphas present, so Hood stayed behind. Neither of them wanted Eva involved in this mess, and I can’t say I blame