“Ah-ha, so you were lighting it.”

“Of course, I was. I need all the practice I can get. Now, I’m going to work on my energy bolt. I’ll need a target, though.” I gave him a sidelong look.

He laughed. “I’d be a lot more worried if I thought you could hit anything smaller than a barn right now.” He took my shoulders and steered me to a fountain. “Does this look familiar?”

I squinted at it. Wooden benches and mossy rocks surrounded a round waterfall topped by two Cs carved in granite. Cortez Corporation.

“Oh, we’re here. I knew that. I was just getting some more air.”

“All the air in the world isn’t going to help you right now, Savannah.”

He helped me up the steps and into the foyer, then left me in front of the wall-sized aquarium of tropical fish. I stood there, mesmerized by the flashing rainbow of colors while Adam talked to the desk guard.

“Yes, they’re very pretty, aren’t they?” Adam said as he came up behind me.

“Is Lucas still here?”

“The guard says no, but from the looks he’s giving us, he’s ten seconds from calling for backup to escort us to a nice warm holding cell for the night. There’s no way he’s sending us up to see the heir to the throne. Not in our condition. Fortunately . . .”

He whipped out his security clearance pass at the same time as I pulled out mine. We both laughed. The guard at the desk buzzed someone and whispered into his phone.

“Don’t worry,” Adam said as we stumbled past the desk. “We’ve got our cards. Thanks for the assistance, though. I’ll be sure to let Mr. Cortez know how helpful you were.”

We got on the executive elevator before anyone could stop us. When we reached Lucas’s office, it was dark, his briefcase gone. There was a note for us on the desk, in Paige’s handwriting.

Left at midnight. If you two are much later, I’d suggest crashing in the lounge. Breakfast meeting at five thirty.

I checked my watch. It was past one.

“The lounge it is,” Adam said. “Flip you for the sofa.”

“Hell, no. I spent the night on a plane. I get the sofa.”

“Excuse me? I was up half the night researching that ritual for you. I deserve . . .”

We were still bickering when we reached the lounge and found . . .

“The sofa’s gone,” Adam said.

“It is? Good. I was starting to think I was even drunker than I feel.”

“Who the hell took the sofa?”

“I have no idea. When you find it, though, it’s all yours. I forfeit.”

I headed for the armchair. He lunged and we both scrambled for it. I made it there first and turned around to sit, but he jumped in behind me and I landed in his lap instead.

“Out,” I said.

“Uh-uh. I was here first. Either you go find the sofa or you get to sleep on my lap.”

I twisted, poking him with my elbows and hips.

“That’s not going to work,” he said. “I’m staying.”

I sighed and slouched in his lap. He shifted until he was comfortable, then leaned me back against him and put his arms around me. I squirmed until I had my knees pulled up, my chin resting on his shoulder.

“Feeling better?” he said.

“No, you have bony shoulders.”

“I mean, in general. Are you feeling better about everything?”

I nodded.

“Good.”

He smiled at me, and he was so close, I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips.

His hand moved up, and he touched my cheek, thumb caressing it.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” he said.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Really drunk?”

“I’m sleeping on your lap.”

He chuckled.

“Why? Are you worried I’ll puke on you?”

“Um, no.”

“Good, because I never puke.”

He laughed, his gaze dropping from mine. “Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Um, yeah. We established that.”

“I’m drunk, too.”

“Okay.” I paused. “Is this conversation going somewhere?”

“Apparently not. We’re both drunk so . . . Nope, it’s not going anywhere.”

He swept my hair off my shoulder, hesitated, then shook his head, faced forward, and tugged me tighter against him. I laid my head back on his shoulder, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.

thirty-four

I woke up with my butt vibrating. I’d probably have ignored it, except that for a moment, I thought Adam was rubbing my ass, which was enough to wake me up . . . only to realize it was my phone.

I slid from his lap and snuck out of the lounge. The number showed a pay phone from an area code I didn’t recognize. My sleepy brain tried to remember where Elena and Clay were, but there was no reason for them to call me in the middle of the night. It must be a contact of mine—Paige had gotten my old cell number transferred to my new phone.

I answered with a wary “Hello?”

“Savannah?” Male voice. No one I recognized.

“Yes.”

“It’s me.” A faint cough, muffled, like he’d covered his mouth. The voice was strained and raspy. “Bryce.” Then as if that might not be enough, “Bryce Nast. Your, uh, brother.”

My hand tightened around the phone. “Bryce? Where are you? What—?”

“I’ll explain later. I—” A wheeze, then a cough. “You offered to help me. You’ve probably changed your mind by now, but I . . . I don’t know who else to call.”

As he spoke, the initial jolt over hearing from him faded. Bryce calls me in the middle of the night? Asks for help? From a pay phone? With his voice too distorted to recognize?

“You don’t sound like yourself,” I said.

“Yeah, I’ve”—another sniff—“I’ve got something. A bug.”

“You were fine when I saw you yesterday. And where’d you get this number?”

“I have my cell phone here, but I can’t get a signal. They’ve done something to it—” He paused. “You don’t think it’s me. Can’t blame you.” He swallowed, loudly, as if it hurt. “Okay, umm, last year for your birthday, Sean got you a new saddle. Imported it from Germany. At Christmas you guys went riding in Colorado. You, Adam, Sean, and the guy he was seeing.”