A little device taped to his side—that’s what would stop him. It was a modified insulin pump, intended for diabetics. It even contained insulin. So if Jaz was searched, it would seem legit—Scott wasn’t the kind of guy who’d have gone around telling people he was diabetic. But this pump was controlled by a remote, which could dump insulin into Jaz, putting him into a coma.

It was a wickedly clever, diabolical idea. Naturally I presumed it was Benicio’s. Turned out it came from Lucas. Proof that as morally upright as he may be, Lucas does have Cortez blood running through his veins.

When everything was ready, we got into an old Mercedes the team had bought at the nearest used-car lot. Jaz drove. Adam and I squeezed into the trunk.

Any other time, I’m sure being curled up together in a trunk would have been deliciously tempting. But we were both too stressed to even joke about it. We spent the short trip testing our communication equipment, which fed to each other, to Jaz, and back to Lucas.

It was only about a mile to the compound gates, but it seemed to take an hour, rumbling along the dirt road. Finally, through the mike we heard Jaz power down his window.

“Hello there, boys,” he said. “I bet you didn’t think you’d be seeing my handsome face again, did you?”

“Mr. Scott,” a young man’s voice replied. “We didn’t know you were coming.”

“No one does, and I trust you’ll keep my little secret a few minutes longer? I want to see the old boy’s face when I show up.”

“Yes, sir. Absolutely, sir. He’ll be very pleased.”

“I’m sure he will,” Jaz said in Scott’s smug voice. “Now, if you’ll open the garage and let me park this beauty …”

They did. Through his open window, we heard the outside guards radio the inside ones to say that Gordon Scott had arrived and it was a surprise for Giles. Then Jaz rolled the Mercedes inside.

“Hello, boys,” Jaz said, when we were in.

“Hello, sir. You can park right by the van over there.”

We knew from my parents’ surveillance that one van was parked in the garage, with an open space on the far side. The plan was for Jaz to back the Mercedes into that space so we could hop out, hidden by the van.

“Well, now, boys,” Jaz said. “I was hoping I could leave her right here, where you two can keep an eye on her.”

I stiffened. Adam clamped a hand over my mouth before I could say anything.

“Um, I’m not sure, sir …” One guard said.

“Oh, I’m just joshing you, boy. I’ll park her over there by the van.”

We waited as he backed it in. Then we cracked open the trunk and confirmed that he’d parked in the right spot.

“Bastard,” I whispered.

“Get used to it,” Adam said. “He’s going to have some fun with us.”

As if on cue, we heard Jaz call to the guards. “Hey, boys, do you think you could grab my suitcase out of the trunk?” He waited a beat, then said, “Oh, no, wait. It’s here in the backseat.”

“Now that he’s got us in, we can kill him, right?” I whispered.

“I wish. Just remember, he’s hooked up to a death machine. We go down, he goes down.”

Which would be a lot more reassuring if we were dealing with a sane man. Knowing Hope was finally within his grasp might be the only thing that kept Jaz from deciding to commit suicide by Cabal and take us along for kicks.

I peeked out of the trunk. Jaz stood there, watching me. I waved for him to look around and give the all clear. He pretended not to understand.

I considered a sensing spell. After all, I was supposed to have my full powers back. Yet I paused before casting, and when I did, I caught the murmur of the guards’ voices at a distance. I waved Adam out.

I cast a cover spell on Adam first, to be sure it worked. Aratron said the antimagic ward had only been cast around the perimeter, and Mom’s tests supported that, but we needed to be sure. When Adam did disappear, I cast a cover spell on myself.

Then Jaz called, “Actually, I do need help with something in the trunk. Can one of you give me a hand?”

When the guard came, Jaz stuck to the script, leading him to the trunk. “Can you get that for me?”

“Get what?”

The guard leaned into the trunk, squinting to see in the dim light. I cast a binding spell. I was so accustomed to having them fail that I’d already begun a second before I realized the first had worked. Adam injected the guard with a sedative while I held the spell. Then we got him into the trunk. The guy weighed well over two hundred, most of it fat. This was where werewolf strength would have come in handy. Jaz sure as hell wasn’t about to help. As we loaded the guard into the trunk, his boot clunked against the side.

“You need help?” the second guard called.

Jaz could have said, no, we were fine. But he just stood there. I zapped the second guard with a binding spell as he came around the car. We sedated him, too. Then we stripped both of their uniforms, bound and gagged them, and left them in the trunk, out cold.

Adam walked over to Jaz. He was a few inches taller and about thirty pounds heavier, but Jaz didn’t flinch, just stood there, smirking.

“You think it’s funny to mess with us?” Adam said.

“Actually, yes.”

“Do you know what my power is?”

“Do I care?”

Adam took the car keys from Jaz. He gripped them in his hand. When he opened it, metal dust spilled onto the ground.

“It works with people, too,” he said. “Especially useful for body parts. Amputates, cauterizes, and destroys the evidence all in one shot. If you screw with us again, Jasper, I’m starting with your fingers.” He paused. “Or maybe a small body part that you won’t be needing anytime soon.”

I made a show of turning off my mike and motioning for Adam to do the same. Then I lowered my voice. “Look. We aren’t here to fight you, Jaz. If you do this and you get away, that’s not my concern. I’m here because I need a cure for my brother. You had a brother, right?”

For the first time since he’d stepped off the jet, genuine emotion flashed across his face. Grief, rage, and pain, quickly reined in.

“Karl killed him, I know,” I said. “Believe me, I have no love for that jerk. But I do love my brother. He’s all that matters to me here.”