Adam was Sam’s partner, and a vampire to boot. I’d met him only a couple of times, but he seemed pretty decent. He’d certainly been a whole lot less frosty toward me than Sam had been in the early days of the investigation.

“But Rinaldo’s an extremely powerful telepath—one capable of entirely taking over mind and body,” I said. “Will Adam have the telepathic strength to counter that? Because I rather suspect Rinaldo will kill Frederick rather than risk him telling us anything.”

“I doubt Rinaldo will waste such a valuable resource—”

“Don’t doubt,” Jackson said as he clattered up the metal steps. “He would discard anything and anyone, no matter how valuable, if it suited him.”

“Perhaps.” Sam’s tone suggested he didn’t agree.

Jackson kicked the door open, then strode into the old pump room. It was as I’d left it, only the dust had had a chance to settle. “How do you want to play this, Turner?”

“Once we get Frederick securely tied to the table, we’ll all retreat back to the sewers except for Emberly and Adam.”

Jackson frowned. “What about the possibility of him using magic?”

“He’s a dark witch and, from what I understand, they not only need some sort of blood sacrifice to create their spells, but also their Athame,” Sam said.

“I wouldn’t be sure about that,” I said. “If Frederick’s a thrall, he could be far older than he looks. Older witches often don’t need ceremonial devices. They just need the power of their thoughts and their soul to create a spell, especially if it’s only a simple one such as forcing his will on another.”

“I know someone who’d be able to tell us.” Jackson carefully placed me on my feet near the table; then, as the sound of footsteps coming up the metal stairs began to echo, he got out his phone and made a call.

“Grace, sorry about the late hour, but I have a rather urgent question for you.” He paused for a moment, listening, and then added, “Yeah, we did find the dark witch. But we need to question him, and we want to know if he can use magic against us using just his thoughts and will.”

He paused again, listening. His expression suggested the answer wasn’t one he wanted. “Right. Thanks, Grace.”

He hung up and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Em’s right. He’ll more than likely be able to perform at least minor magic against us. However, she said if we use some form of hallucinogenic drug, it should impair his mind enough to stop that.”

“No matter what either of you think of PIT,” Sam said, his voice dry, “we generally don’t carry any sort of drugs around with us.”