“You’re presuming that little bubble of yours will actually stop me. That could be a big mistake.”

“It stopped you in Brooklyn when it was protecting Luke—at least until he foolishly stepped on metal—and that spell had half the strength of this. But by all means, test away.”

I didn’t, if only because he wanted me to.

“However,” he continued, “all that is an aside, and it does not change the purpose of this meeting.”

“Why are you delivering the message?” I said. “Why isn’t your boss here?”

“Who says he isn’t?”

I resisted the urge to look around me. “Because while Rinaldo may be many things, stupid isn’t one of them. He wouldn’t risk appearing when you cannot absolutely guarantee your magic will restrain my flames.”

“True, especially since he can be present without being here physically.”

“What is it with witches speaking in goddamn riddles?” Jackson growled. “Tell us what he wants, and then get the fuck on with whatever else is planned.”

“He wants De Luca’s notes when you find them, and he wants the satchel notes you found—”

“He could have already had those,” I cut in. “He just needed to get to our office before the sindicati.”

“Yes, except that was nothing more than a trap. As you said, he is not stupid.” The amusement was stronger this time. “You have twenty-four hours to provide those notes.”

“Or what?” Jackson said.

“Or,” the witch said blithely, “we will unleash red plague hell on this city.”

CHAPTER 3

Jackson snorted. “I do so love dramatic statements, especially when the person behind them can’t back them up.”

“Which is a reasonable enough presumption, given you are not in possession of all the pertinent facts.” Once again, Frederick’s voice was annoyingly smug.

I had to clench my fists against the desire to batter his shield with flame. “How about getting to the point if you actually have one? We’ve got other things we need to be doing.”

“That is indeed true,” Frederick said, and then added in a flat tone, “We control the cloaks. If you don’t do as we want, they’ll swarm into this city and infect as many people as possible.”

“Luke was the only one who could control the cloaks,” Jackson said, “and he’s dead.”

“Luke is certainly dead,” the witch replied, “but the rest of that sentence doesn’t really apply. Luke, I’m afraid, was always destined to burn bright and die fast. He was neither a good strategist nor planner.”

With that, I had to agree. “None of which negates the fact that if the infected didn’t swarm when he died, they’re unlikely to do it now.”