Eve shook her head, a tiny spasm that was probably involuntary. Even Shane looked like he thought it was a terminally bad idea. Claire said, “We can trust him. We have to trust him.”

“Oh, this sounds interesting,” Myrnin said, and leaned forward in Michael’s chair. “Please continue.”

She did. She even brought down one of the wireless cameras, showed it to him, and explained how it worked, which was a complete delight to his obsessively scientific side. “But this is amazing,” he said, turning the little device over in his nimble fingers. “This girl, she’s quite the enterprising little thing. How many of these, you say?”

“We think seventy-two.”

He lost his smile, focused on the object in his hand. “She can’t be doing it alone, then. There must be a larger purpose. A larger plan. Still, this Kim, she may be using it for her own purposes; have you thought about that?”

“We know she’s getting her own thing out of it,” Claire said. “But you’re saying . . . she didn’t come up with it in the first place?”

“Exactly.”

So, maybe Kim had been recruited to put cameras out, and then hijacked it for her own reality-show dream project . . . but that meant someone else was in charge.

Someone smart enough to not get caught. Or even suspected.

“You really should tell Oliver,” Myrnin said. “I know he’s not the most pleasant of allies, but he is effective in the right circumstances. Rather like one of those nuclear bombs.”

“If we tell Oliver, Kim’s dead,” Eve said. “She may be an epic bitch, but I don’t want her executed, either.”

“Valid,” Myrnin agreed. “However, if this goes wrong, she’s dead in any case. I will come along. You need an adult chaperone.”

“Once again, bunny slippers,” Shane said. “I’m just pointing that out.”

“I suppose they would get dirty. I’ll be right back.” Myrnin jumped out of the chair and dashed for the portal. It snapped shut behind him with a flare of energy.

“Do you think—”

Before Shane could finish the question, the portal opened again, and Myrnin hopped out on one foot, pulling on serious pirate boots, the knee-high kind with the cuff of leather. He finished tugging the left one on and did a runway pose for Claire. “Better?”

“Um . . . yeah. I guess.” He now looked like a demented version of that pirate captain from the rum bottles.

“Then let’s go.”

As he turned to concentrate on the portal, Eve tugged on Claire’s shirt.

“What?”

“Ask him where he got the boots.”

“You ask.” Personally, Claire wanted the vampire bunny slippers.

Chapter 12

12

The closest Myrnin could get them was a few blocks away. Claire was glad, actually, that he hadn’t warned her where they were going; she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to step through if he had.