Already, the press corps was pushing in at the edges, frantic to get their stories, to get anything. Cops were everywhere, sirens were blaring in the street, and there was deafening shouting coming from all sides, all at once.

It was too early for official theories, but I thought I knew what we’d just witnessed. Cormorant was a veteran agent, a patriot, at least in his own mind. He’d waited for Teddy Vance to clear the building, then fired one lethal bullet, knowing he’d take kill shots in return. It was a suicide as much as an assassination—the last act in a bloody cover-up and, in Agent Cormorant’s own way, the last piece of damage control he could offer his president.

Chapter 113

SHAKEN AND EXHAUSTED, I got home around four thirty that morning, maybe the last of my vampire hours for a while. If Bree wasn’t already up, I was going to wake her and tell her what had happened—

But she wasn’t even there. Bree wasn’t anywhere in the house.

I realized this as soon as I saw Aunt Tia’s big knitting bag on the floor by the kitchen table. Tia had come to stay with the kids, and Saint Bree had gone to cover my overnight at the hospital. Of course she had. She wouldn’t have wanted Nana to be alone any more than I did.

I almost got back in the car, but it made more sense to spell Bree first thing in the morning and let Tia go home then. We were stretched thin as it was.

So I went upstairs and lay on top of the covers, wide awake and buzzing with everything that had happened, not just tonight but in the past few weeks. The scope of it all was going to reverberate for months, even years, I was sure. We still didn’t know how many others like Caroline there had been, and maybe never would. Nor did we know the extent of the cover-up for Zeus, or who had been doing the covering. Theodore Vance had been a successful and very rich businessman on his own. He’d had the resources to do whatever he wished or fantasized about. Apparently that’s exactly what he had done.

Later in the day, I’d have to call my sister-in-law, Michelle. I’d also have to decide how much of her daughter’s story I was going to tell her. Some of the details had no place in a mother’s memory. Sometimes I wonder about the place they have in mine.

It hadn’t been half an hour since I’d gotten home, if that, when the phone rang out in the hall.

I jumped up to catch it before a third ring. Considering the events of the past twenty-four hours, it might have been any number of people looking for me.

“Alex Cross,” I answered in a whisper.

And just like that, life changed again.

“Alex, it’s Zadie Mitchell calling from the hospital. How soon can you get over here?”