pawn. You must have wondered several times if I was placing you as bait, or if I cared at all.”

Wow. Uncomfortable, especially since he was right. And my mouth, so used to coming up with

smartass at other times, completely failed me now. “I, well. Um.”

“I didn’t know you existed until your father called me. Augustine never told anyone either.”

August. He’d vanished after verifying Christophe was a part of the Order. It was August vouching

for Christophe over the phone that made me trust him the first time around. “Why would he call—”

“He didn’t know who to trust. I was under suspicion and . . . well, there are other reasons.” Taller

than me and looking down, His hands hung empty and graceful at his sides. “Your mother, she always wanted a normal life. She was a . . . gentle soul.” He made a slight noise, clearing his throat as

if embarrassed. “We are not often gentle souls.”

The starch threatened to go out of my legs. I backed up, found the bed by running into it, and sat

down so hard my teeth clicked together.

Christophe continued, choosing each word carefully. “I don’t know how your father found me. It

was a surprise, especially since the last time I spoke with him things did not, um. They did not go

well.” He touched the silver dome over what was probably a plate of breakfast. “At all.”

He found you the way we always found stuff out—in spooky little occult stores and other places I

pointed him at. Maybe you’re what he was looking for all along. I lifted the paper cup to my mouth.

Paused halfway because he seemed to have run out of words. “What happened?”

His head dropped forward, as if he was praying.

Gran had been big on prayers. Only hers were a little off the beaten path. She talked to God like

some people talk to a psychologist. When she wasn’t telling him how things could’ve been done a

little more efficiently, but then, He was God and she was just an old lady and what did she know,

eh?

I’m thinking God was in for a hell of a surprise when Gran showed up at the pearly gates.

“I found her. She left the Schola, left everything. Took one small suitcase. She wouldn’t tell me

why, and I don’t think she really thought she could hide from me. Them, yes. Me? No. Not me.” A

deep breath, his shoulders coming up as if under a burden. “When I found what she’d settled for . . .

I was furious. Threatened him. But I never meant anything by it, Dru, I swear. She loved him; I

could not hurt her by taking that away. She’d already had so much taken. She saw her parents die.

Did you know?”