“And you say I’m paranoid.” Jim pointed in the direction of Christopher’s escape. “What about him?”

“He’s shattered. What’s your excuse?”

“I have to work with your ass. You’ve driven me crazy.”

I sighed. I could overrule Jim and go to the Conclave on my terms. But Jim and I had to work together. I could tell by the line of his jaw that he would die on this bridge if he had to. Going along with him cost me nothing, except a small chunk of pride, and pride was one of the things I didn’t mind sacrificing.

“What if we compromise?” I asked.

Jim looked at me for a long second. “They’re going to need sweaters in hell.”

Because me trying to be the voice of reason froze hell over. “Har har. You said they had vampires for backup. Let’s split our people in two. One group comes with us, the other waits as a backup. Put someone solid in charge of it, whoever you want, and have them wait nearby. Within running distance.”

Jim pondered that. “I pick both crews.”

I spread my arms. “Fine.”

“I can live with that. I’ll prepare a couple of exit strategies for you in case shit hits the fan. If I’m wrong, we lose nothing. If I’m right . . .”

“I hope you’re wrong.”

“I hope I’m wrong, too,” he said.

“Good. Then we’re done here.” I walked away from him, conquered the hallway, and started up the stairs. That was enough excitement for the day. If nobody did anything crazy, I could hide in our rooms and read . . .

Hannah, one of my and Curran’s guards, ran down the stairs.

Please don’t be for me, please don’t be for me . . .

“Consort!”

Damn it. “Yes.”

“There is a knight of the Order here to see you.”

What now? The Order of Merciful Aid served as a semiofficial law enforcement agency. Competent and efficient, but rigid in their thinking, they helped private citizens deal with their magic hazmat problems. Unfortunately, once you asked them for help they did it their way and not everyone liked it. I used to work for the Order. They decided shapeshifters weren’t people, I decided they were, and we went our separate ways. Ted Moynohan, the knight in charge, was still pissy about it.

“He has Ascanio and Julie with him. He says no charges will be filed.”

Why me?

• • •

I WALKED INTO the conference room ready to do battle. Ascanio sat in one chair, looking suitably guilty and regretful, and if I hadn’t worked with him for the last few months, I would even believe it. Julie sat across from him, slender, blond, and defiant. She had mostly passed through her Goth phase, but black was still her favorite color and I was treated to a lovely ensemble of black jeans, charcoal turtleneck, and piercing stare.