“You’ve seen me fight,” I said. “I can’t explain to you why now, because it’s complicated and we’re being listened to, but I say this with every ounce of credibility I have: he is extremely dangerous. He has the means and ability to murder every person in this room and he will do it without any hesitation. Do not underestimate him.”

If these creatures we fought were indeed lamassu, Roland would know about them. He could even have used them, which meant Hugh could use them as well. I had no idea to what end. But I would find out.

* * *

The meeting done, Raphael, Andrea, and I walked to Desandra’s room. They would start their shift and I wanted to check in on Desandra.

“I was thinking,” Andrea said.

“That’s a dangerous habit.”

“I keep telling her that,” Raphael said.

“Oh, you two are a riot. Anyway, I was thinking we should squeeze Desandra dry. She knows both clans. She has to have some idea what’s going on.”

“Think she can handle it?” Desandra seemed about as stable as the Hawaiian Islands to me—she looked pretty, but if you searched hard enough, you’d find a volcano. Last thing I wanted was for her to self-destruct on me.

“Sure. You saw her. She doesn’t have anyone to talk to. As long as we go easy and wear kid gloves, she’ll be happy to chat. We’ll girl-talk her.”

Girl talk, right.

“I’ll stay in the hallway,” Raphael told us.

A minute later Andrea and I walked into Desandra’s room. George was sitting on the bed by Desandra, who looked as sullen as you could get without actually crossing your arms and sticking your bottom lip all the way out. Aunt B smiled in a benign way, while George carefully braided Desandra’s hair.

Shreds of bright silver wrapping paper and pieces of cardboard littered the rug. Next to them lay a broken toilet bowl brush with a ribbon bow and a card hanging from it.

Long strands of blond hair lay on the carpet, over the wrapping paper. Their ends were bloody.

I pointed at the brush. “What is this?”

“Her father sent her a present,” George said through clenched teeth. “The card says, So you’ll have something to defend yourself next time.”

That bloody bastard.

I nodded at the hair. “And that?”

“After we received the gift, we got a little emotional and pulled some hair out,” Aunt B said. “But then we decided that our hair was pretty, and we shouldn’t disfigure ourselves, especially because it won’t hurt our dear father. Not even a little bit.”

“It will grow back,” Desandra said.

“No worries,” George told her. “I’ve hidden all of the bald spots.”