“Pretty cool,” I agreed, sounding for all the world like a mom trying to imitate her teen daughter’s speech. “But what if it’s not a vampire? What if a human gets in?”

“We have a contingency plan for that,” Anne replied smugly. “A furry contingency plan.”

“Werewolves.” Max made a disgusted noise. “They’re not affected by UV lights. They do a manual sweep of the halls and kill anything still out there.”

The idea that at any time someone could flip a switch and subject us to unnatural, but seriously harmful, daylight unnerved me, and I flinched as the fluorescent bulbs flickered above us.

“Don’t worry,” Anne said with a laugh. “Only a handful of people have the security breach code. Keeps us safer that way.”

The tour continued through a maze of downward sloping halls. Each level had heightened security, like the Pentagon back home. Anne explained what some of the rooms contained, and I nodded politely, but my mind kept wandering to my worries over Nathan.

“And this,” she said, sliding her card through a reader and opening a heavy door, “is where our tour ends. General Breton’s office.”

“Well, thanks,” I offered lamely. “This has been…educational.”

“You mean boring.” Anne sighed dramatically. She might have been hundreds of years old, but she had the sarcastic American teenager act down pat. “Just imagine living here.”

“Wah, wah, wah,” Max teased cheerfully. “We’ll see you on the way out.”

Anne left us at the door with a little wave. Before Max could enter the office, I put my hand on his shoulder. “Okay, I get it. High security, superparanoia. Why are we here?”

“We’re here because we need to help Nathan.” Max put his foot in the door and let it close a bit. “Listen, it’s pretty clear that whatever happened to him was a spell someone cast. The Movement can help us find out who.”

“How? Do they keep a database of all witches, too? It would be impossible! Do you have any clue how many fifteen-year-old Sabrina wannabes there are out there?” I wanted to kick the wall, I was so frustrated. “Can you just please give me a straight answer? You always have before!”

“Fine!” He scanned the hallway before he spoke. “We’re here to see the Oracle.”

“The Oracle?” I repeated, a ridiculous image of the magic mirror from Snow White popping into my brain.

“She’s a vampire, a really old one. She knows things. She knows practically everything, and what she doesn’t, she can find out. But she’s dangerous.” Max blew out a breath, as if he knew the inevitable was about to come. “I was hoping I could convince Breton to let me in to see her.”

“Without me, right?” What was it with male vampires that they thought I needed their constant protection? “No way.”