I dreaded telling Gabriel about Seanna. Fortunately, I was able to avoid it for now—he was preoccupied, deciding whether he should tell me something. Finally, he said, “About the last time Pamela was injured…”

“When she was stabbed by another inmate.”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “After the fact, I conducted basic inquiries into the matter, which led me to believe…it may not have unfolded as she claimed.”

“She wasn’t actually attacked.”

“No, it does seem she was.”

“But she staged it, didn’t she?”

“I believe so,” he said. “Pamela has no history of altercations with other inmates, and she very deliberately provoked one known to be unstable and to possess a makeshift blade. She allowed the attack to progress just far enough to require hospitalization and then handily pinned the other woman.”

“Damn.”

“Pamela may not appear an intimidating adversary, but, unlike Todd, she has not avoided trouble in prison through the use of natural charm. She learned several forms of martial arts early in her incarceration.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean I’m surprised she could stop her attacker. I’m expressing admiration for one hell of a scheme. That takes some serious nerve.”

“Yes, my mother could take lessons from yours, and I’ll join you in unwilling but genuine admiration.”

“And the reason you’re telling me this now is that you think she’s pulling the same stunt?”

He drove in silence for a minute before saying, carefully, “That seems the obvious answer. That instead of risking further injury, she’s ingested something to cause the loss of consciousness.”

“Something given to her by her fae sycophants.”

“I hadn’t thought of that, but it would explain why the doctors are baffled. What I don’t understand is her goal. You two are, arguably, on the best terms you have ever been, with no recent altercations.”

“She must want something else.”

He shook his head. “There is an angle here, and it does involve you. I simply don’t see it yet.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Gabriel did not suggest we cancel our visit to the hospital. As always, the only real way to learn an adversary’s plans was to proceed as they expected and get a look at the trap close up.

At the hospital, we were directed to the proper floor, where the nurse told us Pamela’s condition was critical and she wasn’t allowed visitors.

“Critical?” I said. “We were supposed to get a call if her condition changed.”

The nurse looked like a teenager. She couldn’t be, obviously, but her expression was stereotypical teen, the one that said we were just a couple of adults making her life difficult and could we please move along and let her get back to texting with her friends?

“Please put down your cell phone while you’re speaking to us,” Gabriel said.

The nurse gave a start at that.