“Nick,” I blurted before he could say anything. “I’m sorry. Jenks’s kids had me under the kitchen table and were throwing splat balls at me. God help me, but it was funny. They’re in the garden right now, making rings around the ash tree and singing about cold steel.”

“Rachel?”

It was Glenn, and my mirth died at his worried tone. “What?” I said, looking at the trees through the shoulder-high windows. The spots of water covering me were suddenly cold, and I clasped an arm around myself.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said. “Can you be ready?”

I pushed my damp hair back. “Why? What’s happened?” I asked.

I heard him cover the receiver and shout something at someone. “You got your warrant to search Kalamack’s property,” he said when he returned.

“How?” I questioned, not believing Edden had caved. “Not that I’m complaining!”

Glenn hesitated. He took a slow breath, and I heard excited voices in the background. “Dr. Anders called me last night,” he said. “She knew you were going to follow her, so she moved her presentation to last night and asked me to go with her instead.”

“The witch,” I exclaimed softly, wishing I could have seen what Glenn had worn. I bet it had been sharp. But when he remained silent, the cold feeling in my stomach solidified into a sour lump.

“I’m sorry, Rachel,” Glenn said softly. “Her car went off Roebling Bridge this morning, pushed over the rail by what appeared to be a huge bubble of ley line force. They just pulled her car from the river. We’re still looking for the body.”

Nineteen

My foot jiggled as I impatiently stood beside the stack of manuals and empty paper cups that lined the sill of Trent’s gatehouse. Jenks was on my earring, muttering darkly as he watched Quen punch a button on the phone. I’d seen Quen only once before—possibly twice. The first time, he was masquerading as a gardener, actually managing to catch Jenks in a glass ball. I had a growing suspicion that Quen had been the third rider who tried to run me down on horseback the night I stole my blackmail disc from Trent. It was a feeling that solidified when Jenks told me Quen smelled just like Trent and Jonathan.

Quen reached in front of me for a pen, and I jerked back, not wanting him to touch me. Still on the phone, he smiled carefully, showing me extremely white, even teeth. This one, I thought, knew what I was capable of. This one wouldn’t underestimate me as Jonathan continually did. And though it was nice being taken seriously for once, I wished Quen was as egotistical and chauvinistic as Jonathan was.

Trent had once said Quen was willing to take me on as a student—after the security officer got over his desire to kill me for infiltrating the Kalamack compound. I wondered if I would have survived having him as a teacher.

Quen looked about the age my father would be if he were still alive. He had very dark hair that curled about his ears, green eyes that always seemed to be watching me, and a dancer’s grace that I knew came from a lifetime of martial arts practice. Dressed in a black security uniform with no insignia, he looked like he belonged to the night. He was a shade taller than I was in heels, and the strength in his lightly wrinkled physique had me on edge. His fingers were quick on a keyboard and his eyes were faster. The only weakness I’d noticed was a slight limp. And unlike everyone else in the room besides me, he had no weapon that I could see.