Reap the Wind (Cassandra Palmer 7)

“I knew how it worked for others. I thought we were different.”

“We are different. But we have two relationships—”

“Until you decide otherwise!”

“Cassie—”

“Give me the Tears, Mircea!”

And I knew it, saw it in his eyes before he even got the words out. “Give me an army.”

“Goddamnit!” I said, and shifted.

Chapter Thirty-five

“You’re calling him?” Tami followe

d me from the lounge, where she’d been putting a puzzle together with some of the kids, into the kitchen.

“Yep.”

“But I thought you were gonna give him more time.”

“He’s had time,” I said, and grabbed the house phone.

She grinned and slid some cornflakes in front of me while we waited for the connection to go through. It didn’t take long, which wasn’t surprising considering that it was a little after eight a.m. here, meaning it was afternoon in Britain. And considering that it didn’t go through to the right guy, even though this was his direct line.

“Lord Protector’s office,” a brisk-sounding functionary told me. “How may I help?”

“By putting me through to Jonas.”

“And whom shall I say is calling?”

“Cassandra Palmer.”

There was a small silence on the other end. “I . . . shall inquire.”

“What’s he doing?” Tami asked, leaning on the counter, eyes bright, while I listened to Elton John sing about tiny dancers.

“Inquiring.”

“What is there to inquire about? You’re the Pythia. They put you through.”

“No, they put Agnes through.”

Tami scowled.

“He . . . the Lord Protector . . . is in a meeting,” the secretary informed me after a minute. “I was instructed to arrange . . . an appointment?”

Jonas needed to get some new help, I decided.

Even his secretary sounded like he knew that was bullshit.

“Okay,” I said. “I just wanted to check with him before anything was finalized.”

“Finalized?”

“Yes, you know. About my court?”