Penelope and Alfred beamed at her, clearly impressed with her offer. “That would be wonderful, Caia, thank you.”
Marita threw a strained smile her way. “Aren’t you exhausted, dear?”
“No. I want to do this. I want every inch of that place leveled.”
“I’ll send someone with you, just in case.”
Why, so they could spy, find the information Marita wanted anyway? She didn’t think so.
Caia shook her head. “I’d prefer to choose someone to go with me.”
“Of course.” Alfred nodded and then seared Marita with a penetrating look. “Caia should have whomever she feels most comfortable with in the field.”
“That would be Lucien, then.” Marita almost sneered at her.
“No.” Caia shook her head. The last thing she needed was complicating this with Lucien thrown into the mix. No. There was only one person she believed could be trusted. Someone so principled, they were cold with it. “I want Phoebe MacLachlan.”
Marion smiled and muttered, “Mutual respect.”
“What?” Marita asked in agitation, but it went unanswered as Marion swept toward Caia, outlining the plan she had in mind. Alfred, Penelope, and Vanne thought it a sound one, and it was with great relief that she left the suite with Marion in tow.
As the elevator descended, Marion snorted.
“What?” Caia asked wearily.
She shook her head. “Nothing. I just … well, I haven’t seen someone use that kind of charm since my grandmother. She was some lady when she was Head of the Coven. Had the Council eating out of her hand all the time. I knew you were likable, Caia, but I was unaware of the amount of charisma you can unleash when you want to. What are you up to?”
“I was just being friendly. I think it’s important the coven believe in me, considering my lineage, don’t you? Also … I’m working toward making Marita aware that I have no intention of staying at the Center.”
“Ah, I see. Subtle. Nice. I’m sure my sister will be pleased to hear that. Another piece of good news,” she muttered wryly.
“Marion.” Caia turned to the magik, wide-eyed. “What happened with Laila?”
“Oh.” Marion nodded, her eyes wide with anxiety. “Good question. They discovered it was a young boy from the Center, a Traveler. He must’ve been working with the girl because he’s gone too. It was the boy who brought her here in the first place.”
“Really?” She hoped she didn’t betray herself. “Any leads?”
Marion shook her head. “That’s the thing. Marita can’t get a hold of his trace.”
What the Hades?
“What?”
Was this some kind of trick?
“His trace has been cloaked.”
“And this is a possibility? Why wasn’t I told about this?”
“Because … only a very, very old supernatural has that ability.”
“How old?”
“As old as the war itself.”
“Vilhelm?”
Marion shook her head. “No. The truth is, we knew there was a possibility there were beings that old still kicking around. The Midnight Coven’s prophet is that old. But we thought he was the only one.”
“I’ve seen him in the trace. I don’t think it’s him.”
“Well … if it’s not, we have a mystery player in our midst.”
Caia’s mood plummeted at the thought of yet another problem.
“Not that you should worry about that at the moment, Caia, since you have another task to complete for dear old sis.”
“Yeah. The lab.”
“You didn’t have to offer to do this. You could’ve just given her the coordinates on a map. Anyone could have done the job.”
She nodded absently. No, not anyone. Poor Marion. She would be devastated when she learned that her sister was breaking every one of the supernatural rights laws. But now was not the time to tell her. Caia needed to get back to the pack—and to Vilhelm—as quickly as possible, and together, they could put her new plan into action. She hated the thought of leaving those children down there, but she couldn’t just charge in. Marita would throw her in prison and then where would they be?
No. She needed an army. The most powerful army at her disposal. The political kind.
“And you’re sure you don’t want to involve Lucien?” Vanne queried, worry creased between his eyebrows.
Caia glanced around the room. “I told you, he doesn’t need to do this, and he’s with Rose right now, seeing her through her recovery.”
Marita glowered at her husband. “The lykan doesn’t need to follow her everywhere, Vanne. Caia is quite capable of taking care of this by herself.”
Yeah, like that was what you wanted.
She nodded anyway, thinking of how annoyed Lucien would be when he found out. She should at least tell him before departing.
It was only a few hours after she’d met with Alfred and Penelope, and they were going over the plan to destroy the lab one more time. The lab was situated on the Left Bank in the Latin Quarter, in the basement of a disused jazz bar. It was guarded by only one daemon, but as Caia knew, sometimes one daemon was enough.