Or destroy them, I feared. And I didn’t like the thought of Balthasar penetrating anything of mine, psychic or otherwise.
Catcher looked at me, head tilted and brow furrowed, as if I were a puzzle to decipher. “He changed her immunity?”
“Or slipped past it, yes,” Ethan said.
I waved a hand. “Still in the room.” But they were too involved in their analysis to care. Mallory walked over, rolled her eyes at their single-mindedness. She handed me a picnic basket.
“Thought we’d return this,” she said. “Margot knocked it out of the park, as always.”
I nodded, put the basket on Ethan’s desk. “She tends to do that.” I thought of the announcement they’d wanted to make. “Are you guys okay? Did you want to talk about something?”
She looked back at Catcher, opened her mouth as if to answer, but quickly closed it again. “We’re good. We’ll talk about it later. Really,” she added. “It’s no big deal. But this is.” Concern crossed her face. “You okay about this Balthasar thing?”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “It was, I don’t know, scary in a different kind of way. Not Catcher-throwing-fireballs scary, or even Ethan-facing-a-fiery-death scary.”
“It was dark-spike-right-into-your-soul scary?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah. That’s pretty much it exactly.” Since she’d been assaulted by a serial killer, of course she’d have understood.
I lowered my voice. Ethan was upset enough that I didn’t want to burden him with my lingering fear. “It was . . . personal.”
She reached out, squeezed my hand. “I’ve been there. Feels good when you really don’t want it to?”
I couldn’t stop the flush that warmed my neck, but nodded. “I don’t know how he’s cooking up that glamour, but he’s very, very good at it.”
“Where’s he been?” Catcher asked Ethan, who took a seat on the couch, gestured for them to join us. Mallory squeezed my hand again before releasing it, moving to sit in the chair beside Catcher’s. I took my now-familiar seat on the couch next to Ethan.
“According to him, he was kidnapped by a cult, tortured, incapacitated by extract of aspen.”
“You have doubts?”
“About his identity? I hardly could after tonight’s display. For the period in between? Well, he’s never been terribly well acquainted with the truth.”
That was very diplomatic, I said silently to Ethan, and felt his answering warmth.
I am trying to remember, as a wise vampire once told me, that I am more than he tried to make me.
I’d been that vampire and appreciated the shout-out.
“So, what’s the next step?” Mallory asked.
“I told him to leave the city,” Ethan said. “I suspect he won’t.”
“And why’s he here?” Catcher asked.
Ethan sighed, draped an arm along the back of the couch. “Hard to say at this early point, but add power, revenge, and possessiveness to the list. He said he wouldn’t leave, but I’m not yet sure if that’s because he wants to irritate me, finagle his way into our House and finances, or both.”
“That’s comforting,” Mallory said, and Ethan nodded.
“He’ll be well monitored, but to some extent we’ll have to wait for him to make a move.”
“You could,” Catcher said. “Or you could provoke him into making one.”
When Ethan’s expression didn’t change, I guessed he’d already considered that particular strategy.
I glanced at Ethan. “You’ve come up with a plan.”
“I’m considering disavowal.”