Gudrun looked back at the Confederate Monument and shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but I do know the witches who created the line demonstrated absolute indifference about anyone other than themselves.” A shirtless guy, about a thousand years too young for Gudrun, jogged past us for what I realized was the fifth time. His gaze met with hers many times at each pass. “Foolish child,” she said, but I wasn’t sure if she meant the runner or me. “Today’s anchors are no different. Ayako told me the other anchors have kept many things secret from you. Even now they have left you to believe that Ayako has been bound, but I assure you she has not been. Your fellow anchors have decided in your case, her actions were understandable, even if they did lead to a result Ayako herself had not intended.” She smiled and placed her palm over her heart. “They have agreed they need Ayako for the final battle they plan to wage against the two of us.” She nodded at the fact the other anchors had judged me as being as dangerous as the great Gudrun herself.
She folded her hands together like she intended to say grace. “I realize I am asking you to think in ways that go against your current convictions, perhaps even against your very nature, but I sought you out because you are special. I am convinced you are the witch we have waited for. The witch who can bring an end to the abomination you call the line. I promise you, though, if I cannot bring you around to my way of thinking, I will go. I will leave you and yours in peace. I have no desire to be at odds with you, Mercy. After all, we are of the same blood.”
Well, there you have it. Her words struck me as a despicable and incontrovertible truth. I hated it, but for the first time since Gudrun had begun flapping her gums at me, I believed her. Really believed her. “You are a Weber?” I was related to Jilo—sort of. Now I was related to Gudrun too. I evidently shared DNA with half of the flipping world.
“No, not a Weber, but your father, Erik, was a cousin to me.”
I couldn’t even begin to process this at the moment. It was like learning I was second cousin to the boogeyman. It seemed just as impossible and twice as frightening. Right now, though, our shared blood might be the only thing keeping me alive. Hoping she would be bound by a thief’s honor, I decided to pin her down to a promise. “So, we agree to disagree, you let me leave? You leave me and mine alone?”
“Your fellow anchors would consider your proposal the final proof of your treachery.” She seemed pleased by the thought. She nodded. “You have my word. I onl
y have one more issue to discuss with you, before we part.”
I felt a rising suspicion at the same moment I felt my stomach dropping. “What’s that?”
“All right. I acknowledge that you’re not a killer. At least not in this circumstance. What, though, if it constitutes a matter of administering justice?”
“I am not a judge, and I am certainly not an executioner.”
“No? Well, I think I should grant you the opportunity to be both.” She raised her hand and began drawing a small circle in the air next to me. “You blamed me for your losses, but I am, in truth, not to blame.” The empty space next to me began to solidify, darken. “He is,” she said as Josef appeared by my side. The moment he assumed full corporality, he spat in Gudrun’s direction. He strained against bonds of dark matter that fettered his feet and held his arms in place behind his back. “I hand him over to you for judgment.”
“Bitch.” The word no sooner escaped his lips than a band of the binding darkness formed around his mouth.
“Perhaps,” Gudrun replied, “but it is you who has need of a muzzle. He is yours,” she said, turning her focus back to me. “At least for the next twenty-four hours. I have put a kink in his magic, and until this time tomorrow, he will be without power. After that, he will again be free, to go on harming all those you love, and who knows how many more.” Her eyes scanned him. “He’s killed over fifty humans and”—she tilted her head inquisitively—“three witches.” Her face took on a bemused look. “Really, Josef, if your sister is weak enough to let you live to see another day, I would love to hear about those three witches.” She focused on me. “Of course, if she is weak enough to let you escape, I suspect that number will have risen to four by the time we meet again.” She waited for the meaning of her words to enjoy their full effect. “I trust you can find your own way home.” With that, Gudrun was gone.
TWENTY-FIVE
We stowed the still-gagged, bound, and powerless Josef in my old room. Stained as it already was by the memory of Teague’s death, I didn’t mind. My emotions had begun to let go of the space, and I had decided to take over the room on the other side of the nursery. It was smaller and didn’t have the same view my old room did, but it also didn’t have the old room’s memories.
For Maisie’s own good, Iris insisted she be locked in her room until we figured out how best to deal with Josef, a fate to which Maisie acquiesced with stoicism. “You understand?” I asked her before the family used our combined magic to seal the door.
“Yes,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “Oriental rugs are expensive and hard to clean.” Darn, I loved that girl.
On the other end of the spectrum stood Josef, my younger brother, well, half brother. I wondered how things might have been, if it weren’t for my mother and her friends having twisted him. Would we have eventually met each other and bonded? Or was he damaged from inception? My own word choice struck me. Inception, rather than conception. Somehow it seemed to be the right term when thinking of Erik Weber’s four children. We, his offspring, seemed to have been plotted rather than the products of ordinary physical intercourse. Rather than fathering children to preserve his memory or to pass on his traits, it seemed like he had been breeding pawns to be moved around in a game. I wondered if his children really numbered four, or if he’d managed to breed an army of damaged progeny.
“I don’t like having him here.” Oliver slapped his hand down on the table and pulled me back to the present. “He seems so damned cocksure someone is going to come riding to his rescue. I’m telling you the little prick is a Trojan horse. Gudrun wanted him here for a reason.”
“Well, I couldn’t leave him standing outside Sentient Bean, could I?”
“Gingersnap.” He shook his head. “I’m not saying you did anything wrong, I’m just saying it’s too neat of a package simply to have Josef handed over to us by a card-carrying member of the ‘Spear of Destiny’ club.”
Adam turned to Oliver. “Do you find this boy attractive?”
Oliver startled and his eyebrows rose high. He seemed genuinely shocked. “How could you even ask that? He’s a total psychopath.”
Adam looked at me rather than at my uncle. “All right, my bad.” He smiled at me. He was trying to lighten the mood, and I loved him for trying, but my heart was having none of it. The glint faded from Adam’s eye. He ran his finger around the rim of his glass. “I agree, we would be foolhardy to take this Gudrun at her word for anything.” His eyes grew unfocused, and his face hardened. “I must admit, after what the little bastard did to me, it is taking every ounce of self-control I can muster not to beat that smug face of his until there’s nothing left of it ’cept broken bone and table scraps.”
“You aren’t going to do that, Adam,” Iris said and shook her head. “You are not going to sink to his level. You are a better man than that.”
“I think you see me as better than I truly am, ma’am.” Adam’s voice sounded calm, measured, but the look in his eyes told me Josef was pretty lucky Iris was there to serve as Adam’s conscience.
“Your desire for revenge is understandable, but no, I see you plainly as you are. Otherwise, you would not be allowed to date my baby brother.”
Adam’s entire body rocked, then he laughed. He turned to Oliver. “Did she just say ‘allowed’?”
Oliver nodded once and chuckled. “She sure did.”
“She means it too,” Iris added with mock severity.