The use of Warden guards was strictly limited. Guarding the family of Wardens wasn’t covered by their duties, so telling them to escort Bern and Runa was right out. Technically they would guard me if I ordered them to as long as I was performing an official investigation but going to get my mother wasn’t a Warden matter, it was a Baylor matter.
“Go back to base and fortify,” I told her.
“Yes, Acting Warden.”
The last person climbed into the Warden vehicle and banged on the side. The carrier rolled out. Linus’ people had a base outside of Houston. Its location was well hidden and the base itself enjoyed the full benefit of the best defensive weaponry Duncan Arms could provide. If Arkan went after them, he would regret it.
He wouldn’t go after them. Why would he when what he wanted was inside the Compound.
Bern loaded the computer tower into the Humvee and got behind the wheel. The Humvee rolled up to me, windows down. “Do you need us to come with you?” Runa asked.
“No. I need you to go home and get our phones back online. Alessandro and Leon are out there, and they are deaf and mute.” And Bern was the only one who could fix it.
“I’ll take care of it,” Bern promised.
The Humvee took off.
I ran up to Rhino and jumped into the driver’s seat. Cornelius was already in the passenger seat, holding a tactical shotgun. Gus panted in the back. I reversed, peeled out of the driveway, and stopped just outside the gate.
Seconds ticked off. One, two . . . Ten . . .
The gate clanged shut. Turrets spiraled out of the ground, sparking with residual magic. A low buzz rolled through the street. The system was hot. From now on Linus’ mansion would be off-limits.
Cornelius’ silver BMW waited parked ten yards ahead. He must’ve moved it.
“Do you want me to drop you off at your car?” I asked.
“No. We’d like to ride home with you. Safety in numbers. I’ll pick up my car later.”
Gus made a small woof in agreement.
I could use all of the backup I could get. “Thank you.”
I drove down the street, rolling over the speed bumps, pulled a U-turn and sped toward the Buffalo Speedway.
The Buffalo Speedway was crowded. The traffic was steady but moving at a decent speed.
“I paired the phone to the car. Your mother’s phone was already in contacts under Mom,” Cornelius reported.
“Call Mom.”
The car’s audio system obediently dialed. Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Your call has been forwarded . . .”
“Mom, I’m coming to get you. Call me.”
A sign flashed.
CAUTION
CONSTRUCTION AHEAD
The car in front of me put on its brakes. The caravan of vehicles compacted, slowing down.
“Call Mom.”
Ring. Ring. Ring.
LEFT LANE
CLOSED
500 FEET
“Your call has been forwarded . . .”
“Your mother is very capable,” Cornelius said.
“Yes.”
My mother was also a high-value target. If Arkan’s crew got to her, I would give them anything they wanted to get her back.
“Could you please look up the number for Margolis Autopsy Lab at the Woman’s Hospital and try that?”
“Of course.” Cornelius fiddled with the phone. “Here it is.”
He put the phone on speaker. Ring . . . Ring . . . “You have reached the Margolis . . .”
I waited until the tone. “This message is for Penelope Baylor. Please call me immediately.” I left my new phone number and Cornelius hung up.
The traffic funneled into a single lane. We crawled past the left lane blocked off with cones and white pickup trucks.
“Of course there is construction,” I said. My voice was so calm, it was almost robotic.
“Different cities are famous for different things,” Cornelius said. “San Antonio is known for the River Walk and the Alamo. Austin is famous or infamous for 6th Street with its bars and shootings. We have construction and floods.”
The lane narrowed, hemmed in by concrete barriers on the right. I steered Rhino with laser precision, caught between the nonexistent shoulder and the row of traffic cones.
“Catalina,” Cornelius said quietly. “Your hands have gone white.”
“Thank you.” I eased my grip on the wheel.
“You are exceptionally calm,” he observed.
“Alessandro got into a car with a man who is supposedly working for Lenora Jordan but could’ve been an illusion mage, because the Harris DA evidently has an emergency with strikingly convenient timing. Leon was supposed to shadow the FBI, but I didn’t see any sign of him at the Cabera mansion. My mother is outside of the Compound, and none of them are answering their phones. The Compound is under attack. I can’t afford anything but calm right now.”
“They separated us and are hitting us one by one?” Cornelius guessed.
“That’s how I would do it.”
“I’ll try Alessandro and Leon again.” He tapped the phone.
We passed Richmond Avenue.
“No response,” Cornelius reported.
If I thought about it for too long, I’d panic.
The phone lit up. An incoming call. “Accept!”