“It looks like I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I turned from him, feeling trapped.
He sighed behind me, a long breath filled with frustration. “I know you don’t like this. And believe me, if there was any other way I’d suggest it. But look at it this way, the Hekate Council wants you. You’re already a hero to them because of your help finding the mages at the vineyard. Your sister is dying to meet you.” He paused. “And if that’s not enough, what better way to punish your grandmother than to side with her enemy?”
I stopped and turned. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” A slow smile spread on my lips as I thought of Lavinia’s reaction when she found out. Once she got back to L.A. from her little arctic expedition, that is. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”
He smiled and started to say something, but I held up a hand. “But I have conditions. First, I am a free agent. I don’t take orders from the Hekate Council or anyone else.”
“But—”
“Second,” I said, overriding his protest. “No more secrets. If I’m going to do this, I don’t want surprises popping up left and right or things you ‘forgot’ to mention about this prophecy stuff.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “Anything else?”
I thought about it for a minute. “Yes, that you be the one to train me. I don’t want to get there and be handed off to some schoolmarm who’ll rap my knuckles if I screw up a spell.”
A lopsided smile appeared on his lips. “I’ll see what I can do. Is that all?”
“No,” I said, feeling better. “I also want Giguhl there with me if he’s willing. All mages need a familiar, right?”
“Ah, that might be a problem,” Adam said. “Mages and demons aren’t exactly natural allies.”
“Tough,” I said. “If the Council doesn’t like it, they can find someone else.”
Adam crossed his arms and regarded me levelly. “You drive a hard bargain, Red.”
“Damn straight.”
“It’s a deal.” He held out his hand to shake on it. Wary of his easy acceptance, I grabbed his palm in my own. I smiled at him, but inside I was freaking. If someone had told me a month earlier that I’d soon turn my back on the only family I’d ever known in favor of the one I thought had shunned me from birth, I’d have laughed and punched them in the face. Yet, here I was shaking hands with a mage to seal that very bargain. Of course, I also never thought I’d befriend a nymph, have a demon cat minion, or make out with a mancy. So maybe prophecy isn’t my forte.
“We’d better get back,” Adam said. “The Hekate Council wants us to report as soon as possible.”
I pulled on his hand to stop him when he moved to leave. “Wait, a second. They’re expecting us?”
He looked sheepish. “I told them you’d agree to come.”
“Someone’s pretty sure of himself.”
He stopped and looked at me, his expression serious. “Honestly? I was praying you’d say yes. If you had said no, I don’t know what I would have done.”
I laughed out loud for the first time in days. “Lucky for you I said yes then, huh?”
He chuckled. “You ready to go meet your destiny, Sabina Kane?”
Thinking it over, I looked up. A white owl with glowing red eyes sat in a nearby tree watching us. It was the one I’d seen the night I killed David. According to Adam, it was one of Lilith’s spies. I still wasn’t convinced by all his talk of prophecies and underworld espionage. At that moment, however, the owl was just a reminder of the night I killed my friend. A pang of regret hit me hard. Now that I thought about it, I realized my split from the Dominae began that night. The minute they’d asked me to kill David, I should have walked away. Instead, I’d ignored my instincts in favor of misplaced loyalty. That skewed sense of honor had kept me blind as the proof of my grandmother’s treachery piled up. Now the blinders were off, and I owed it to David’s memory to see this thing through to the bitter end. But even more than that, I owed it to myself.
I took a deep breath and held it before exhaling loudly. “Hell, no, I’m not ready.” He looked at me with a worried expression. “But I’ll do it anyway.”
The owl hooted and rose from the branch, its snowy wings spreading against the inky night sky as it flew east.
