Casually Cursed (30 page)

BRYN STOOD AT
the windows, staring out. He’d dressed in jeans and a thick cable-knit gray sweater. I left him alone for a few minutes after I got dressed, but then I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around him.

He was stiff with anger and frustration, but I held on, talking to him softly, telling him my plan. When he didn’t speak, I kept talking, moving on from the problems we’d have to face at WAM and in the Never. Instead, I filled the silence with talk of home, of getting married, of cakes I’d bake him and parties we’d have, of a life we’d eventually get to live. One day real soon, I promised.

He finally relaxed in my arms, resting his forehead against the glass.

“If things go wrong, Tamara . . .” He left the sentence unfinished, but I knew what he meant. He might have a hard time forgiving me.

I pressed a kiss against the back of his neck. “I’m going to headquarters. If I can, I’ll help Edie and Andre get out. I’d think that legally, we can defend my doing that, right? The president asked for a magic amber. I gave him one.”

Bryn nodded. “But I don’t think it’ll come to a legal battle because getting them out . . . Headquarters is very well guarded.”

“I know. That’s why I’m gonna resort to trickery.”

“The Conclave is pretty savvy. There are security cameras everywhere. There are spells to neutralize attack spells.”

“You said Andre can disable security.”

“Some of it. Maybe,” Bryn said. “Definitely not all of it.”

“I don’t need it all off. What’s the one thing the Association must fear more than anything?” I asked.

“Losing the amber they have. If it’s truly the source of magic in the world, there’s nothing more valuable to them.”

“Exactly. And who would they worry would come to take it?”

Bryn stared at me. “The fae.”

“Yep. So if a faery were to infiltrate the building, every other thing, including guarding some witches whose crimes were minor and who were probably going to be freed anyway, wouldn’t be a priority.”

“And what faery is going to infiltrate the building as a diversion?”

“Me. And a little friend with a big attitude.”

“You’ll never be able to sneak him in.”

“We’ll manage. Gonna do it the fae way. . . . Gonna wing it.” I winked.

He didn’t smile. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

Bryn rubbed his mouth as if to hold back other things he might say. Finally he added, “If you get caught and I have to do something drastic to get you out of there, we’ll have to go on the run, you know? That will be the end of living in Duvall. Just so you realize what’s at stake.”

I caught his face in my hands. “We might do that. Or we might just stand our ground in Texas and beat them with our home-field advantage.” I gave him a kiss. “C’mon, Merc; I might need your help,” I said, walking to the front door. I gestured for Merc to get in the duffel, which he did. “Hey, Bryn?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

He nodded.

I stopped at the door, raising my brows and waiting. “Are you going to say you love me back?”

“I don’t need to say it. I’m going to prove it by doing the most reckless things I’ve ever done in my adult life, by accompanying you to Scotland and then underhill. If you don’t understand the depth of what I feel for you from that, you never will.”

“If something goes wrong, I’ll make it up to you.”

He didn’t answer.

“I promise,” I said softly, but a part of me wondered whether that would be possible. My heart ached and I had to bite my lip and force myself to leave the room. What I really wanted to do was to tell Bryn I’d changed my mind and that we could just go home and get married and stop rebelling against the faery monarchy and the witch government. Except that would’ve meant abandoning our family and friends. So I marched down the hall to the elevator with ten shades of Texas rebel in my Halfling heart.

Getting on the elevator, though, I couldn’t help but think that maybe Kismet was right. Maybe I loved too many people too much.

*   *   *

“YOU HAVE TO
hack the system and shut down the security cameras,” I repeated, whispering into Andre’s ear while I gave him a hug. “And you’re never allowed to play poker,” I added. “Stop making that scared face, ’cause the cameras are still rolling and someone might notice.”

“Hi, Evie,” I said, moving on. “I brought the stuff from the list. I’m taking over the kitchen so I can drug the president. Think you can glamour Andre to look like him?” I whispered.

Edie’s rich, throaty laugh filled the air. “My darling biscuit, I learned a new expression from the young American operative I had sex with last night in the main conference room.”

My jaw dropped. “You slept with a Conclave spy in a conference room? There are security cameras. You could be on YouTube by now.”

“What’s YouTube? The Internet?”

“Never mind. Listen, this isn’t a James Bond movie called
The Spy Who Loved Me
. You shouldn’t be sleeping around with these guys. They’re killers. Ask Aunt Mel how her affair with Incendio the Conclave warlock worked out.”

“Speaking of the warlock that she needed magical earrings to defend against, what are you doing wearing the Colombian emeralds? Those were a gift to your—”

“Cameras!” I hissed.

“Never mind,” she added in a whisper, and went on speaking into my ear. “You asked if I could work a glamour on Andre if necessary? That question calls for an expression I learned last night.
Game on.
”

“Oh, my God. Stop talking. I don’t want to know any more about that.”

“Let’s rock and roll, Merc,” I said. I grabbed the herbs I needed and left the rest with the Park Avenue Mata Hari.

I got permission from the president to use the kitchen with supervision. The kitchen staff and an operative eyed me suspiciously, but loaned me an oven and a section of counter space. I whipped batter and cream. I also slipped a mortar and pestel in my pockets when the operative’s attention was focused on Mercutio. I left the kitchen for a bathroom break and while in a stall ground some smuggled herbs together and put them into a pepper shaker.

When I returned to the kitchen, I filled the cooled pastry shells with cream, and hummed, hoping my plan would work the way I needed it to.

The humid kitchen made Mercutio restless, which was actually helpful, because I watched the motion-activated cameras follow him around. When they stopped moving, I didn’t.

I hurried to the dining room, where Andre was hunched over a laptop. He’d sweated through his shirt despite the cool air.

“All done?”

He looked up at me over the top of his glasses. “This is a huge thing I’ve done. A greater offense than anything before.” He mopped his damp brow with his sleeve.

“They aren’t going to be able to trace what happened.”

“Of course they will,” he said.

No, they won’t. Not if I have my way.

I walked to the window and tried to open it. It didn’t budge.

“Those are sealed shut. Even though electronic security in this block is off, the window won’t open.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, grabbing a chair. I slammed it against the glass until it broke. Shakes buzzed up and landed on the sill.

“Yahoo!” he yelled, flying around the window frame, but not entering. Not yet.

“Is that a—Oh, my God, what have you done?” Andre said, then lapsed into a barrage of agitated German.

“Shakes, you know what to do. It’s on the table. Give me a few minutes.” I turned to Edie and Andre. “Aunt Edie, get moving on your spells. When you’re both disguised, just go. Don’t wait for me.”

I took the tray of pastries and another of tea I’d brought from the kitchen and exited the dining room, calling over my shoulder for them to lock the door behind me.

The experiments to authenticate the amber were taking place in the conference room attached to the president’s office. I knocked, and an operative let me in after checking with President Anderson.

My grandmother, a high-ranking WAM administrator named Basil Glenn, and a couple other wizards who looked like they belonged in an Indiana Jones movie crowded around the table. The president, who stood near them, stopped speaking when I entered. In the corner, wearing a red pantsuit, Poppy chewed bubble gum and pretended to watch me only casually.

I set the tea and pastries down and started serving people.

“What’s she doing here?” Poppy asked.

“I brought treats.”

“Don’t eat those! Anything could be in them,” Poppy said, stalking over.

I closed my eyes and circled my fingers over the tray. I grabbed a random cream puff and took a bite. Then I poured myself a cup of tea and took a swig. “Suit yourselves if you don’t want to eat.”

After a brief hesitation, several of them ate, except Poppy and my grandmother. When no one had a reaction to the food and tea, I smiled smugly. I’d considered putting the sleeping herbs in the cream or drinks, but I thought the Conclave people might be paranoid enough to suspect that and maybe they’d have me act as taster. Also, I wanted to be able to say later that I had eaten and drunk the same things as them. It was what Bryn called plausible deniability.

“So I did my part,” I said. “I brought you the amber from the picture. It’s time to keep your word. When I leave today I’m taking my friends.”

They looked at me, suddenly alert. President Anderson wiped his fingers with a napkin. “We will be done soon.”

“Or perhaps we won’t. We must be thorough and sure of what we have,” my grandmother said.

“Authentication isn’t my problem,” I said.

“Where did you get the amber?” Poppy demanded. “Did you have it when you left the woods?”

I licked the cream from my fingers. “I’m not telling.”

“She is more than she seems. Like me. Don’t you see that?” Poppy murmured. “You said the details of where it was found were of critical importance. She should be kept here with her friends until she tells us what we need to know. The guys who were with her should be brought in, too. Give me the go-ahead, and we’ll get them.”

President Anderson paused thoughtfully.

“Don’t even think about it. Just do what you promised,” I said.

“We need the details. I’m not planning to lock you up, and I will allow your friends to leave. Eventually.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“You’re a valuable asset. Why don’t we talk about your future?”

“Why would I want to work for you? When you’re proving that I can’t trust you to keep your word.”

The alarm was like the thump of a bass. It didn’t just make a loud noise; it made the walls vibrate and seemed to thud through us. Shakes had flown into an area where security was intact.

I saw a shimmer of light pour from the vent.
There he is.

I bent my head, took a breath, and held it. Everyone jumped up from their chairs.

“What is that?” I asked.

“There’s a security breach!” Poppy said, spinning toward the door. The bass got louder, and I felt the herbs and faery dust blow over our skin. They looked up and around frantically and then they fell, one by one.

I wiped my face and rushed out. Shakes had done a great job with that pepper shaker.

I breathed the untainted air and hurried down the hall.

Metal stairs rattled. Someone was running up or down or both. President Anderson walked into the hall. I looked over my shoulder at the conference room door, which hadn’t opened.

“Andre?” I murmured.

The president gave a sharp shake of his head.

Conclave operatives burst from the stairwell. One said, “There’s a small faery in the vents. He’s probably going to try to reach the vault.”

“There are no vents into the vault. And small fae will get trapped in the grids. The charged fields are spelled to smell like honey to them,” the other operative said to the fake president.

My grandmother stepped into the hall, carrying a laptop. I realized that she was actually Andre.

“The alarms are loudest up here, sir. Let’s move you downstairs until we secure these upper floors. I’ll escort you. You, too,” the operative said, beckoning me. “Let’s go.”

I whistled.

He whipped out his gun and pointed it at me.

“My cat’s up here. I’m whistling for him to come,” I lied. That whistle was for Shakes. It meant he should get out of the vents and the building.

“What’s that?” I asked, sniffing. “Is that smoke?”

“Move!” the Conclave operative snapped, shoving me into the stairwell.

A faint German curse reached my ears.

“What?” the Conclave operative said.

“Nothing. I just said shit,” I offered.

C’mon, Andre, don’t blow it!
I thought furiously. My grandma wasn’t likely to go around cursing in German.

“Keep quiet,” the spy said.

The smoke thickened.

“Mercutio!” I called. “I have to go back for my cat.”

The operative grabbed me before I could get through the door, but I spotted Merc. He bounded into the stairwell, swiping the operative’s arm as he flew past. The spy grabbed his arm, letting me go. I hurried down the stairs. We were almost to the ground floor when the sprinklers kicked on.

Mercutio yowled.

“I know. It’s a mess,” I said, glancing at Edie in her President Anderson glamour. His hair wasn’t wet. It wasn’t even damp.

Uh-oh!

When we poured out of the stairwell, Mercutio, the operative, and I were dripping wet, but the water running off the president and my grandma didn’t saturate them.

“What the hell?” the spy said.

I didn’t hesitate. I tackled him, making sure his head hit the tile floor. I grabbed his gun, but didn’t need it. He was out cold.

“Cover your heads, because you don’t look wet,” I said. “And hurry!” I yelled, leading them through the chaotic lobby.

“What’s happening?” an operative hollered.

“There’s an attack on the top floor. Faeries smashed a window and came through. You’ll need iron ammunition!” Edie as the president said.

“Second floor,” one of them yelled, and rushed into the stairwell. As they went up, we walked right out.

I led Edie and Andre around the corner and then onto the street. I hailed a taxi.