I heard her slump back in her chair. “No, those witch asshats threw me out of the Coven after you left. They said they needed more time to decide whether or not I was ‘qualified’ to join them, even after I’d done everything they’d asked—and I’d done it perfectly, I might add. So I stomped out and haven’t been back since. I’m still pissed. Why?”

“Something’s going on. I think Tally may have… disappeared.”

“What do you mean disappeared?” I heard her sit up, her stack of pencils clattering. “I would know if my old battle-ax of an aunt had left the country. She would’ve found a way to tell me, even though I wouldn’t have taken her calls. She could’ve sent an owl. Or a honey badger with a note attached to his collar. That would be more her style.”

“When we tried to come back from the Underworld the circle was dead. We were forced to take a portal back, which is why I’m sitting here wrapped in a tablecloth on a small Bahamian island. Tyler and Danny came through before us, but I haven’t tried the Safe House phone yet. They may have gotten stuck in a worse locale than we did—”

There was a jumble of muffled noises as Marcy covered the phone with her hand and spoke with someone else.

“Who are you talking to?” I asked. “Is that Naomi?”

More rustling, and then Marcy came back on the line. “Yes, that vamp has turned out to be one very talented investigator. Someone had to do your job while you were on vacation, so I added her to the payroll. I just sent her to the Coven to check it out. There’s been no gossip about the witches deserting at all. Damn. If they’re gone, the entire supernatural community should know about it. If you’re right, and they’re gone, quiet spells huge trouble.”

“Let’s not get too worried yet. Jumping to conclusions won’t help us.” Marcy had no idea what had gone on in the Underworld and I didn’t have the time or desire to worry her about the Coalition, Hags, or anything else right now. “It might be nothing at all.”

“Nothing my cherry-red lipstick,” she quipped. “If that circle was dead it means she’s gone. Or something dreadful has happened. Leave it to those wenches to not contact me. I’m her only living, breathing relative—and, oh my goodness, Maggie! Listen, Jess, I’ll take care of things on your end, expect a plane out in less than twelve hours from whatever landing strip is closest to you. And I’ll call the front desk as soon as I hang up, but I need to get on this. I’ll contact you as soon as I can.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “And Marcy?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s great to hear your voice.”

“Of course it is, because it’s getting your rump out of Rum Cay.”

Dad, can you hear me?

Nothing.

Tyler, are you back yet?

Nothing.

I slammed my fist into the pillow in frustration. It broke on impact and feathers burst into the air like I’d blown the top off a dandelion. “Dammit.” I tossed it on the floor.

“I take it no luck again?” Rourke asked as he tied the complimentary bathrobe around his waist. It barely closed, but it was a big step up from a tablecloth.

We were in the fanciest villa they had, but it had taken Marcy an hour to convince them they’d somehow lost our reservation. I had no idea if she’d used magic, but I didn’t care.

“No, no luck. I wish they’d answer.”

“We need to be patient,” he said. “Tyler is probably back, but too far away for your communication to work. Your dad may be fighting, and we know that takes up brainpower. Not to mention your habit of blocking him.”

“I just hate not knowing.” Marcy hadn’t called us back since we’d arrived in the room and it’d been four restless hours. I’d known when the money transfer had gone through, however, because once it showed up, the staff had bent over backward for us. They’d even brought an assortment of clothes to our room from the resort boutique when we’d loosely explained that our luggage had been somehow stolen.

Rourke had looked delicious in the white linen pants, but he refused to wear them, preferring the robe. I had on new capri pants and a navy blue T-shirt. It was the best combat outfit they had, seeing as I couldn’t fight in a sundress.

Rourke strode over and opened the double doors to our massive balcony, which jutted right over clear sapphire water. “I want you to try to enjoy the last few hours left of any real downtime we’ve ever had. If I had my way, you’d be sleeping right now. Well”—he paused to glance back at me with a grin—“after some nice, relaxing one-on-one time.” His voice had turned throaty and it sent chills racing up my spine. “And a long soak in that double Jacuzzi.”

I rubbed my arms. “That does sound like heaven. I guess there’s no harm in considering this a honeymoon of sorts—”

There was a whooshing noise and half a beat later Naomi landed cleanly on the balcony in front of the open door, her familiar voice chiming in, “Ma Reine, I am glad to see you. I hope I am not interrupting anything.” She stood with her hands crossed demurely in front of her, like she hadn’t just flown over the ocean to find me.

“Naomi!” I cried as I jumped out of bed and ran to hug her. Rourke scowled as I raced by, but I knew he was as relieved as I was to see her. “Of course you’re not interrupting anything. It’s good to see you again.” I pulled her into my arms.

She hugged me back tentatively, clearly not used to physical affection. “Marcy sent me here as soon as I returned from the Coven,” she said. “I’ve brought you your things.” She slipped off a small backpack and handed it to me. “Along with some other incidentals Marcy thought you might need. There is no airstrip here, so you are booked out on the five a.m. ferry. It will take you to a bigger island, where a plane will be waiting.”

I set the backpack on the ground and unzipped it, my eyebrow rising as I immediately spotted a scrap of material no bigger than a hanky sitting on top. I drew it out on my index finger to reveal a pink, lacy thong. Naomi blushed. “She felt… you might need, and these are her words, ‘to put some sexy back in your life after being forced to wear those awful fatigues.’ ” A pink thong was indeed better than witch fatigues, and most definitely better than a demon jumpsuit.