You would have to be desperate to kidnap the Head of a House. Unless you were also a Prime. Or several Primes connected to a conspiracy behind the attempts to throw the country into a state of unrest so an empire could be created, a new Rome. The people behind it were tired of democracy. They chafed under the accountability and legal constraints that democratic society brought. They were already in positions of power because of their magic and wealth, but it wasn’t enough. They didn’t want to govern with their every step scrutinized; no, they wanted to rule with absolute power, never to be criticized or brought to answer for their offenses under the law. They wanted an empire, led by a modern-age Caesar.

Olivia Charles was one of those people. We’d stumbled onto this conspiracy when Adam Pierce attempted to burn down Houston, trying to destabilize it. When that failed, the conspirators concocted a different, less obvious plan. They engineered the assassination of a US senator, which Olivia Charles and David Howling carried out, and planned to use it to put political pressure on their opposition within the Assembly. When that didn’t work as planned, because Rogan and I interfered, they tried to use the incident to inflame unrest. In the end, both David and Rynda’s mother died for their cause. We still had no idea who Caesar was. Whatever Olivia and Howling knew had died with them.

Olivia Charles had been a pillar of the Houston elite. When she was involved with anything, including the secret conspiracy to overthrow the social order, she ran it. She wouldn’t settle for anything less. It would be beyond naive to cling to the notion that Brian’s kidnapping was an isolated incident, but I had to keep that possibility open. Dad always warned against jumping to conclusions too soon. That’s how mistakes were made, and in our line of business mistakes had real human costs: reputations, marriages, and sometimes lives.

I should check on Rynda. All of this was tying me in knots, and I was a stranger. Her husband had been kidnapped. In her place, I’d be losing my mind. I picked up my phone and dialed Rynda’s cell.

Ring.

Another ring.

Ring.

Something was wrong.

Ring.

Ring.

You’ve reached Rynda Sherwood. Please leave a message after the tone.

Shit. I jumped up and marched to the front of the office, where I’d left my spare sneakers in the break room.

“What’s wrong?” Cornelius asked from his desk.

I kicked off my shiny pumps and pulled the old shoes onto my feet. “Rynda isn’t answering her cell.”

“Perhaps she didn’t hear it ring,” Cornelius said.

“It’s the number Brian’s kidnappers used for their ransom calls. That phone is the most important thing in her life right now. She would have it on her at all times.” And I was the person she had trusted to fix it. She would take my call.

Cornelius got up and grabbed his jacket.

I sped down I-10. The beltway had been clogged all to hell, and the I-10 was a nightmare, but this time of day the surface streets were even worse. There were about eleven miles between our warehouse and Rynda’s house and I was driving like a maniac.

Cornelius took his cell from his ear. “Still no answer.”

We’d called Rynda three times in the last two minutes.

“Please try Edward Sherwood.”

“No answer on his cell.”

“Try BioCore.”

If people would just get out of my way, we could be there in fifteen minutes.

“I’m trying to reach Edward Sherwood,” Cornelius said into his cell. “It’s an emergency concerning his sister-in-law.”

A white truck cut me off. I braked, avoiding slamming into its back by two inches.

“Cornelius Harrison. She’s in danger. . . . I’m a Significant of a House. I’m telling you that the wife of the Head of your House is in danger. Do your duty and send assistance.”

Cornelius glared at the phone, incredulous. “Edward already left, and this idiot says he has orders to keep me from entering the building. He hung up on me.”

The traffic parted in front of me and I strong-armed my way into the right lane. We tore down I-10 and took the Wirt Road exit, flying through it like a bullet. I made a sharp right onto Memorial Drive and raced down the street. Trees flew past us, dark creepy shadows in the early night.

I pressed the voice button on my steering wheel and pronounced each word clearly. “Call. Rogan.”

My phone, tethered to the car’s stereo, obediently dialed Rogan’s number.

Ring.

Please answer.

Ring . . .

“Yes?”

“Rynda isn’t answering her phone.”

He swore. “Where are you?”

“Two minutes from her house.”

“Who’s with you?”

“Cornelius.”

Rogan swore again. “Why didn’t you take backup?”

“What backup, Rogan? Edward isn’t answering his cell either.”

“I have twelve people in my HQ.”

“They’re your people. I can’t just walk up to them and order them around.”

How exactly did he think that would work? Hi, I’m Rogan’s girlfriend, I need you to come risk your lives for his ex-fiancée whom you didn’t want to let into your base before . . . Yes, they would drop everything and rush right over. They were his people, not mine. They had no loyalty to me.

There was a pause. “I’m on my way. My people will be coming to back you up. Be careful. Don’t charge in there and get killed.”

The line went dead.

I made a left onto Rynda’s long, winding driveway. The headlights plucked a prone body in a Sherwood Security uniform from the darkness. He was sprawled across the driveway, hands outstretched. Something crouched over him, something furry, with a hunched-over back and paws that looked like hands with fingers and long claws. It glanced up. Two pairs of watery yellow eyes glared at me, set one under another on a nightmarish face above a mouth filled with a forest of needlelike deep-water teeth. Wet, bloody flesh hung from its jaws.

I rammed it. The armored CR-V slammed into the body, crushing the creature. The impact reverberated through the car. A wet thud hit the undercarriage. Something scratched at the metal. I slammed on the brakes, reversed, and backed over it. Bones crunched. I stomped on the gas pedal and we rolled over it again. If it was still alive, it wasn’t happy. I sped forward.

“Was that a summon?” I asked.

Cornelius swallowed, his light eyes opened wide.

“Cornelius?”

“Yes.”

A summoner mage had reached deep into the arcane realm and pulled that thing out and nobody knew how many more. Average and Notable level summoners could summon a creature but it vanished the moment they lost focus. Significants could summon several, and when Primes reached into the arcane realm, whatever they brought back stayed in our world permanently until they banished it back. Rogan and I had come up against summoned creatures before. They were hard to kill. I should’ve checked on Rynda sooner.

The front door stood wide open, spilling warm yellow light onto two bodies crumpled in the doorway. A man and a woman, their green uniforms stained with red. Something had eaten their lips and ears.

I slid the CR-V as close to the door as I could, shut off the engine and the lights, popped the glove compartment open, and grabbed my Baby Desert Eagle and a spare magazine. Twenty-four shots. I had my backup Sig in there too.

“Cornelius, have you ever fired a gun?”

“No. I don’t feel comfortable with guns.”

Scratch that idea. The last thing I needed was him getting uncomfortable and shooting me in the back by accident.

“There are seven creatures in the house,” Cornelius said. “I feel them moving.”

“This is an armored car. You’re safe here.”

“I’m not staying behind. I have to at least try to be useful.”

“I thought animal mages had no power over summoned creatures.”

“I never tried to make friends with one.”

“I don’t think they want to make friends.” I was pretty sure they wanted to kill us and devour our corpses.

“I’d like to come,” Cornelius said. His mouth was a thin firm line. His jaw muscles were locked. His gaze was direct. I knew that look. I’d seen it before on Rogan, Leon, and my own father. It was the look of a male who’d made up his mind and would not allow logic, reason, or arguments to interfere with his chosen course of action. If I left him in the car, he would follow me. I couldn’t really stop him and I had no time to argue.