Redemption Song (Daniel Faust #2)(78)

“Oh no,” I said, turning on my heel. “Hell no.”

The twins were all over Pixie, circling her like hyenas on a bleeding gazelle.

“And she has a laptop bag made from environmentally responsible recycled products!” Juliette said.

“Are you a real geek girl?” Justine asked. “Or a fake geek girl? These are important questions!”

I stepped into the fray, gently guiding Pixie away from the front door.

“What the f*ck was that?” Pixie hissed between gritted teeth. Her fist hung clenched at her side, and I had a feeling she’d been one snarky comment away from using it.

“Welcome to my world. Come over this way. Bentley, Corman, this is Pixie. You kinda-sorta already met, when we stole that passcard for the Carmichael-Sterling office. She was in the van, running the show.”

Bentley rose, taking her hand as if he were Rhett Butler. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, miss. All good, I promise.”

“You guys sit with Pix for a second and show her the lay of the land, point out who’s human and who isn’t. I’m going to stop any more potential fights from breaking out.”

Given that we hadn’t even gotten to discussing the plan yet, my grand vision of teamwork was going down like a bird with a missing wing.





Thirty-Eight

By the time I made another circuit of the room—and pointed out Pixie’s arrival to Jennifer, figuring the newbie could do with another familiar face—I found the twins swarming around Melanie.

“You’re so thin,” Juliette cooed. “How do you do it? Anorexia or bulimia?”

I didn’t have to step in this time. Emma strode up behind the twins, grabbed them both by the scruff of the neck, and hoisted them up on their tiptoes. From the looks on their faces and the strangled noises they were making, Emma had her claws out. Literally.

“You don’t talk to my daughter,” Emma said. Her voice was steely calm.

“No,” Juliette squeaked, struggling against her grip. “We don’t! You’re absolutely right! You’re so very right!”

“You are going to go sit in the corner now,” Emma said.

“Right!” Justine said, trying to nod with tears welling up in her eyes. “We were just going to do that. That was our plan all along.”

Emma let them go. They dropped from their toes, wincing and rubbing the backs of their necks. Justine reached for a sandwich, and Emma slapped the back of her hand.

“Corner. Now.”

“Everyone is so mean to us,” Juliette whined as they slunk away.

It was definitely time to get the meeting started.

We’d dragged every chair in the house to the living room, making a ragged semicircle flanking the sofa set. Everyone migrated to distinct camps: the magicians, my family, in a tight cluster on the left along with Pixie; Emma and Melanie sitting front and center on the sofa; and Nicky and the twins off to the far right. I stood next to the easel and felt like a high school kid about to take his first public-speaking class.

Not long after, the doorknob rattled and our final guest arrived. Ben came in, looking sheepish, and hung his raincoat in the hall closet.

“Sorry everybody,” he said. “Work ran late and my computer was on the fritz. This was the fastest I could get back. Did I miss much?”

I shook my head and gestured to the couch. He walked over and sat close to Melanie. Emma leaned in and whispered, giving him a quick who’s who.

“Not at all,” I said. “We’re just getting started.”

I took a deep breath, looking out over the cluster of faces. Some I’d known for years, some I’d just met days ago. I only knew one thing for sure, and it chilled me to the bone.

One of them was a traitor.

At least three times now, Sullivan had been a step ahead of my plans. The answer wasn’t luck or supernatural prowess but something a whole lot simpler: someone was feeding information to the Redemption Choir.

Now I was about to reveal my entire plan to that person.

Here was the trick: that was also part of the plan.

“What about Caitlin?” Nicky called out, and caught a dirty look from Emma.

“She’s…not in on this,” I said. “Let me get started. First, I want to thank you all for coming tonight. Every element of the Vegas occult underground is represented here. We have the magical community, the cambion community—”

“Only the mobbed-up ones,” Bentley muttered, then inclined his head to Melanie. “Yourself excluded of course, young lady.”

Nicky snapped his fingers. “Hey, the mob got run out of Vegas ages ago and you know it, old-timer. I’m an independent businessman. A little respect wouldn’t hurt anybody.”

“Bentley, Nicky, please. And last but not least, representatives of, er—”

“The Southern Tropics Import/Export Company,” Emma said primly. “Be sure to pick up a brochure on the way out. Most of you are going to end up working for us one way or another, so you might as well get a head start and beat the competition.”

“Your retirement plan sucks,” Jennifer drawled.

“Do you have a 401(k) with fully matched contributions?” Ben asked her.

I held up my hands. “Okay, guys, seriously? I know we don’t all get along, but this is about all of us. Every one of you has reason to be worried about the Redemption Choir, the Carmichael-Sterling Group, or both. Every one of you is under threat as long as Sullivan and Lauren Carmichael are still out there. If we want any hope of taking them both down, we have to work together. Just for one night. That’s all I’m asking. One night.”