Wildfire (Hidden Legacy #3)(30)

Rogan’s people stabilized Edward, moved all of us into the upstairs living room, which was free of the nasty-smelling corpses, assigned a man with a Beretta tactical shotgun to guard us, established a perimeter, and began a systematic sweep of the house and the grounds. Cornelius and his new pet went to help.

While they did that, I called home, told Bern what happened, and then did a quick search on Vincent Harcourt. Vincent, the only son and heir apparent of House Harcourt, Prime, Summonitor, which was the official term for summoner mages. No convictions, no criminal records, worth around fifty million dollars. Summoning didn’t have great applications in the real world, but the Harcourts clearly had done well for themselves.

Rynda held Edward’s hand until the paramedics took him away.

“He’ll make it,” Daniela said. “The damage wasn’t significant. The main danger is infection.”

“Thank you,” I told her.

She squinted at me.

Dr. Arias and I didn’t see eye to eye. She’d tried to warn me that my relationship with Rogan was a very bad idea, and I didn’t listen to her advice. I’d also threatened her. Considering that Daniela was at least eight inches taller than me and built like a woman who could stop a horse in full gallop by grabbing it, in retrospect, threatening her wasn’t one of my wiser decisions. But I wanted to be with Rogan and I wouldn’t let anybody stop me.

And he was still missing in action. Worry gnawed at me.

“Is any of that blood yours?” Daniela asked.

“Some.”

“So you have an open wound and you’re covered in blood from the arcane realm.”

“Yes.”

“Were you planning on letting me know about it?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Right now.” She would kill me for sure.

“How is it that nobody else has any blood on them?”

“Uh . . .”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a giant bottle of water and another of alcohol sanitizer. “Let’s see it.”

I hiked up my dress. Three bright scratches tore across my left thigh. “Just scratches. Also shoulders.” I was pretty sure the claws had punctured me.

Daniela sighed and got out a syringe sealed in plastic and a vial.

“What is that?”

“Antivenin. The creatures secrete venom on their claws. Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“It should.” She tore the plastic off the syringe and stabbed it into the vial through the seal on top. “It will hurt in about ten minutes if the venom is neutralized.”

It hurt like someone stabbed me with a hot poker. My thigh was on fire. My shoulders burned. It took her about fifteen minutes to thoroughly sanitize my wounds and seal them with a skin adhesive. None of it was deep, but it hurt like hell.

Then she started cleaning my hands and legs. By the time I was released, I felt like I was scrubbed with one of those green scouring pads used to get dried-on crust out of pans. My skin was clean. My dress was another story. There was no way to expose the shoulders without taking it off completely. We had to cut it. That hurt almost as much as the antivenin.

“Done,” Daniela said.

“Thank you.”

She squinted at me again.

I got up and moved to where Rynda and the children sat on the love seat. The kids were curled up around her. Kyle had finally fallen asleep. She’d covered him with a blanket. Jessica was almost there too, her face sleepy, her eyes closing, tucked into the corner of the couch.

I sat across from them on a footstool, trying not to wince. Rynda glanced at me. She looked like she’d been through hell and back.

“Walk me through it,” I told her.

“Right now?”

“Yes, please.”

“We were getting ready for bed. I went to use the bathroom and while I was in there, Jessica came and told me that Kyle ran away. We started looking for him. That was when Edward arrived.”

Her voice broke. She sniffled.

“He wanted to apologize. He felt bad, because he thought Brian was just off on one of his hiding sprees. He helped me look for Kyle. We found him in Brian’s office. He refused to go to bed, because he wanted to wait until his daddy got home. I heard gunfire downstairs, so I locked the door. Then one of those things went through the window. Edward grabbed a chair and hit it. It ripped into him and then he collapsed on the floor. Then Vincent came.”

Truth. “Who is Vincent?” I already knew, but it didn’t hurt to have her take on it.

“Vincent Harcourt of House Harcourt. We went to school together. He was a bully and he grew up into a despicable bastard.”

“That’s a bad word,” Jessica said, her voice sleepy.

Rynda kissed her hair. “He is a very bad man.”

“What did he want?”

“A file. He wanted one of my mother’s files. I told him I don’t have any of her files. The estate is still in probate. I don’t even have access to her house. He didn’t believe me. He said he knew for sure I had the file.”

“Do you have any idea what he might be talking about?”

She shook her head. “No. He had one of those things snap its teeth an inch from my children’s necks. I would’ve given him everything.”