I turned back toward the shore, where a contingent of prison guards had already gathered to escort us to the main gates. Morales was wrong to assume it was the distant past that had me worried. Instead it was more recent events—just six weeks earlier to be exact—when I betrayed my family and my team by cooking a dirty potion and then covering up the secrets the magic had whispered in my ear.
“Kate?” Morales called from the dock. I shook myself, realizing he’d exited the ferry without me noticing. I raised my chin and climbed out of the boat without accepting his offered hand. If Abe had invited me to my doom, I damned sure was going to go down fighting.
The guard showed me into a white room. A single white table with a chair on either side. There was also a pane of two-way mirrored glass next to the door, so we could be observed. There were no handles on the interior of that door. Prison guards waited on the other side to open it if there was trouble. Two fluorescent bulbs buzzed overhead behind steel cages. But mostly the room was just a white box.
Before I’d been allowed in, they’d made me empty my pockets and check in any Arcane substances or magic defense weapons. I didn’t balk at any of these demands. An alchemical wizard as powerful as Abraxas Prospero could MacGyver a magical weapon from little more than some pocket lint and a discarded paper clip.
He stood in the dead center with his hands bound at his waist, his ankles chained, and his back ramrod-straight. His jumpsuit was blinding orange, like a street sign warning of a need for extreme caution. His white hair was combed neatly back, and his sharp blue eyes glinted like shards of glass behind simple wire-framed glasses. To someone who’d never met him before, he’d probably look like a mild-mannered accountant or someone’s grandpa. But I knew him better than most, and was well acquainted with the monster that lurked under that placid facade.
“Katie Girl.” Hearing my name so casual on his lips took me back to a time when I was small and he seemed larger than life. Even bound and trapped in prison, he exuded a power that made memories rise up to haunt me like hostile spirits.
“Detective Prospero,” I corrected in an even tone.
Those X-ray eyes narrowed, as if I’d taken him off guard for the first time in my life. “My, my—look how far you’ve come.”
I raked a scornful gaze down the jumpsuit and simple canvas sneakers on his feet. “And look how far you’ve fallen.”
“Smart to attack my vanity.” He chuckled, but the sound was more menacing than amused. “I trained you well.”
“You didn’t train me to attack at all, Abe. You taught me to take orders like a good girl.”
He raised a single steely brow. “Fat lot of good that did me, eh?”
I ignored that and sauntered toward the table. “You look like shit, Abe. The prison chow not agreeing with you?” It was true. He looked thinner. Not more fragile, but sharper, like a blade.
“If I look poorly, it’s because I’m troubled over recent events.” He shuffled toward the table, making his chains scrape against the concrete. He settled himself in his chair before continuing. “How is dear Danny?”
I froze. If my name on his lips made me uncomfortable, listening to that poison mouth uttering my little brother’s sent a spike of icy fear and hot anger through my core. “Better now, no thanks to Ramses Bane.”
Abe’s eyes narrowed and shifted toward the two-way mirror behind the table, where Morales watched our conversation. I could practically feel him trying to puzzle whether I knew of his own connection to Bane’s crimes. “I assure you,” he said lightly, “Ramses Bane is no friend of mine.”
A quick flare of relief sparked in my chest. He’d decided to wait for me to outright accuse him of being involved. Which, of course, I’d never do with Drew Morales—or any member of my team—listening.
“Whatever alliance Bane and I had in the distant past,” Abe said, “was severed when he went after my blood.”
“I’m relieved to hear that,” I said in a flat tone.
He could try to distance himself from Bane’s blunders all he wanted, but I’d never forget the role he played in concocting the plan to begin with. Still, best to let him believe I wasn’t holding that grudge. At least until it benefited me to do so. Guess the old man had taught me a few lessons that stuck, after all.
“Although I must admit,” he continued with a heavy sigh, “I was disappointed to hear Bane didn’t manage to rid the world of that traitor John Volos.”
I could practically feel him trying to bore into my head. I might be intimidated by the man, but I knew better than to invite an emotional vampire like him inside. “I’m surprised to hear that, Uncle. After all, without Volos’s discovering the key to the antipotion, Danny would have died. Ironic, no?”
“Volos rarely helps anyone without expecting a boon in return, niece.” He leaned forward and pointed a finger. “Remember that.”
“What I remember is you’re the one who taught him that lesson.”
“True enough.” He dipped his chin. “Tell me, Katherine, how did you reward him for his help?”
There was a challenge there, and also, I thought, an accusation. One I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of answering. I leaned back and crossed my arms. “Why am I here today?”
I watched him quickly file my evasion away to analyze later. Instead of answering my question, Abe leaned to his side with a sly smile. “You still smoke?”
I shook my head. “Quit when I was twenty.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Impressive. I’ve never been able to kick the habit, myself.”
I shrugged. “It was a breeze compared with giving up cooking.”
Those lips pressed together in a thin line. “You say that like you’re proud of turning your back on magic, but you ask me, it was the worst decision you ever made.”
I laughed out loud. “Says the man in prison for magical crimes.”
A thundercloud passed behind his eyes. Abe cleared his throat, and the threat of a storm passed quickly. “Don’t suppose you could rustle up a coffin nail for your old uncle?”
I stared him down for a few seconds. Part of me wanted to tell him I wasn’t his damned errand girl or nicotine dealer. But I also knew he’d never share his bombshell until I’d jumped through some hoops. “Hold on.”
I went to the door and knocked, sure to keep my body turned to the side so I could keep on eye on Abe the whole time. Not that I expected him to attack me physically—mental anguish was more his style—but you could never be too careful. The door opened, and I found Morales standing on the other side. He shoved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter through the crack. “You okay?”