"I have my moments." I leaned forward and pushed the knife to her. "Keep it. Wolfsbane, too. You'll need it, since you'll be staying at the Keep."
Julie eyed the knife. "What's the catch?"
I sighed. "No catch. I put you into that school because it was a good place. A safe place." Julie shook her head, sending the blond hair flying. "I don't want to be safe. I want to stay with you."
"I've gathered that. Curran and I are looking into schools in the city. There are a couple that might be a better fit. You'll stay in your room at the Keep, ride into the city with me when possible, and go to school. When done, you'll come back to the office and someone will take you back to the Keep. You will be good and you won't take any stupid chances. While you're at the office, you're my slave. You'll run errands, clean the place, work out, file ..."
Julie came over and hugged me. I hugged her back. We stayed like that for a long moment, until the door swung open downstairs and Andrea walked inside, asking why the place stank of wolfsbane.
Chapter 15
BY NOON, RAGGED CLOUDS FLOODED THE SKY. THE world turned dim and hazy, and as Derek and I approached Champion Heights, the lone tower of the apartment building and the ruined city around it seemed little more than a mirage, knitted from fog and shadows.
Derek scowled at the high-rise. "I hate him."
"I know," I said.
We had three leads, of which Saiman was one. The volhvs were the other. The third lead concerned de Harven and the Keepers. Since we could do nothing about the volhvs, Andrea called Rene, notified her of de Harven's possible secret-society whack-job status, and requested the detailed files on all the Red Guardsmen who'd ever worked with de Harven. Rene had a very controlled fit of apoplexy and promised to deliver the files, with a Red Guardsman who would stand over Andrea as she went over them and take them back when she was done. The plan was for me to go and see Saiman on my own and for Derek to help Andrea look for patterns and possible accomplices.
And that was when both Derek and Andrea dug their heels in.
"No." Andrea nodded for emphasis. "Hell no."
"It's not a good idea," Derek confirmed. "I should go with you."
"You despise Saiman. Why in the world would you want to go with me?"
"Because your rabid honey-bunny and Saiman had a giant fight over you." Andrea spoke slowly, as if to a child. "You said yourself, Saiman's ego is so big, he has to rent a separate building for it. Curran made him run away like a scared rabbit. You have no idea how he'll react when he sees you."
"She's right," Derek said. "It's a safety issue. The office is well protected, so Andrea doesn't need me here. You will be out in the open and two is better than one. Besides, you're alpha."
"And that means what?"
"It means that you must be above reproach and avoid even the appearance of impropriety. Saiman's a degenerate pervert. You should bring an escort."
I crossed my arms on my chest. "So I can't be trusted to see him without supervision?"
Andrea shook her head. "Kate, it's not personal. It's protocol and it's common sense. You don't challenge people under you, you don't get to skip formal dinners, and when you go to see an unstable coward who screwed half of Atlanta and propositioned you in public, you bring an escort. Deal with it." "Three weeks ago a woman from the city came to see Curran," Derek said.
"Yes, an attorney about the road. Lydia something." For some reason, Curran had insisted that I needed to attend a boring meeting about the repair of some road owned by the Pack. I hadn't wanted to go, so I'd decided not to cut my workout short. I hadn't realized that he held up the meeting until I deigned to make an appearance, so when I'd walked into the meeting room, almost an hour late, he, Lydia, and the two alphas of Clan Heavy were all patiently waiting for me. Mahon had dosed off, his wife had knitted half a sock, and Lydia had shot me a look of pure hatred. I'd felt like a total moron. The meeting had lasted a total of fifteen minutes and neither I nor the alpha couple of Clan Heavy needed to be there anyway ...
Oh.
The light dawned. "She was one of Curran's ex-girlfriends?"
Derek nodded.
Curran had followed the protocol. I would do the same. "Fine."
Derek nodded again. "I'll get my jacket."
An hour later we stared at Champion Heights, where Saiman made his not-at-all-humble abode. During the magic wave, chunks of the tower would fade into hard red granite, complete with old moss--the result of spells shielding the building from the magic's jaws. Right now it was all brick, mortar, and glass, foreboding and dark.
Neither one of us wanted to go in.
Sitting in the Jeep would accomplish nothing. I parked the vehicle in the tower's parking lot and we climbed the wide concrete stairs to the glass-and-steel entrance. Despite everything that happened, Saiman still hadn't changed the code word. It took us less than a minute to get through security and ride the elevator up to the fifteenth floor. The elevator vomited us up into a hallway lined with criminally luxurious carpet.
Derek's frown had graduated to a full-blown grimace. A furious yellow light sheathed his irises.
"Try to look less disgusted."
He shrugged. "Are you worried I'll offend him?"
"Your eyes are glowing, and your upper lip is trembling like you're about to snarl. I'm worried Saiman will panic, and that door is hard to break. Make an effort to look less deranged and threatening. Think of rainbows and ice cream; it will help."
Derek sighed, but the glow in his eyes dimmed.
I knocked on the door. No answer.
I knocked again.
Nothing.
"He's in there," Derek said. "I can hear him moving."
"I'm deciding if I should let you in," Saiman's smooth voice called through the door. "Our meetings never go well, Kate. You'll forgive me if I'm less than enthusiastic."
"Adam Kamen," I said.
The lock clicked and the door swung open. Saiman wore his neutral form, a bald man of slight build and indeterminable age, somewhere between twenty and fifty. He was a blank canvas, hairless, colorless, without any distinguishing features. If you bumped into him on the street and didn't notice the sharp intelligence stabbing through his eyes, you'd never remember him.
Saiman's face wore a martyred expression. "Come in, come in ..."
I stepped inside and froze. Chaos reigned around me. Usually Saiman's apartment was a highly controlled environment of white rugs, stainless steel furniture, and ultramodern curves. Not a single carpet fiber was out of place. Today the couch held a variety of clothes folded into neat stacks. Wooden crates littered the floor, half-filled with books and linens. The door to Saiman's state-of-the-art laboratory stood wide open, and through the doorway I could see more boxes.