Spellcasters (39 page)

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Authors: Kelley Armstrong

BOOK: Spellcasters
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“A cell phone?” Leah said when he finished the call. “Jesus, Friesen. He’s in the next room.”

“Standard communication procedure. Mr. Nast wants to see them immediately.”

The man—Friesen—moved into the light and I recognized him as the “paramedic” who’d helped me out of the burning house. Early thirties, dirty blond brush cut, with the oversized build of a quarterback and the misshapen face of a boxer.

But who was Nast? I should have known, but my brain wouldn’t focus any better than my eyes. I repeated the name in my head, my stomach clenching with each iteration. Nast was … wrong. Someone I didn’t want to meet. My gut told me that. But …

“My throat hurts,” Savannah said.

“We’ll get you a cold drink in a sec, kiddo,” Leah said. “You just lie there and relax.”

Savannah. Nast. The connection fired. Savannah’s father. Kristof Nast.

Oh, God.

“Sa—Savannah?” I managed, struggling to my feet. “I have to ta—talk to you, hon.”

“No talking,” Friesen said. “Mr. Nast will want her to save her energy.”

I made it to Savannah’s bed and sat down on the edge. I had to swallow several times before my throat would open. “Nast is—” I stopped, realizing I couldn’t just blurt it out. She needed to know more. “Kristof Nast. He’s a sorcerer. He’s the head … no, the son of the head of the Nast Cabal.”

She blinked. “Like Lucas?”

“No, not like Lucas.” At the mention of Cortez’s name, I remembered the last time I’d seen him, crawling behind me in the burning house. I hadn’t seen him get out. Had they—? Oh, God. I swallowed hard and tried not to think of that. “The Nast Cabal—”

“Enough,” Leah said. “If you haven’t told her by now, we should leave it for a surprise. Do you like surprises, Savannah?”

Savannah glared at her. “Don’t talk to me.”

“Savannah, there’s something else—” I began.

“Nope,” Leah said, grabbing my shoulders and propelling me off the bed. “It’s gonna be a surprise. Trust me, kiddo, you’re gonna love this one. You’ve hit the genetic jackpot.”

Before I could argue, Friesen lifted Savannah up, ignoring her protests, and took her from the room. Leah followed. I stood there, staring at the partly open door, waiting for it to close. A moment later, Leah popped her head back in.

“Those drugs make you stupid, girl?” she said. “Come on.”

I only looked at her.

“I told them they OD’d on the stuff,” she said. “What are you waiting for? Shackles and chains? You aren’t a prisoner here. Nast wanted to talk to Savannah and this was the only way he figured he could do it.”

“So … so I can leave here? I’m free to go?”

“Oh, sure.” She grinned. “If you don’t mind leaving Savannah behind.”

She disappeared. I followed.

Nast may have been “in the next room” as Leah said, but he must have decided to hold the meeting elsewhere because we headed downstairs, taking a circuitous route to the living room.

During the walk, my mind cleared. My head and throat still felt like they were stuffed with cotton, but at least I could think and take in my surroundings. We were in a house. A farmhouse, judging by the vista outside the windows. The windows were unbarred, some even propped open. We passed a front and side door and neither Leah nor her partner so much as glanced back to see if I’d make a break for it. They didn’t need to. As long as they had Savannah, I wasn’t going anywhere.

Any hope that I could still tell Savannah about Nast vanished when we walked into the living room. Sandford stood by the fireplace. Seated next to him was a tall man with thinning blond hair and broad shoulders. As we entered, he turned and smiled, and I found myself looking into an exact replica of Savannah’s big blue eyes. My heart dropped and I knew then that Kristof Nast was indeed Savannah’s father.

“Savannah,” he said. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

“Tell this guy to let me go!” She wriggled, trying to get free. “Put me down.
Now!

Nast waved for Friesen to release Savannah. “My apologies, princess.” He chuckled and glanced at Sandford. “Still any doubt she’s mine?”

“I’m not yours,” Savannah said, pulling her shirt into place. “Not yours. Not hers.” She jabbed a finger at Leah. “Not anyone’s. Now take me home or there’s going to be trouble.”

“Savannah, hon,” I said. “I need to tell you something. Remember I was telling you about Kristof Nast—”

“This is him?” Her gaze raked over Nast, dismissing him with a snort. “He’s the CEO’s son? He’s what, fifty? By the time he takes over, he’ll be ready to retire.”

“I’m forty-seven, actually,” Nast said with an indulgent smile. “But I take your point. All the better for you, then, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t what?”

“If I’m so old. All the quicker to get your inheritance.”

“Why? What are you, sorcerer? My mom’s lawyer?”

Nast looked at me. “You haven’t told her?”

“Savannah,” I said. “This is—”

“I’m your father,” Nast said.

He smiled and reached for Savannah. She jumped back, arms flying up to ward him off. She looked from me to Nast, then back to me. “That’s not funny,” she said.

“Savannah, I—” I began.

“No one’s joking, Savannah,” Nast said. “I know this must come as a shock, but you are my daughter. Your mother—”

“No,” she said, voice quiet. She turned to me. “You would have told me, right?”

“I—” I shook my head. “I’m so sorry, hon. We don’t know for sure. Mr. Nast claims he’s your father. I couldn’t believe that. I wanted proof before I told you.”

Nast laid a hand on Savannah’s arm. When she flung him off, he bent to her height.

“I know you’re angry, princess. This wasn’t how I planned this. I thought you knew.”

“I … I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t have to. Now that we’ve moved beyond human courts, we can clear this up with a simple blood test. I’ve arranged for our doctors to conduct the test as soon as we get back to California.”

“California?” Savannah said. “I can’t—I’m not—I won’t go. I won’t.”

“My apologies, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m not taking you anywhere against your will, Savannah. This isn’t a kidnapping. I’m sorry I had to resort to such drastic measures to get you here, but I feared it was the only way Paige would allow me to present my case.”

“Case?” she said.

“For custody.”

She looked from me to him. “We’re going to court?”

He laughed. “No, thank God. I’ve decided to circumvent the horrors of the legal system. No human judge can decide where you belong, Savannah. No person can decide that. It’s your life and it should be your decision.”

“Good. Then I’m staying with Paige.”

“Don’t I get to argue my side? Paige has had nearly a year to make her case. Surely you can grant me thirty minutes to make mine. That’s all I ask, princess. Thirty minutes to explain why you should stay with me.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Then you’re free to go back to East Falls with Paige.”

“Bullshit,” I said.

Nast looked up, startled, as if the walls had spoken. When he turned to me, his gaze focused somewhere above my head, as if I was literally beneath his notice.

“You doubt my word, Paige?” All indulgent humor drained from his voice. “I’m a Nast. My word is inviolable.”

I felt the weight of Savannah’s gaze on me. In that moment, I realized what I had to do. I had to shut my mouth. Nast was right. This was her choice. Coven or Cabal. White magic or dark. If I swayed her decision, I’d always feel the pull of the other side working against me. Let her hear what Nast was offering and she’d see that Eve had made the right decision in sending her to the Coven. Though I doubted Nast would let her leave that easily, I’d jump that hurdle when it came. If I dragged her out kicking and screaming, I’d lose her forever.

Before stating his case, Nast insisted on feeding us. He’d ordered pizza. He even had a delivery guy bring it, further underscoring the point that we weren’t being held captive at some top-secret location.

Though Leah and Friesen shared in our meal, Nast looked at the pizza as if expecting the mushrooms to start crawling. He assured us, as if we cared, that he’d be eating lunch later, at a business meeting in Boston.

So we were still in Massachusetts? As I thought this, I realized he’d said lunch, not dinner or supper. With that came the shock that we’d slept through Wednesday and had been gone now nearly twenty-four hours. Again, I thought of Cortez, but I knew there was no sense asking. They’d only tell us what we wanted to hear.

“Can we get started?” Savannah said. “The pizza’s great and all that, but I want to get this over with.”

Nast nodded. “First, let me say that your mother was a remarkable woman and I loved her very much. It just … it didn’t work out for us. After you were born, she asked me to stay away, so I did, but I always planned to be part of your life someday. With your mother’s death, that’s happened earlier than I expected.”

“How come she never mentioned you to me?”

“I have no idea, Savannah.”

“Get on with your case, then, so I can go home.”

Nast reclined without putting a single rumple in his suit. “Well, I hardly know where to start. Do you understand how a Cabal is organized?”

“Sort of.”

Nast gave her a quick rundown, concentrating on the importance of the head sorcerer family. “As my daughter, you would be an important part of that family, with all the rights and privileges that entails.”

“May I ask a question?” I said.

“I don’t think—”

“It’s a reasonable question,” I said. “I’m not challenging or disagreeing with anything. I just want to clarify a point. As I understand it, sorcerers typically have only sons, meaning Savannah would be the only girl—or woman—in the family. How would that impact her position?”

“It wouldn’t.” Nast paused, then said, “Let me expand on that. I want to be completely forthcoming with you, Savannah. Within our Cabal, the Nast family’s power is absolute. If we say you are to be accepted, you will be. Now, as regards matters of succession, there would likely be some dispute over whether you could inherit leadership. However, that point is moot. I have two very capable sons, and the oldest has already been named as my heir.”

“So what do I get?” she asked.

“Everything else.” He shifted forward, leaning toward her. “I’m a very wealthy, very powerful man, Savannah. One who can give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I’m sure Paige has done her best, but she can’t offer you the advantages I can. More than money, Savannah. I’m talking about opportunity. Access to the best tutors, the best spellbooks, the best materials.”

“Sure. In return for my immortal soul. I’m not a dumb little kid, sorcerer. I know why you grabbed me. Because of the ceremony.”

My heart shot into my throat and I motioned her to silence.

“It’s quite all right, Paige. We’ve been aware of Savannah’s menses since yesterday morning.”

“Before you grabbed us?” I said. “Who told you?”

“We can discuss that later. The point is—”

“The point is,” Savannah said. “That you grabbed me so you can change the ceremony and make me a Cabal slave.”

“Cabal slave?” Nast laughed. “Is that what Paige told you?”

“It wasn’t Paige.”

“Ah, Lucas, I presume. Well, as much as I respect the Cortezes, I must say that Lucas Cortez is a very confused young man. He’s had some … unfortunate experiences with Cabal life and has formed some rather wild opinions. As for the ceremony—”

“Wait,” Savannah said. “I want to know about Lucas first. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Savannah. Now—”

“What happened to him?”

“We delayed his escape, but not unduly. Last time we saw Lucas, he was in the hands of the paramedics. Unconscious from smoke inhalation, but otherwise uninjured.”

As he spoke, Savannah kept darting concerned glances at me, taking in my reaction. Gabriel Sandford followed those glances with interest.

“So you didn’t hurt him?” she said.

“Harming Lucas Cortez would cause a diplomatic incident of epic proportions. Killing him would start a blood feud the likes of which the Cabals haven’t seen in over a century. A Cabal son has absolute immunity. That’s what I’m offering you, Savannah. You’ll never need to hide again.”

He paused, checking to see if he had her full attention now. He did.

“About the ceremony,” he continued. “Yes, there is a version that enhances a witch’s employability in a Cabal, though it’s a far cry from enslavement. You won’t undergo that, though. There are several other ceremonies you can choose from—”

“I want the one Paige was going to do. The one my mother wanted.”

“Done.”

She blinked, then recovered and sat straighter. “And I want Paige to do it. No one else.”

“Done.” Nast stood and crossed the room to sit beside her. “I’m your father, Savannah. I want what’s best for you and, in matters of witchcraft, I trust your mother’s judgment. If you wish to have a more experienced witch perform the ceremony, I’ll provide that. But if you want Paige, that’s fine. She can stay with you until next Wednesday and she’ll perform the ceremony your mother chose for you.”

“Then what will happen to Paige? After the ceremony?”

“She’ll be free to go.”

Savannah slanted me a look. “What if I don’t want her to go?”

Nast hesitated. “I’m sure Paige has her own responsibilities with the Coven—”

“They kicked her out. They’re all stupid and useless. She’s too good for them anyway. If I stay, Paige stays. She can be my tutor.”

“No offense to Paige, but we have far superior teachers of witchcraft.”

“Then she’ll be my companion or my nanny or something. That’s what rich kids have, isn’t it? Servants? I want Paige. She stays with me and she gets to learn everything I learn.”

“I don’t think—”

“Package deal,” Savannah said. “Take it or leave it.”

He took it.

C
HAPTER
42
M
R
. N
AST’S
W
ITCH

“I
didn’t mean it,” Savannah said after we’d returned to our bedroom, which had now been equipped with a working light. “About the servant part. I was just saying that.”

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