Shit.
My stomach sank to the bottom of the earth as worry crawled over my skin like a spider. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay.
This cell was no problem.
Being captive was no problem.
My sisters not picking up their comms charms—even just to scream at me that they were busy?—that was a possible problem.
I sucked in another ragged breath and muttered, “Suck it up, buttercup.”
The sound of a fight echoed from somewhere else in the building. Then a muffled scream.
I surged upright, grabbing the bars and trying to get a peek. My heart thundered.
What was going on?
Then the Cats of Catastrophe strolled into view. Princess Snowflake III had blood streaked from her mouth all the way down her white chest. The diamond nestled in her fur looked more like a ruby.
Whoever had just been screaming had clearly gotten on the wrong side of her.
Bojangles was gallivanting around, while Muffin strode straight to the cell, Snowflake following at his heels. He meowed loudly, and Bojangles’s head jerked up. He followed Muffin into my cell, all three cats slipping through the bars.
Quickly, they took up position. Princess Snowflake III stood near the door’s lock, then Bojangles jumped on her back. Muffin completed the pyramid by jumping onto Bojangles. He then stuck his skinny, hairless tail into the large keyhole and wiggled it around some.
The lock clicked, and the door swung open.
“Wow. Thanks, guys.”
They meowed.
“Is this how you run your jewel heists?”
Princess Snowflake III shot me a look to suggest that those were much more sophisticated operations.
Muffin meowed. This is child’s play.
“Sorry.” I held up my hands. “Didn’t mean to offend.”
I peered out. “You guys have any idea where the spell is? Or another prisoner?”
All three shook their heads.
“Then let’s get searching.”
I stuck to the shadows in the wine cellar, hiding behind barrels and large, unrecognizable machines. I had to assume they made wine, and that the operation was pretty enormous, given the size of this place. I was about to search a smaller room when my comms charm blared to life.
“Ana?” a voice whispered.
“Bree! Are you okay?”
“Yeah, little beat up. But okay.”
“Rowan?”
“Good too. And Lachlan.”
How had she known that I was about to ask about him? Sister intuition, no doubt.
“There were no casualties, though there were some mean injuries,” she continued. “Ali will be out for a while, but he’ll recover. Now where are you?”
“You can’t find me using the tracking charms?” It’d helped her rescue me before, when I’d been abducted by a miserable mob boss out to steal my blood for some kind of horrible spell.
“There’s a shield where you are. Powerful magic. It’s totally blocking the tracking charm.”
No surprise. Should have thought of that when I jumped through that portal.
“Damn it, Ana. It was too dangerous!” Rowan’s voice piped in.
“I’m fine, guys. They caught me, but I escaped.”
“Damn right you did,” Bree said. “That’s what Blackwoods do.”
“And now we’re going to rescue you,” Rowan said. “Where are you?”
“A massive vineyard with a very big manor house on a hill.”
“Tuscany, perhaps,” Lachlan said. He must’ve been speaking very close to the charm around someone’s neck.
“I’ll find a way to tell you more precisely,” I said.
“This is one of those times where it’d be handy if you had a cell phone,” Bree said.
“True.” We’d never been able to afford the things, and now that we had jobs with real salaries—even trainees at the Academy got a little stipend—I found I didn’t want a cell. Buuuut it’d be real handy to pop open the GPS on one of those babies right about now. “I’ll find one. Then I’ll look for Lachlan’s friend and the spell.”
“Give us your location first.” Worry sounded in Lachlan’s voice. “You’ll never manage alone.”
“Burn,” I muttered.
“Just be careful,” he said.
I still thought I detected a bit of worry, but that wasn’t something I should even care about anyway.
“Bye, guys,” I said. “I’ll get you coordinates soon.”
I touched the charm to disengage the magic, then re-scouted my surroundings. Still quiet, thank fates. Bojangles was trying to break into a cask of wine, and it looked like he was about to be successful. As soon as he pulled that massive cork out of the side of the barrel, he’d go flying when the wine shot out.
“Bojangles, quit!”
At that second, he managed to dislodge the cork. As expected, a powerful stream of red wine came gushing out. Still clinging to the giant cork, Bojangles went flying across the room.
Crap!
Princess Snowflake III and Muffin rushed over to the wine and began lapping it up. Muffin looked like a regular at a shady bar, and Princess Snowflake III was a real sight with her bloodstained chest and red-wine-covered face.
“No getting wasted!” I hissed. “We have a job to do.”
Princess Snowflake III gave me an annoyed look, but Muffin stopped drinking. On the other side of the room, Bojangles was covered in red wine, but he didn’t look like he minded.
“Come on!” I raced away from the scene of destruction, hoping that no one had heard the barrel pop.
About forty feet away, I found another hiding spot behind a giant machine of unexplainable usage. The cats followed me over.
“I need to find a cell phone,” I whispered. “You guys are thieves. Can you sniff one out?”
Muffin gave me a disdainful look. Sniff out a cell phone?
“Is that not how it works?”
We’re not bloodhounds. We’re internationally acclaimed jewel thieves.
I frowned. “Fine. Let’s go.”
I crept between the barrels, searching for a guard or a demon or anyone, really. The wine cellar was an ancient, stone-lined labyrinth, and a few times I found other cells built into nooks and crannies in the wall.
“Multipurpose, huh?” I muttered to the cats as we snuck around a section of smaller barrels. “Make some wine, torture some prisoners!”
A few minutes later, I came to a door. There was a little window set into the wood. I didn’t dare stick my head up there, in case someone was looking. My head was way too big.
I looked down at the cats, then grabbed Muffin and picked him up. “You look, okay?”
He flattened his ears down, and I raised him up. He peeked briefly, then squirmed wildly. Demon!
Oh crap!
I drew my sword from the ether and yanked the door open. Princess Snowflake III leapt onto the demon’s belly, claws outstretched. Surprise flared in his eyes as he raised the blade clutched in his fist.
Fast as I could, I stabbed my sword through his neck, ducking to avoid the blood spray. It splattered on the wall behind me. At this range, I’d have preferred a less messy chest shot, but he couldn’t be allowed to scream.
He collapsed, Princess Snowflake III riding him down to the ground like he was a sinking ship. She leapt off at the last moment, clearly not wanting to eat him. Which I was grateful for.
Eat him? Muffin looked at me like I was insane.
Princess Snowflake III ignored me.
There was no one else in the little room, thank fates. Small and stone-lined, it seemed to be some kind of storage space for special bottles.
I dropped to my knees at the demon’s side and patted his pockets, praying that he’d been on earth a long time. Long enough to want a cell phone. Not that he could get one through the magical dealers, but the mage who hired him could. They often did, for those demons who worked for them long enough. Comms charms were hard to come by.
When I patted a lump by his hip, I grinned, then stuck my hand into his pocket and yanked out a shiny black cell phone.
“Jackpot!” I whispered.