“How many do you think we’re looking at?”
“Gunn will probably have his closest team of five or six, Colletto about the same. Then there are the Den’s six sorcerers, but they’re not going to give you any pushback,” I lie. I pray to God that Joan sticks with our plan, even if Gunn told her I’m gone. I have no choice but to count on it.
So I gear up to give him the story that Joan and I agreed to, the only story that will let her and her family walk away from this unscathed. “The sorcerers in question, they’ve been kept in a cage for days, forced to sorcer for Harrison Gunn. And the heavy hitter—the one with the magic to make the eternal shine? Gunn’s holding her whole family hostage. You need to get her out of there.” I keep my eyes on the road as I spin the tale for Frain, but I can feel him watching me. “I found out that Gunn was using her right before I got pulled into Win’s car—there was no time to tell you. They were driving me away before I could dial it in.”
But if Frain suspects anything, he gives no indication. He gives a little grunt as he pulls a left. “Harrison Gunn.” He shakes his head. “We’ll get him, Alex, and all of those Shaw and D Street bastards. We’re taking them all down.”
We approach from N Street, pull into the alley perpendicular to the Red Den lot, out of sight, and cut the engine. The other agency cars slowly roll in behind us. Frain jumps out to round up his manpower, but I give myself another second in the car and lean my head against the passenger seat headrest.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and then another. This will all be over soon, and then all the lies and betrayals, they’re all going to be done. I’ll get folded back into the Unit’s Domestic Magic division, hopefully still working for Agent Frain. I’ll have a true second start, doing something that I excel in—something I believe in. And Joan and I will be together, away and safe from all of this. After some questioning and a short custody, I can get her and her family set up here with me in DC. Her problems will become my problems. It’s what I want to do. It’s what I need to do. I can’t imagine life without her.
I push the passenger door open and limp back to Frain’s trunk, where Unit men are digging out their weapons and ammunition.
SHOWDOWN
JOAN
I watch from my small bedroom window, as Gunn and Dawson cross the parking lot of the Red Den to greet the three town cars that have just pulled in. The engines cut, one after another. The D Street men get out of their cars, all crisp fedoras, big camel-colored coats, and black gloves. And then from the back of the car nearest to my window emerges their boss, Colletto. Gunn shakes his hand, pulls him into a half embrace, and gestures back to the Den.
They’ll be downstairs in no time, and so I ignore the panic that’s been rising inside me like a steady tide and force myself to focus on the next step in my plan. If the Feds are still coming, like Alex promised, they’ll be here soon. First step: I need to appeal to the rest of the sorcerers. I need a cover for what happened to Win. I also need an excuse for getting inside that lounge. And I have to warn the troupe that the Feds are coming—they all deserve to get out of this unharmed. Despite what they might think of me, I still have nothing but respect for them.
The Shaws and D Street are still outside, closing car doors, sharing smokes, laughing as the night sky hums with possibility. I run down the two flights of stairs and cross the show space to the hall on the other side.
The door to the sorcerers’ new home—the VIP lounge where they’ve been brewing around the clock—is locked, not that it would stop any sorcerer who truly wanted to break out. No, what’s keeping them here is the same thing that kept me tethered to Gunn—a promise of a better future. A constant, unsettling feeling that if we step out too much, fall too far behind, one morning we might not wake up at all.
My hand wraps around the doorknob, and I conjure it open. The five troupe members stop and stare.
“What are you doing here?” Rose cuts in. “Thought you were above us now.”
“Do you have a message from Gunn?” Ral says, as Billy adds eagerly, “Is D Street here? Is this goddamned nightmare over?”
“Alex never came back,” Grace says softly. “Do you know where he is?”
It’s like an attack, all the questions, the cold shoulders, and finally I utter, “Alex is dead.”
The room becomes shocked still. Ral and Billy shift uncomfortably, Tommy starts muttering obscenities to Rose, but Grace just looks at me. “Are you all right?”
And that—the note of kindness, of concern, in her voice, after everything—it’s what causes me to lose it. “No, I’m not.” My eyes start to water.