Ivy drummed her fingers against the flap of her satchel and scanned the crowd milling around the Napoleon courtyard outside the Musée du Louvre. Baen stood at her side keeping his own watch. According to the last time she had checked her phone, it was six o’clock in the evening. The museum was closing its doors, sending throngs of visitors into the chilly air and making it that much harder to pick out an individual who might be wearing blue and sporting a yellow flower in his lapel.
Baen had already made it clear that he disapproved of this meeting spot Asile had chosen. While it was at least a large open area (the one thing he had grudgingly accepted as adequate for her protection) there were too many entrances and exits, too many areas where someone could conceal himself from view, and while the pyramid in the center might be made of glass, its metal framework and huge size still provided an impediment to his ability to see someone coming at them.
She had listened to him list his grievances, and understood his points, but none of them made much difference. Asile had set the meeting, not Ivy, so they would just have to deal.
Clenching her fingers to keep them from pulling out her phone so she could check the time again, she contented herself with grousing. “I hate waiting around. It gives me frickin’ hives.”
Immediately, the Guardian reached out to touch her, as if checking her skin for redness and bumps. Given that she had bundled up against the cold, the only bare patch he could find was on her neck. The caress of his callused fingers there had her toes curling in her boots. This was so not the time for him to be getting her all hot and bothered, not that he seemed to have to exert much effort for that.
Ivy had been trying hard all day not to think about last night, or about waking up this morning cuddled against Baen like a very happy kitten. He might have given her the most amazing night and the most intense orgasms of her life in the attic room of that little auberge, but that didn’t change anything between them. They still belonged to two different species, she still didn’t believe she was really a Warden, and Baen was still an immortal warrior destined to turn back to stone as soon as the Darkness was defeated.
Assuming any of them lived through the upcoming battle.
Baen squeezed her shoulder. “I told you we need not do this. It is a bad place for a meeting. Too much here cannot be controlled or accounted for. We can leave and send another message, choosing our own time and space.”
“And go through this all over again?” She snorted. “No, thanks.”
He grunted and dropped his hand to focus back on the crowd of people filling the courtyard. Personally, Ivy couldn’t spot anyone who looked like her contact. Plenty of people wore blue, but so far she hadn’t seen anyone sporting a fresh flower in his lapel, which she supposed made sense at this time of year. It wasn’t exactly daffodil season in Paris.
Then she felt Baen stiffen beside her and she looked up to see his gaze focused intently on something specific. She followed his glance and found herself watching a wholly unexpected form weaving its way toward them.
Asile had indeed worn blue in the form of a long, slim wool coat in a color just a shade too bright to be called navy. Instead of a boutonniere, a yellow daisy had been pinned to the band adorning a very feminine trilby hat perched on the head of a very feminine Frenchwoman. She approached Ivy and Baen cautiously but without hesitation, as if she had no question that they were the pair she had arranged to meet.
“Bonjour,” she said, her voice rich but quiet in the busy square. “Je vois que le lierre anglais c’est aussi jolie qu’on a entendu.”
Ivy’s high school French utterly failed her when faced with the woman’s quick speech. She caught “I see” and “English” but everything else rushed by her in a blur of lyric syllables. She looked at Baen to see how much better he was doing.
“English ivy is lovely,” he said, his subtle emphasis seeming to offer an agreement to words originally spoken in French, “but it looks best when it can remain shielded from the harsher elements.”
The woman lifted an elegantly arched eyebrow and pursed her lips. “I had expected one of the Guardians to speak French, not to merely understand it.”
“And I had expected someone associated with the Guild not to insult one who had offered them so much past assistance by doing whatever was necessary to make herself understood to everyone she addressed.”
Ivy heard the warning in Baen’s words and saw from his expression that he still didn’t trust this meeting, let alone the person who had showed up as their contact. He glared down at the other woman as if expecting her to pull out an Uzi and blow them both away.
Although Ivy suspected that bullets would just bounce off the stubborn Guardian’s thick hide, no matter which skin he currently wore.
She hurried to cut through the tension. “If you’re Asile, then I’m pleased to meet you. I’ve wanted to for a long time, although I hoped it wouldn’t be because of … all this.”
The woman’s mouth curved, her deep red lipstick making the expression easy to read even in the dimming light. “Your Guardian is right. I should not have been so rude, Warden. Certainly not to one of my own, and one who has done so much to help us. You may call me Rose. I am Rose Houbranche, and I am both relieved and worried to have you here in Paris at last.”
Ivy reached out and automatically shook the hand that was offered, taking a moment to get a good look at the contact she had been in touch with all these months. Rose looked nothing like she had expected.
Well, since she had expected a man, that was an understatement. But even so, the Frenchwoman still took her by surprise. Rose stood around average in height, her slim figure difficult to evaluate under her wool coat, but appearing average as well. She blended well with her surroundings, but in an entirely different way from Ivy. Unlike the American-cum-English Warden, Rose maintained the unmistakably chic air of her countrywomen while sporting a distinctive style of her own. She wore little makeup aside from the bright lipstick, but with her carefully curled dark hair, her fitted skirt that fell all the way to the top curve of her calf, and her thick-heeled T-strapped pumps, she looked a little like a forties movie star.
Ivy could picture her as the heroine of a classic thriller, or a heroine of the French Resistance, risking her life to oppose the oppressive rule of Nazi fascism. It made the much more casual and athletic look to which Ivy had resorted feel scruffy and frumpy in comparison. Her boots made running from the bad guys easy, but they certainly didn’t show off her legs like Rose’s two-toned heels. Who the hell managed to look chic and elegant while fighting the forces of Darkness? It wasn’t natural.
Still, Ivy forced herself not to sulk like a jealous teen. Pouting and scowling weren’t going to help her feel any prettier. “How did you know it was us?” she asked instead. “You walked over here without hesitating at all, while I was still trying to pick out colors in the crowd.”
Rose hesitated for a moment, then replaced her hands in her coat pockets and gave a very Gallic shrug. “It is what I do. My talent. I see things.”
Ivy heard the way the word “see” sounded just a little different when Rose said it and tried to figure out what the other woman meant by it. “You ‘see’ things,” she repeated, mulling over the statement. “As in, you have ‘the Sight’? Are you precognitive?”
The woman glanced discreetly around them, but no one stood close enough to overhear. Not as long as none of them started shouting. Ivy glanced up at Baen, just in case.
“No,” Rose said. “I don’t see the future, I merely see the things around me as they really are, instead of what they pretend to be. For instance, when I look at your Guardian, I can see his true form behind his human disguise. It is not difficult to locate a two-plus-meter-tall, winged gargouille in a crowd of humans.”
No, Ivy didn’t imagine it would be. Still, she wondered how such an ability would work with regular people.
As if overhearing her thoughts, Rose continued. “When I look at you, Warden, I can see that you are most definitely on the side of the Light. I see the strength and determination in you, as well as the fear. Trust me, the fear is natural. It would be unwise not to be afraid of the Darkness and its servants. It will keep you alert to danger and ready to act.” She turned to scan the crowd. “I can also see that most of these are ordinary people, mostly good at the core, but each with his or her own issues to face, whether it be pride or lust or greed or anger. Most humans do not turn to Darkness without being pushed there.”
“By the Order?” Ivy asked.
“Or something worse.”
Ivy nodded, even though she wasn’t entirely certain she understood. What she did know was that it must be really exhausting to be in Rose’s head at times. She didn’t envy the other woman’s talent. “You should really call me Ivy. I’m not used to the whole Warden idea, no matter how many times Baen tries to tell me it’s true.”
“You have doubts?” When she nodded, Rose looked surprised. “You shouldn’t. It is clear you are linked to your Guardian, but even without this, I knew even before we met what you were. If I hadn’t, you would not have been sending me Wardens for all these months. Times are too dangerous to bring in anyone who is not already part of the Guild.”
“That’s the thing, though,” Ivy protested. “I’m not a Guild member.”
“You should be, and you would be if it had not been on the verge of collapse for so many years.”
Apparently, that revelation was too much for Baen to let slip. He butted into the conversation like a bull spotting a red cape. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “What is this talk of problems in the Guild?”
Rose shook her head. “Not here. We have already lingered too long. You will come with me to the safe house, and then I will be able to tell you more.”
“No.” Baen refused, reaching out to grab her coat when the Frenchwoman turned to leave. “My Warden goes nowhere until I am certain of her safety. You might think you can see who and what we are, but how can we be sure you are exactly what you claim to be?”
“Baen,” Ivy murmured, shocked by his display of distrust. Everything Rose was saying seemed perfectly reasonable to her. Nothing had tripped any of her warning signals. Aside from being a woman, Asile had turned out to be much like Ivy had expected. So, why was Baen so suspicious?
Rose did not try to free herself from the Guardian’s grip. She simply looked up at him and spread her hands out before her. “You can see everything you need to, if you take the time to look, Guardian. It is in your nature to know who works for the Light and who carries the Darkness inside them. Look at me and judge for yourself whether I mean you or your Warden any harm.”
There was a tense moment of silence as the huge man and the petite woman stared into each other’s eyes. Ivy could only watch and reassure herself that Baen intended only to keep her safe. There was no reason to think he might feel anything other than suspicion or uncertainty about the beautiful Rose. The niggle of jealousy in her stomach was as unnecessary as it was unexpected.
Besides, there was nothing between her and the Guardian. Not really. Sure, they’d had sex, but there wasn’t a relationship or anything like that in place. They had been two adults with a mutual attraction who had faced a great deal of stress and danger together. Sex had been a release valve for some of that tension and fear. That was all.
And if she had to repeat that to herself three or four times like a mantra, it was nobody’s bloody business but hers, understand?
The tension crackled around the three of them for several long seconds while Baen took stock of the stranger who met his gaze calmly and evenly. Rose seemed to take the scrutiny in stride, whereas Ivy would likely have spit in the face of anyone who treated her like the enemy right off the bat. Score another point for perfection in the French column.
Finally, Baen released Rose’s coat and gave a short nod. “You do not appear tainted, at least. We will follow you to this safe house, but remember that I will allow no harm to come to my Warden, and I will remove any threat to any other servant of the Light I meet.”
“I would expect nothing less,” the woman replied, her tone dry and her lips curving. “I have a car. Will you agree to ride with me, or would you prefer to fly?”
Ivy didn’t care how Baen answered, there was no way she was letting him haul her back into the sky like a mouse caught by a falcon. The next time he tried it, he’d find her knee in his throat by way of his balls. If God had meant for her to fly outside of an airplane, he’d have given her wings of her own.
She saw him hesitate long enough for her kneecap to get twitchy, but in the end a glance around had him scowling in reluctant agreement. “Paris is too large a city in this age for it to be safe to fly. We might too easily be seen. We will go with you.”
The “but know I’m watching you, punk” part of his statement remained unsaid, but Ivy was pretty sure everyone got the point.
Rose led the way toward the Place du Carrousel, then down the central path toward the Avenue du Général Lemonnier. A trickle of other figures moved in the same direction, and the reason became clear when Ivy spotted signs for parking in that direction.
The trio did not chat as they reached the entrance to the underground garage. No matter the uneasy truce among them, no one could call them friends, or even casual acquaintances. Walking beside Ivy, Baen tensed and went on high alert as they entered the confined space. “Where are we going?”
“I said to my car,” Rose replied calmly, pulling a ring of keys from her coat pocket. “Don’t worry, I am only on the second level. We will be out of here quickly.”
Baen’s grunt indicated he still didn’t like having to follow this stranger into what amounted to an enormous modern dungeon. He really didn’t want to cut their contact much slack.
Rose rolled her eyes. “If you still do not trust me, Guardian, you and your Warden may wait by the exit gate, but you will have to be quick to enter my vehicle. The parking hosts here dislike anyone who slows down their queues.”
He nodded stiffly. “I would prefer that.”
“Then look for a silver Renault with myself behind the wheel.” She drew something from her pocket and held it out to him. “You should wear this.”
Ivy saw a chain of silver coiled beside a small oval amulet with an engraved picture of some sort. It looked like the kind of saint’s medallion many Catholics wore, like a Saint Christopher’s medal for protection of travelers. Baen, she noticed, eyed it suspiciously.
“What is that?”
Rose heaved a sigh. “It is a talisman. It carries a spell to conceal magic from curious eyes. I wear it whenever I have to move among large crowds in case the nocturnis lurk among them. However, at the moment, your power serves as a larger beacon than mine. A Guardian is something even the lowliest pawn of the Order could hardly miss, unless you take this to help you blend in. I know you do not trust me, Guardian, but you can see this is made of pure silver. No one corrupt enough to intend you real harm would allow it anywhere near her bare skin. Now, take it.”
Baen reluctantly let her drop the amulet in his hand, but he didn’t put it on. Seeming satisfied, Rose turned on her heel. “I will return in a moment. Remember, a silver Renault Clio.”
Ivy watched the woman descend into the garage and urged Baen to walk toward the ramp where cars exited from the parking area. When they found a spot to wait, she looked up at his dark expression and nudged him. “You really should relax,” she said. “I think she seems fine. I don’t get any of the icky vibes off her I usually do around the nocturnis. What’s making you so suspicious?”
He didn’t reply, just shook his head and kept his eyes on their surroundings. Quite the conversationalist he was today. Practically the only times he had spoken to her since she woke up to find him already up and dressed and pacing their small hotel room had been to issue orders or to offer the briefest possible replies to her questions. If she had thought their encounters the night before had meant something to him, she’d have been feeling seriously hurt by now.
Good thing she knew better. If he had already forgotten about the hottest sex in the history of everything, then they were on the same page. She certainly wasn’t thinking about it.
No, sir. Not even a little.
And that was a good thing, because not thinking about sex or Baen or sex with Baen meant that she wasn’t at all taken by surprise when a tiny silver bullet of a car peeled around the last corner before the parking garage’s exit and plowed straight through the gate arm blocking the driveway. The passenger door of the vehicle popped open and Rose appeared in the gap leaning over and shouting frantically.
“Entrez! Vite! Vite! Ils nous ont trouvés!”
Even Ivy understood that much. Get in! Quick! Hurry! They’ve found us!
She didn’t give Baen time to protest or think up a reason why this was a trap, she flew to the car, pushed the passenger seat forward and squeezed herself into the hatchback’s tiny backseat. “Come on! Let’s go!”
Cursing in a dead language, Baen followed, clearly not pleased but just as clearly unwilling to let Ivy go anywhere without him.
To be honest, she wasn’t entirely certain how he managed to shoehorn himself into the front passenger seat of the minuscule subcompact that Rose drove, but as soon as he had both feet inside, the Frenchwoman punched the gas and sent the car careening onto the busy street. Baen managed to haul the door shut and brace his hand against the dash as an alarm sounded behind them and a man in a rumpled uniform jumped out of the attendant’s box waving his arms, shouting for them to stop, and yelling for the police. Rose didn’t even glance backward.
But Ivy did. She turned sideways along the backseat to see a larger, dark-colored SUV follow them out of the garage at somewhere approaching the speed of light. At least, that’s what it seemed like, especially as she found herself tossed back and forth across the rear of the car.
Lord have mercy, but Rose Houbranche drove through the busy streets of Paris like she was trying to qualify for Nascar. Ivy fumbled around for a seat belt and managed to strap herself in just in time to get nearly choked when the car took a corner on two wheels (and she only assumed they managed to keep that many on the ground because she didn’t die right then and there).
Baen roared out a command to be careful, and Rose shouted back in a stream of words that Ivy was positive Madame Plude had never included in her high school curriculum. The loud voices combined with the squealing of rubber on pavement, the revving engines, and the blare of sirens to leave Ivy almost deaf. She’d never been so disoriented in her life, and it didn’t help that every time Rose jerked the wheel to cut around some poor unsuspecting Parisian driver, Ivy’s stomach leaped into her throat and threatened to finish the jump right into her lap. Because covering herself in her own vomit was just what would make this situation even better.
“What in the name of the Light is going on?” Baen managed to make himself heard over the chaos, which was good, because Ivy wanted to know the same thing. “If you want to kill us, you could choose a quicker method.”
“Ça suffit, Gardien!” Rose snapped. “I try to save you and your Warden, not to mention myself. The nocturnis waited in the garage. Without the charm I gave to you, they spotted me immédiatement. I drive like this because we must put them off our trail, because we cannot risk them discovering the location of our safe house. Too many lives will be in danger. Now, you will be quiet while I try to keep us all alive.”
Ivy dug her fingers into the car’s upholstery and tried to pretend she was in a movie, something with Matt Damon or the Marvel Avengers. If she thought of herself as a spy or a superhero—you know, the kind of person who survived a high-speed crash and climbed from the wreckage to walk calmly but determinedly into the sunset—then maybe she wouldn’t picture herself ending up a bloody smear on the French pavement.
Hey, a girl was entitled to her fantasies.
She glanced out the rear window again. Her heart raced when she saw the SUV had dropped back several car lengths, the bigger vehicle finding itself at a clear disadvantage once Rose had turned off the main avenues onto the much narrower yet still crowded streets leading away from the hubs of tourist activities.
“They’re falling back. We might be able to lose them.”
“Let us hope.”
Rose took another corner too quickly, sending Ivy’s head knocking into the car window and making her grunt. Damn, that had hurt.
Baen glanced back at her, looking angry enough to breathe fire. Could Guardians breathe fire? Ivy had no idea, but she figured if anyone could manage, it would be Baen.
“Are you all right, little one?” he demanded. “Are you hurt?”
She reached up to touch the point of impact and winced when her fingertips brushed a quickly forming knot. Fortunately, though, when she pulled them away, they came away clean. At least she wasn’t bleeding. Maybe there really was a bright side. “I’m fine. It’s just a bump.”
One that took another hit as the car screeched around another corner.
“Be careful!” Baen bellowed, turning a furious glare on their driver. “If you have caused Ivy serious injury, I will rip you apart, Warden or no.”
“Calmez-vous. She said it’s just a bump. Isn’t that better than falling into the hands of the Order?”
Ivy cupped her head carefully and looked behind them again. Rose had pulled back onto a larger road and there was no sign left of the dark SUV. “Hey, I think we lost them.”
Finally stepping on the brake, Rose slowed the car to a reasonable (read: sane) rate of speed and merged with the flow of traffic. “I think so, too, but if you would continue to watch, it would be a great help.”
“No problem.” It would give her something to think about besides her quickly brewing headache. Damn, that glass was hard.
“I think it is time you answered some more questions.” Baen managed to keep from shouting now that they were back to moving like normal people and not members of the Grand Prix racing circuit, but that didn’t mean he sounded any happier than he had at his loudest. “We might not have reached your safe house, but I think we can be certain that we will not be overheard in here. Correct?”
Rose shrugged and glanced in her mirrors as she changed lanes to follow the road away from the center of the city. “As certain as we can be anywhere, I suppose.”
“Good.” The Guardian paused and drew a slow breath. When he spoke again, his gravelly voice vibrated with carefully controlled anger. “Tell me exactly what happened back there. How could the Order have known where to find us? Unless you led them to the meeting that you arranged.”
Ivy couldn’t see Rose’s face, but she saw the way the other woman’s shoulders tensed and her fingers tightened on the steering wheel.
“I took every precaution against discovery,” the Frenchwoman said, “but no, I cannot be absolutely certain it was enough. The nocturnis keep the city under close watch these days. If anyone with any magic catches their attention, they make certain to investigate. It is why it has become so important—and so difficult—to keep them away from the safe house. We maintain the secrecy of that location at all costs.”
“This safe house. It is where the surviving Wardens have been gathered?”
“Yes.”
“Is that the wisest decision? If the Order has been hunting down members of the Guild, perhaps they would be better off divided into small groups.”
“We tried that.” Rose’s tone was flat and hard. “We lost three clusters that way. Almost two dozen Wardens. Smaller groups might be easier to hide, but if they are discovered, they become too vulnerable. The smallest mistake can lead the Order to a hiding spot, and at that point, they concentrate all their resources on it until we are wiped out. We found it wiser to stick together and concentrate on concealing one location rather than many. Strength in numbers, is that correct? Especially now that the nocturnis are summoning stronger and stronger playthings. They have killed so many of us that hunting down those who survive had become a game to them.”
“Maybe they should just download Angry Birds Star Wars or Hitman on their iPhones like everyone else,” Ivy muttered.
“If only, n’est-ce pas?” Rose snorted. “Unfortunately, they seem determined to play with us instead.”
Baen pressed on. “If all the Guild’s survivors are gathered together now, should they not have come up with a way to put a stop to such attacks against them? All of that knowledge and magic in one place should make you strong enough for that.”
The woman scoffed. “I see you still have much to learn about the current situation, Guardian. What makes you think we have enough survivors to do more than simply keep ourselves concealed? And why should you expect that the strongest and best-trained members of the Guild were not the first ones singled out by the nocturnis for extermination? We have been left with mostly apprentices, the unskilled, or the poorly trained.” She glanced in the rearview mirror. “What about you, Ivy? Did you notice that any of the Wardens you sent here had magic to spare?”
Ivy thought about that. By the time she had lured them out of hiding, most of the Wardens she had met had been too afraid to light a birthday candle with magic, let alone handle any major spellwork. Not that she blamed them. They had all lived in fear for their lives and had known that using their talents was the surest way to draw attention from the very forces they had gone underground to escape.
“Not really. I mean, I didn’t exactly sit down for long, heartfelt conversations with any of them. We never had that kind of time. But they all seemed essentially the same—members of the Guild, but with no particular official position beyond that.”
Rose nodded. “Exactly. I have tried to encourage the few well-trained Wardens among us to lead the others in looking for ways to fight, but it is a slow process, and the need to maintain secrecy only adds to the burden.” She paused and drew in a deep breath before blowing it out in a quick, heavy exhalation. “There are just so few of us left.”
“How many?”
Rose looked away from the road just long enough to catch Baen’s gaze. From her position in the backseat, Ivy could see the strain and sadness in the other woman’s profile.
“At the safe house? Sixty-two. Including myself, and now Ivy, as well.”
That made Ivy go cold. Sixty-two Wardens survived? Out of a Guild membership Uncle George had once numbered over two thousand? How was that possible? Even padding the number with the others that Ash and Drum had told them about yesterday, that meant that less than five percent of all the Wardens on Earth had survived the massacres and the assassinations organized by the Order of Eternal Darkness.
God help them.
Silence descended oppressively on the car. Ivy was still trying to wrap her head around the concept of the near annihilation of an organization that had previously stood strong across millennia. Rose seemed tense and depressed, as if she expected her passengers to blame her for the extent of the carnage, and Baen brooded and seethed in his corner, his fists clenching and unclenching in his lap as he struggled to digest the situation into which he had woken.
Talk about a nasty shock. If Ivy were him, she would have wondered if she’d gotten everything backward and she’d actually fallen back asleep into her worst nightmare.
Eventually, Rose shifted restlessly and said, “What do you think now? Would you like to return to the city and take the next flight back to London?”
Ivy almost laughed. “Considering what happened before we left, I’m wondering if Antarctica is nice this time of year.”
“No.”
Baen pressed his palms flat against the fabric of his jeans and shook his head. He had his gaze fixed on the road ahead of them, the sea of darkness illuminated only by their headlights and the succession of streetlights lining the roadway. It was as if he could see their enemy gathering its army out there, and he refused to show them weakness.
Ivy hated to break it to him, but if they had killed ninety-five percent of the Wardens in the world, she was pretty sure the Order knew how weak they were. They were probably yukking it up right that very moment.
“No, it is important that we know the truth,” he continued. “An honest assessment of our resources is the first step to developing a strategy for victory.”
Rose shuddered, her breath catching on a sob, and Ivy found herself shocked to see a huge crack appear in the other woman’s chic, tough façade. Her shoulders slumped and her grip on the steering wheel turned white-knuckled. “Merci Dieu. Then you will stand and fight with us?”
Baen turned his offended expression on their driver. “I am a Guardian. Of course I will fight against the Darkness. It is my purpose and my duty. I will not abandon my honor in the face of any odds.”
“Je m’excuse, Gardien,” she murmured. “Of course you would not. This has simply been a very difficult time. We have been afraid that we would not find you, and our chances against the Seven, even with all of the Guardians risen, are still not good. It is … stressful.”
Ivy figured that was an understatement. Then she reviewed the other woman’s words and frowned. “Wait, what do you mean? All the Guardian aren’t risen yet. You know that, right?”
Rose glanced back in the mirror. “You were isolated in England, but I can tell you that other Guardians have been waking for a long time now. Most are in North America, but now that you are here, I hope to convince them to join us as soon as possible.”
“Then you do know about the others.”
Confusion made Ivy feel a twinge of the same distrust Baen had displayed when they first met this woman. Why had she not mentioned her awareness of the other Guardians before now? Why had she not said anything when Ivy had first alerted her to Baen’s existence? Yes, they had to be circumspect over e-mail. Those communications were too easy to hack, but an oblique reference would have been appropriate, wouldn’t it?
Ivy shifted until she could see part of Rose’s face in the rearview mirror. “If you’ve known that five other Guardians were awake before Baen, then you also know they’ve been searching for the others and for surviving Wardens, but you haven’t contacted them, because they’ve never heard of you. What gives?”
“Gives?” Rose frowned, then shook her head. “If you mean to ask me for an explanation, it was not the right time. Yes, I saw the overtures the others put out on the Internet, but to contact them too early would only have placed everyone in even greater danger than they already faced. I had to wait.”
“For what?”
“Until all the pieces were in place.”
Baen glowered at the woman. “What is that supposed to mean?” he snarled, the tip of a fang peeking out to betray his emotions.
Rose turned the car off the road and onto a narrow, unpaved lane. Ivy sat up straighter, suddenly feeling very uneasy. They had driven for forty minutes or so by now, and as long as they had stayed on well-marked asphalt, Ivy hadn’t thought much of it. Now, she realized they had traveled into the countryside where there were few lights and no other vehicles in sight. Had Baen been right to distrust the stranger who claimed to be on their side?
“Where are we?” Ivy demanded, looking around to see hedgerows growing up on either side of the car, effectively cutting them off from the rest of the world.
Rose didn’t slow the car, just continued to guide it into the darkness. “Which question would you like me to answer first? The one about what is going on, or the one about where we are going?”
“You will answer both.” Quick as a striking snake, Baen wrapped his hand around the Frenchwoman’s throat and leaned forward to growl menacingly. “Now.”
Rose barely flinched at the feel of that huge hand threatening to snap her neck with a single motion. Man, but that woman had balls, Ivy thought. She didn’t think she could remain so calm in the same circumstances.
Following a curve in the lane, the woman guided the small car out from between the hedges and into an open area dotted with light from the windows of a sprawling old manor house. The lane had been a private drive, and the tall rows of trees and shrubs a barrier concealing the building from the nearby roads.
“In that case, I can tell you that we are going here,” Rose said, turning off the ignition, but keeping her hands in sight on the wheel. “This is the safe house. Just where I told you I would take you.”
“And the reason for your hiding from my brothers?” Bean prompted, still not releasing her.
“As I said, I needed to wait until everything was in place, until the last of the Guardians had risen. Before then, it was too dangerous to bring them all together in one place. Think of the target that would have presented to the Order.”
“But Baen is only the sixth Guardian to wake,” Ivy pointed out, not understanding the other woman’s thinking. “There’s still one out there, only no one has been able to locate him.”
Rose stared into the mirror, right into Ivy’s gaze, and her lips took on the smallest curve. “I have.”