Page 120 of The Rut in the Road

“They can,” Mason answered. “If you put enough into them.”

Beck snorted, the sound she’d made the entire meeting. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting protection spells,” she said. Mason professed to not be very good at them, although I very much doubted that his definition ofnot very goodand most people’s were miles apart.

Mason’s cheeks flushed toward brown. “I’ve been practicing,” he grumbled. “Besides, I won’t be the only one casting.” He glanced at Ward. “Or weaving. This company has two witchesandtwo warlocks. I think that between the four of us, we can probably manage just fine.”

“Three,” I interrupted. Everyone looked at me again. “Sylvia and Archie,” I supplied. “They might be dead, but they’re both capable of magic.”

Damn right, sport,Archie put in. He wasn’t visible to most of the room, just Beck, Ward, and me.I’d like to see some anti-magic bastard try to bring down what I put in his way.

I appreciated the sentiment.

Indeed, dead man, Sylvia remarked wryly. Archie was floating next to me, while Sylvia had taken her usual position behind Ward’s shoulder.

“Will that satisfy you?” Mason asked Raj.

Raj looked uncertain.

“If you think it’ll work as well as steel or mortar, then I’m not gonna tell you no,” Hart said. “But you’re gonna want this sooner rather than later.”

Mason’s gold-flecked black eyes narrowed. “What do you know that we don’t?” he demanded.

Hart and Raj exchanged a glance.

“I’m afraid we can’t say,” Raj hedged, and Ward rolled his eyes, started to lean back, grimaced, and settled for crossing his arms over his chest when he was reminded that his loaner chair didn’t have as high a back as his actual chair.

I had a guess. “It was the Church of Holy Judgment, wasn’t it?”

Hart shot a glare in Raj’s direction.

“I didn’t say a word,” he protested.

“He didn’t,” I agreed. “But it makes sense. They’re escalating. They knew there was likely to be a high percentage of Arc-human and Arcane participants at the Dance with the Dead. They have a history of using vehicular manslaughter as their MO.” I’d been inside the minds of several members of the community, between the objects taken from the church to the evidence from the hit-and-run scenes. It fit with the way they thought and felt.

“Shit, kid,” Hart said quietly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” I asked, meeting his lavender eyes.

“We don’t know that yet,” Raj replied softly.

“But that’s what you think,” I pushed, looking over at him. His gold-brown eyes met mine only for a half-second, then he looked away.

“I can’t confirm that,” he replied. I knew that meant I was probably right, he just couldn’t say so.

Hart snorted, but said nothing after Raj glared at him.

“Well,” Ward said, his voice low and somber. “It seems we have a lot of work to do. If there’s nothing further you need from us…?”

Ward’s polite seriousness worried me more than anything Hart or Raj had said, and I swallowed, my eyes on my boss’s expression. His jaw was set, his eyes glittering. What I wasn’t sure about was whether he was angry at Raj and Hart, at theChurch of Holy Judgment, at the MFM, at me… or maybe all of us.

Raj and Hart exchanged another glance.

“Not at this time,” Raj replied.

Ward nodded. “Then we’ll get to work.”

Everyone—except Ward, of course—got up.

Not sure what else to do, I walked back out to the lobby with Raj and Hart, assuming I’d be going back to my desk to wait for whatever Ward wanted me to do next.