Page 20

The car slowed, the driver signaled and took the off ramp to a gas station. “We need a fuel stop,” said the driver. “And the twins are meeting us here.”

Alain grumbled in the back of his throat.

The driver shrugged. “Maxime’s orders.”

The twins? Maxime? Alain’s jacket couldn’t warm the chill that settled over her. The driver had spoken in English, his French accent strong. He’d meant for her to hear.

Instead of pulling up to the gas pump, the driver steered the vehicle to the back of the lot, near the entrance to the restrooms. He checked his phone. “Louis and Pierre are waiting for you behind the building, past the amenities. It’s late and there aren’t too many people around, but there’s no point in advertising what we’re doing.”

Alain got out of the car and beckoned her to follow. And what exactly were they doing? Alain waited, the boxes tucked under his arm, a hand outstretched.

The driver kept the car running. “Stay behind the building. I’ll come back and pick you up.”

Her hands were shaking as she unbuckled the belt, slid across the seat, took Alain’s hand and stepped out of the car. The smell of fried food and coffee wafted on the air, and though she hadn’t eaten since lunch, her stomach was twisted in so many knots that the thought of eating didn’t sit well. The slam of the car door behind her made her jump, then the driver reversed and headed for the gas pump.

Her hand still tucked in Alain’s, she followed him toward the back of the building, to a space that would be invisible to anyone at the gas pumps or the attendants inside the service center. Her steps faltered as they rounded the corner of the building, passing the entrance for the amenities. “I…I need to use the restroom.”

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded. Without checking if it was occupied, he pushed open the door, strode into the women’s restroom and waved a hand at the stall doors.

Three cubicles, all unoccupied. “Are you going to wait outside?”

“Non.”

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in his answer. Grace sighed and entered the cubicle, her heels clicking on the tiles and the fluorescent light buzzing overhead. She put the lid down and sat on the toilet, putting her head in her hands. She needed to think.

This is stupid, Grace.

She didn’t have half the sense her mama gave her. Getting in a car with a man she didn’t know, driving hours to who knew where. Back in his apartment, in the car, it had seemed like a plan. The only one she had. Now…

Alain paced in front of the door, talking on his phone in rapid French. She stared at his shoes, visible beneath the door. He’d said he wouldn’t hurt her, and so far, he hadn’t. He had saved her photos. She pulled the edges of his coat together. And given her a jacket to keep warm. Would he go to all that trouble if the aim was to do away with her?

He was also a member of the Council of Witches, the adjudicators, the decision-makers of all witches. That had to count for something. But he hadn’t reported her to them. That could only mean one thing. He wanted the grimoire for some purpose of his own.

His conversation ended, and he stopped pacing. “Grace? Let’s go.”

It all came down to one thing. Getting the grimoire for Cordelia was how she could free her mama. And for that, she’d risk everything. As mad as it seemed, it remained the only real option she had. Go through with Cordelia’s plan. Seduce Alain, get the grimoire and save her mama and Bernard.

Grace flushed the toilet to maintain the illusion she’d needed to pee, then opened the door. She washed her hands and dried them thoroughly beneath the air dryer, until it became obvious she was stalling. “Okay, let’s go.”

He didn’t move, blocking the doorway, his look inscrutable. It wouldn’t surprise her if he’d guessed she was having second thoughts. If he suspected her of planning to run or create a scene and draw a crowd.

Alain brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “I promise you, Grace, no harm will come to you, no matter what happens.”

She nodded, but she’d be a fool to trust him. And she’d been foolish enough for one night.

He took her hand and she let him lead her out of the restroom and around the corner of the building. It was darker here, moonlight reflecting off used takeaway containers and discarded candy wrappers. A soda can rolled, coming to a stop against the wall. The stench of rotting garbage tainted the air from a dumpster with its lid propped open. Distant voices, the hum of the gas station’s refrigeration system, the hiss of a truck’s air brakes, and the whoosh of cars passing on the freeway made the silence back here more unnerving.

She took a weird sort of comfort from his warm grip as he steered her past the dumpster. They stopped in the light spilling from a high window about halfway along the building, and two large, dark shapes detached themselves from the wall. Grace took a step back, but Alain pulled her close and tucked her under his arm. In different circumstances, she might have leaned into him, enjoyed the feel of his arm around her shoulder.

Into the pool of light stepped two men. Two model-worthy, identical men. Shifters. Twins. One of them grinned at her as he rocked back and forth on his feet, his smile so big and open Grace almost smiled back. Alain snarled at him.

The other twin shook his head. “You know we have to do this, Alain. It’s too much of a risk if we don’t.”

He didn’t smile.

“We’ll make it as quick and as painless as possible,” said Smiley.

Quick and painless? Alain’s arm tightened around her. Another growl. Her pulse quickened. Alain had promised her he wouldn’t hurt her. He hadn’t said anything about anyone else.