“We’re ready if you are, Morgan.”

He nodded, pulled a slip of paper from his pocket, tapped in the numbers, lifted the phone to his ear.

The room went silent.

“Gold star,” Morgan said after a moment, and then hung up the phone again.

“Gold star?” Ethan asked.

“That’s the code for our account.”

“How long will it take them to respond?” Ethan asked.

“I don’t know,” Morgan said, and we all prepared to wait.

*   *   *

It took less than five minutes.

Morgan’s phone rang, the ring tone a soft, alternative song I recognized, the vocalist mourning the end of a relationship. My chest squeezed sympathetically, but I kept my thoughts to myself. Morgan wouldn’t have appreciated the sympathy, especially not from me.

“Give me three . . . two . . . and one,” Jeff said, then pointed at Morgan. “You’re a go.”

Morgan blew out a breath, lifted the phone to his ear. “Navarre.”

The answering voice—deep and slowly and clearly affected by a voice modulator—echoed in my ear. “You were not instructed to call.”

“And you were instructed in the beginning not to touch my people. You did it anyway.”

“You first refused your assignment, and then botched it.”

“You came to my House, assaulted one of my vampires. They are not on the table.”

Merit, Ethan said silently, and I nodded my understanding, did my part.

Morgan, I said silently, activating the unusual telepathic link between us. Calm down. Remember what this call is about.

He still looked furious, but rolled his shoulders in an apparent effort to calm himself.

“We’re not especially concerned about your preferences,” said the voice. “Your loan is in default.” There was a moment of silence. “We will afford you the opportunity to negotiate.”

Morgan pursed his lips, blew out a relieved breath. “That’s acceptable.”

“One hour. Michigan Avenue helipad. The copter will be waiting.”

“Helicopter?” Morgan said. “Why do we need a helicopter?”

“We select the location, Navarre.”

Morgan looked around the table, settled on me. “You want to deal, I want a guest. Merit, of Cadogan House.”

Ethan’s magic bloomed hot and bright beside me, and I covered a hand with his. His wasn’t the only irritation. My grandfather, Jeff, and Luc looked pissed on my behalf.

But their reactions, while appreciated, were irrelevant. We couldn’t let Morgan go alone, and I was as reasonable a choice as any. Certainly more reasonable than having another Master go with him, handing them both over to the Circle.

“One hour,” the voice said, and the line went dead.

Morgan put the phone down, then was brave enough to meet Ethan’s furious gaze.

“That you would dare to volunteer Merit without her, or my, consent absolutely astounds me.”

“I had to take someone. Who else at this table would you send?”

“So you’ll throw her to your wolves without even asking her permission?”

“Did you ask her permission to make her a vampire?”

Ethan’s body went rigid, and he moved to stand, but I squeezed the hand on his arm.

“Morgan,” I said, “quit being an asshole. Ethan, he’s right. I’m the best person to go. I’ve dealt with Jude Maguire, I’ve got skills, and I can talk to Morgan telepathically. That’s a big advantage.”

“He might have asked you.”

“He should have,” I agreed, leveling an unflattering gaze at Morgan. “But he didn’t, and it’s done.”

Ethan’s gaze didn’t waver. “How long will it take to get to the helipad?”

Jeff scanned the map he’d already pulled up on the screen. “Current estimate is twenty-three minutes.”

“We get there early, scope it out. That gives us twenty minutes to get this operation ready to go.” He glanced at Morgan. “And when it’s done, you and I have business.”

Morgan nodded, and the preparations began.

*   *   *

I let them deal with the logistics, ran upstairs to change clothes. This wouldn’t be a social call. I’d need as much protection as possible, so I pulled on leather pants, a red tank, my leather jacket, black boots. I wanted to tuck a dagger into my boot, but the CPD still had it. Not that it mattered; the Circle would undoubtedly search me and take it, and since it had been a gift from Ethan, I didn’t want to lose it.

The possibility that Balthasar would be there, would be involved, occurred to me, and turned my stomach. I was looking forward to a good down-and-dirty fight, but not one that took place in my mind. I considered, grabbed the bracelet from the nightstand, fastened it. Better to be safe than sorry where he was concerned.

I splashed water on my face, brushed my hair so I could tie it up. When I emerged from the bathroom, pulling my hair into a ponytail, Ethan stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, still vibrating with irritation.

“He’s put you in a damn fine position.”

“It was an asshole move,” I agreed, snapping the elastic into place and ensuring that the ponytail was snug. “But he’s right—he didn’t have a better choice.”

“They now know you’re coming,” he said as I walked toward him. “They’ll be prepared for you, and might consider taking you as an asset.”

I nodded, offered up the realization that had made my heart thump beneath my chest like a nervous rabbit.

“If they really wanted to negotiate, to give him a new assignment, they’d have done it over the phone. Bringing us to their HQ is risky. Which means they don’t really want to negotiate.”

Ethan’s brow furrowed, and he nodded. “We think you’re right.”

“So they want to kill us, or use us as bait to get something else. Like Sanford King, who is currently inaccessible to them, since he’s in protective custody. And they’ll assume my grandfather knows where he is.”

“And they’ll assume they can use you to get to your grandfather.”

I nodded. That was a lot of weight on my shoulders, and I really didn’t want to get kidnapped again. I’d already been held by a demon and a group of jingoistic elves, and didn’t want to make it an even three.

“Morgan’s aware of all this?”

“He is. Your grandfather spoke with him about it.”