“It doesn’t surprise me that Valens would withhold a selkie’s skin,” I said, my opinion of him lower than I had thought was possible. “He probably found a way to withhold it from her even in death, just to cement his dominance over her. To prove he was better than the call of the sea…” A connection tried to ignite like a couple sticks rubbed together to make fire. “You know, his lineage is the god of the sea. He holds most of his power there. One would reason that he could withhold a sea creature’s power by virtue of supernatural might alone.”

“Except death is not his realm. That’s Hades’,” Mordecai said.

The spark fizzled out. “True.”

“And he’d have to focus on it all the time. Maybe not while she was alive, trapped in reality, but it seems like death doesn’t have the same restrictions. Spirits move about pretty easily.”

“Yes and no. They move around familiar places easily, often returning to wherever they felt most comfortable, or knew the best, or died in, but they get lost in unfamiliar places. Confused. They fizzle out and find their way back to their comfort zone.”

“Why is one of Frank’s comfortable places in our front yard?”

“I have no idea. Honestly, I’m scared to ask.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s about my mother’s age, and like I just said, ghosts often hang around a place of comfort.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah. And you don’t even know what he looks like.” I grimaced. I did not like thinking of my mother’s love life.

“You’re not taking that job.” Mordecai glanced down at my phone where the GPS map was displayed. “A right up here.”

“Right. True. I am curious, though. I want to know if I can call magical objects like I can people.”

“Then try.”

“I can’t without a solid foundation. Something special of hers would probably do the trick, if a trick could be done.”

Mordecai nodded and pointed so I would turn. We approached the guarded gate in the six-foot-high brick wall encircling the magical zone, the height almost daring non-magical people to come in illegally and attempt to create mischief. And foolish kids did. All the time.

Most of them paid the price. Some of them were never heard from again.

“Have your ID out,” I said, and slipped my ID from my wallet. “If I could figure out the riddle, though, and get his mother back that skin…”

“Don’t even say it,” Mordecai warned.

I slowed behind the line of cars seeking admittance into the magical area. In the clear lane beside me, intended for higher-powered personnel, a large Mercedes SUV glided by, barely slowing before the guard in that lane touched his first two fingers to his forehead, letting him pass without showing identification.

I couldn’t not say it. I couldn’t not say it, or not think it, or not dwell on it constantly. “You’d be cured, Mordecai. You would get complete access to your heritage.”

“And then what?” he asked, his voice hushed. “Right now, I don’t have any strength. I don’t know how to fight. The alpha might not bother with me because I’m nothing. One look at me would tell him I’m no threat. His people would see a strong alpha picking on a sickly boy. He’d get nothing out of it. My weakness is my greatest protection. In fact, he’d get points from the pack for acting merciful. But if I was healthy, he’d have no reason not to challenge me.”

“That would make really good sense to leaders like your parents probably were. And clearly like you would be. That’s why they were loved. But I told you what the Demigod said. The current alpha doesn’t fight fair, and he isn’t loved.”

“The Demigod might’ve been telling you what you needed to hear. Demigods are also cunning, and they also don’t fight fair.”

I paused with my mouth open. I was too freaking gullible by half. “Dang it. You’re too smart.”

“No, I just have a lot of practice talking you out of very bad ideas. If only I was half as good at talking Daisy out of them.”

“The difference is, she somehow pulls off her terrible ideas, and I always get caught.”

As we approached the head of the line, I rolled down the window, squinting into the frigid air. A little bit farther and the temperate weather of the magical zone would welcome us in.

“Good afternoon, kind sir,” I said, handing my license to the stern-faced guard in a black uniform with two green stripes down the arms and legs. “Lovely day for a kite, isn’t it?”

His jaw set firmly, he brought up a blacklight reader to catch the watermarks in the license.

“Rest assured, there is no way I’d try to sneak in.” I smiled up at him.

He turned and slid the card through a reader, waited a beat, then handed the ID back. He looked at the car behind me.

“Lovely chatting with you. I feel refreshed.” I waved at him and continued on through the wall.

“That’s the way to get them to remember you,” Mordecai said.

“Not hardly. They only remember important people who are full of themselves. He’ll disregard a poor girl desperate for a little back-and-forth.” I turned left on the cleanly swept, pristine road. Full trees waved in the strong breeze, some flowering out of season. Brick buildings and cute little houses lined the streets. All of the neighborhoods were as expensive, well maintained, and cozy as this one. Tufts of fog floated ahead, thinning dramatically the farther in we got. The Demigod had the weather looking fine.

I wound through the blocks until I hit a larger thoroughfare and followed Mordecai’s directions to a bluff overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge.

“Nice view,” Mordecai said as I parked as close to it as I could. I only wished I could live in a place with this view. Of course, the houses that looked out on the bridge were astronomically expensive in any of the zones, magical or otherwise.

“I bet Kieran has a great view,” I murmured wistfully. “That might be worth trading a night for.”

“Did you fall off the logic truck and hit your head on stupid?” Mordecai asked as he opened his door.

“I wouldn’t really do it,” I grumbled, though I half wished I was a person who would. He probably had a sweet house, and a giant, fluffy, comfy bed.

He certainly had that body. And those eyes…

Mordecai shook his head, looking around the half-filled parking lot. Unlike government buildings in the non-magical areas, the buildings here rarely had lengthy lines, long wait times, and heavy foot traffic. Valens wanted everything in his city to run smoothly and efficiently, something other magical leaders worked on emulating.

“Okay. Just keep your head down, get in, and get out,” I said, grabbing Mordecai’s lean bicep and directing him to an artful stone path leading toward the high, arching marble front entrance. Valens also liked grandness.

“Are you giving yourself that advice, or me?” he asked. It had probably been meant as a joke, but it came out sounding nervous.

“It’s going to be fine. All they want to do is check you out.”

The columns along the sides of the building reminded me of those in Ancient Greece or Rome, but the shimmering decal of thousands of inlaid tiles cast a modern appearance that made a person think of the moving ocean.

“Say what you want about Valens, he has a real eye for beauty,” I said in hushed tones, marveling as we descended a set of stone steps that matched the walkway.

“Just ask his wife,” Mordecai replied.

His body tensed as we entered the door and turned left for the information desk. A chipper woman with blueish skin and bright blue hair beamed at us as we approached. I had no idea what kind of a magical person she was, or if she had any idea a forlorn-looking granny stood behind her, staring down at her. I imagined that only the severely closed-off wouldn’t notice the tingle of constantly being watched, even if the watcher was no longer in a visible body.

“Good afternoon—” She cut off the greeting when I shoved the crinkled letter across the high desk. “Ah.” She looked up with a smile. “And you are Alexis?”

“Me.” I tapped my chest, not intending to be quite so caveman-like. What could I say—official places made me nervous. I was usually only in them when I was in trouble.

Her smile lifted her cheeks. “Fantastic. You are right on time. You’ll just head down the corridor on the left here, to the very end, and knock on room one-oh-seven.”

“Super.”

“Annnd… Mordecai.” Her unnaturally green eyes flicked toward Mordecai. “Yes?”

He nodded.

“Fantastic. You’ll just head upstairs and to the right. Room two-oh-one. They’ll look after you there. Let me just check you in.” She tapped a keyboard off to the side with long purple nails. The click-click-click made me grind my teeth. “And it looks like transportation has been arranged for your return home, Mordecai. So they’ll—”

“No.” I leaned across the desk to get a look at the computer screen. “I’ll be taking him home. He doesn’t need your transportation.”

Her disarming smile didn’t do anything for the tightness in my chest. “It’s standard procedure, Miss Price. Sometimes the various tests can take a lot out of patients. We like to make sure they get home safe.”