“Contracts are important.” Leon nodded.

I looked at my mother.

“Leon,” Mom said. “A man is a man because he has a set of principles. He has lines he doesn’t cross. It shows discipline, commitment, and willpower to do the job. A man is someone who can be relied upon because he holds himself to a higher standard. That’s how you get respect. You need to sit down and figure out where your lines are, or you will grow up to be one of these assholes everyone despises because they would strangle their own relatives for money.” She looked at my two sisters. “The same goes for you. I said man because I was talking to him, so take the same speech, put woman in it, and use it to come up with some guidelines for yourself.”

Nobody said anything.

Catalina cleared her throat. “Nevada, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

“In your office.”

I forced myself off the couch, walked to my office, and sat into my chair. Catalina and Arabella followed me.

“There are over a hundred people in that building?” Catalina asked.

“Yes.”

“And they are armed?”

“Yes.”

My sister squared her narrow shoulders. “Then I’m coming.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What if you get shot?” Catalina crossed her arms on her chest. “What if Rogan or Cornelius get shot? Or one of their people?”

“We’re all adults. We . . .”

“I’m not losing you because of this thing. These people came here and tried to kill us. They tried to murder Matilda.”

“Which is fucked up,” Arabella volunteered.

“Language,” I told her.

She shook her blond head. “Oh, shut up, Nevada, you swear like a fucking sailor.”

“I’m twenty-five,” I growled.

“Well, I’m fifteen and I have more to swear about than you.”

“If I go,” Catalina yelled over the two of us, “nobody will have to get shot!”

“No,” I told her.

She faced me. “Yes.”

“You can’t control it.”

“Yes, I can.” She raised her chin. “I’m better at it.”

“Oh yeah?” I tilted my head. “Can you disengage?”

“Some,” she said.

“She doesn’t have to disengage,” Arabella said. “I’ll get her out.”

“You will get her out in front of a bunch of people, all of whom will see you. Have you two lost your minds?”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Arabella said.

“We know,” Catalina added.

“Know what?”

“Mom told us about Tremaine,” Catalina said. “We know about the other grandmother.”

I rubbed my face. They had a right to know, but I really wished Mom would’ve waited. Silence lay between us like a big heavy brick.

“What will happen if she finds us?” Arabella asked.

“Bad things.” I didn’t want to elaborate.

“How are we going to protect Mom?” Arabella asked. “Also, she thinks that I’ll end up in a cage.”

Decades with no information and then all the information at once. Thanks, Mom. “Mom will be okay and nobody will put you in a cage. Once this is over, we’ll form a House.”

They stared at me. They looked so different—tall willowy Catalina with long dark hair, and short athletic Arabella with blond curls. How the hell they managed to have an identical expression on their faces, I would never know.

“Our own House?” Arabella asked.

“Yes. If we form a House, she can’t touch us for three years. That’s enough time to get established.”

“We won’t be forming any Houses if you’re dead,” Catalina said, her voice flat. “I’m coming, Nevada. You can’t stop me.”

“Yes, I can. You’re a minor.”

Catalina raised her chin. “I’m a Prime.”

“So am I.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all special,” Arabella said. “But she is right. What if you get shot? Who will take care of us? Who will bring us sushi?”

“I’m doing this,” Catalina said. “I’m not letting them hurt you or Cornelius, or Matilda, or anybody else. My way nobody has to get hurt.”

That’s what I must’ve looked like eight years ago, when I told my parents that they wouldn’t be selling the family firm. That I would take it over and keep it afloat. And I did. I’d been seventeen too.

She was right. If she got involved, we’d cut casualties and injuries down to a bare minimum.

“Fine.” I leaned back. “You’ll do this and then you’ll do your best to disengage.” I turned to Arabella. “You will get her out. You won’t hurt anybody. You will grab your sister and get the hell out of there. No heroics.”

She made a high-pitched squeak. “Okay, boss lady!!!”

“We’re not telling Mom about this,” I said. “We’re not dropping hints and we’re not making cute comments.”

Catalina and I looked at Arabella.

“I won’t say anything.”

“Okay,” I said. I hoped I wouldn’t regret it.

They left my office and I called Rogan. He answered immediately. “Yes?”

“We probably won’t need to besiege the fort. My sisters will be coming.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. “What should I plan for?”

“A strike team big enough to contain Olivia Charles. But we won’t need to storm the castle.”

“You sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t sound thrilled.”

“I’m not.” This probably wasn’t a good time to explain all the difficulties Catalina’s magic caused. “All we need to do is get Catalina to a gathering of people large enough within the fortress. The more people, the better. Trust me?” I hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question.

“Okay,” he said.

Silence stretched. I wanted to see him so badly.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“In my office. Where are you?”

“Outside your front door.”

My heart sped up. I got up, lowered the blinds in my office, locked the door between the business hallway and the rest of the house, and opened the front door. He took the phone from his ear and came inside. We walked into my office. I shut the door behind us, and then his arms closed around me and tomorrow disappeared. He kissed me, long and eager. Memories of him lying next to me naked swirled in my head. I kissed him and kissed him, nibbling on his lip, licking his tongue, stealing his breath . . .

My phone chimed. I ignored it.

His phone beeped.

The intercom came on, Bern’s voice spilling from it. “Nevada, where are you? I need to talk to you. This is urgent.”

Rogan’s phone beeped again, then again, then emitted a high-frequency electronic whine. He growled and put it to his ear. “Yes?”

A tiny voice on the other end said something urgent. Rogan rolled his eyes. “Yes. Yes. No. Handle it. Yes.”

He turned the phone off and tossed it on the table. It went off again. He stared at it as if it were a snake.

“Take it,” I told him.

He turned to me. No trace of Mad Rogan remained in his face. There was just a man and he was frustrated as hell. “When this is over, any place. Anywhere you want.”

“Is that lodge in the mountains real?”

“Yes.”

“Take me there,” I told him.

Ten minutes later I walked into the Hut of Evil to find both of my sisters standing over Bernard’s computer.

My cousin’s face was pale. “Augustine sent this over.”

He clicked a key and a video filled the screen, showing the ultramodern interior of Augustine’s MII office. The camera sat just behind and to the right of Augustine. The door stood open. The normally opaque glass walls sectioning off his workspace were now transparent, and from this vantage point we could see all the way down to the receptionist’s desk. Lina was gone. Instead a young man occupied the chair, busily working on his computer. I’d never seen him before and he probably didn’t know I existed.