He sighed and withdrew his hand.

When the three of us were alone, the Grandmaster sat in front of us and gave me a grave look. An attractive woman in her fifties, she had severe, thin lips that seemed out of place on an otherwise round face and plump body. I hadn’t had much contact with her since I’d moved to Morella two years ago; I did my best to avoid the E∴E∴ in my new life.

“What’s going on? Why wasn’t I informed that my parents were coming to the States?” I looked between the two of them. Caliph Superior spoke first.

“We didn’t inform you because we ourselves didn’t know.”

“They haven’t contacted you?”

He shook his head. “No. Nothing has changed. You know that when all of you went into hiding I agreed not to contact your parents, even through our guardians. As far as the authorities go, I’m sure Elona and Alex have hidden themselves well by now. There’s no way to authenticate their identity on the video footage. The FBI will give a cursory search, then move on to something more important when the scandal dies down. You shouldn’t worry about that.”

I nodded. He was probably right.

“Right now,” he added, “we have bigger problems than the FBI.”

“Luxe,” I said in a low voice. “They know, don’t they?”

Based out of San Diego, the Luxe Order was a rival occult organization that boasted a membership of five thousand. Though the E∴E∴ could claim only about two thousand members, we were older and more elite. The two organizations were the largest and most respected of all the international esoteric orders, but often butted heads on philosophy and had a long history of fighting—with both public lawsuits and private magical sabotage. So when the Luxe leader pointed the finger at my parents and cried “killers,” no one in the E∴E∴ was surprised; Luxe would do anything to discredit us.

The Grandmaster crossed her legs and answered. “All the organizations know, but Luxe has taken the lead on this, as usual. Your parents will have to do some deft maneuvering to get away from their spies … but that’s not why we want to talk to you.”

“It’s not?”

Caliph Superior put his hand on top of mine. “Seléne, darling, the Luxe head is demanding that we turn your parents over to them for retribution.”

“Retribution? For crimes they didn’t commit?”

“Yes, but that’s of no consequence at this point. It took us a long time to negotiate and make peace with all the other orders after the killings—especially Luxe. Now that they know we lied to them about your parents being dead, they’ve banded together with the lower orders and they’ve all agreed that they want compensation for their … losses.”

“Losses? What did Luxe lose? No one was even killed in their order. And since when do any of the orders band together for anything?”

“Since now, I suppose. Luxe is the biggest and strongest, so they are the ones chosen by the smaller orders to flex muscle. They’ve issued us a mandate. We have two weeks to hand over your parents to the Luxe Order in a special council they are arranging, or they are declaring magical war against us.”

My chest tightened. Occult societies have a tendency to operate outside the law. I hadn’t lived through a magical war myself, but I’d read accounts of past conflicts. Each order has its own military of sorts, an elite group of magicians proficient in summoning and controlling godforms and Æthyric elder demons—the big, bad immortal kind. Ancient demons that could be bound to kill on command … like the demon that someone had summoned seven years ago, that killed the three rival magicians, whose deaths were pinned on my parents.

The Black Lodge slayings consisted of three separate murders that occurred over six weeks’ time. The first killing was the head of a small hermetic order in England. The second was the head of a similar order in Boston, and the third was the head of a slightly larger order based in Portland.

The fourth and last attempted murder of the leader of the Luxe Order, occurred in San Diego. Only, that attempt failed.

“Luxe has given us one other option,” the Grandmaster said as she toyed with a small charm that dangled from a long silver chain around her neck.

“Yes?” I prompted.

“Give you up as payment for your parents’ alleged sins.”

Alarmed, I stiffened and straightened in my seat.

“Darling, we would never do that,” Caliph Superior assured me, cutting his eyes at the Grandmaster. “You’re far too valuable to our organization.”

“Is that the only reason?” My voice was more acerbic than I intended.

“Of course not,” he replied with a calm tenderness. “I love you as if you were my own flesh and blood. I would give up your parents before I—”

“Caliph!”

“Calm down, child. I’m not suggesting that we do that, either, for the time being.”

“What are you suggesting?”

Caliph Superior held up one finger against his lips then looked at the Grandmaster and made a circular gesture. She got up from her seat and picked up a worn piece of paper off her desk. I recognized the silencing ward drawn on it as she carried it over to the door. Setting it on the floor, she pulled a small lancet out of her pocket, pricked her finger, and squeezed out a single drop of blood onto the spell.

She could have used saliva; whatever they were going to tell me, they really didn’t want anyone else to hear. She lost her balance for a second, then steadied herself. Probably had been doing warding spells all night and needed a rest.