"So explain this to me," Jeremy started. They were sitting in the lobby while one of Courtney's assistants went off to extricate her from the fundraiser — because she's always holding a fucking fundraiser… "How'd they print millions of copies, ship 'em out all over the country, and no one read the thing?"

  Maddie swallowed down the chips she was munching on before answering. "Well, who's gonna believe it?"

  "There had to be a bunch of people working on it, right?"

  "It's a pretty minimalist cover," said Rachel, "so they didn't need a designer, and the rest of the process could have assumed it was just a work of fiction. The editors were obviously in on it, and I'm sure that as soon as it was announced to be genuine, every shipment was already under strict lock and key."

  Jeremy shrugged. He was just making idle conversation. Waiting for Courtney to show up had him fidgeting impatiently. He felt like he needed to be doing something, but he couldn't really think of what that might be. At least Rachel seems to know what she's doin'.

  "Oh, for fuck's sake!" Jeremy growled, getting to his feet. The assistant had returned, an apologetic smile plastered across his dumb face. He didn't make it halfway across the hall before Jeremy was right up in his face. "You told her it was her brother and sister?"

  "Yes, I—"

  "National security concerns?"

  "Exactly as you—"

  "Opportunity of a fuckin' lifetime?"

  Maddie shook her head. "Jere-bear, he didn't even talk to her. Did'ya?" she added, cocking her head to the side.

  Reluctantly, the aide shook his head.

  "Well if she can't come t'us, we're goin' to her," Maddie finished cheerfully. "Rachel, you coming?"

  Rachel sighed. "Yes."

  Jeremy grinned as they swept past the hapless assistant. The poor guy wasn't about to get in the way of the Ashe siblings, or the willowy tower of a girl following in their wake. They bounded up the wide marble staircase, two at a time, and headed straight past the men standing at the door and into the party.

  Boring-ass party, Jeremy sighed as soon as they'd walked in. He'd expected nothing less from a political fundraiser — but even by those standards, it was so stately and refined that he felt like firing his gun into the air for the hell of it, just so there was something happening.

  Of course, their arrival had already caused a stir. It helped that their attire was completely out of place. The fundraiser was mostly black-tie formal wear. While Maddie was at least wearing a business suit, Rachel was dressed in a long dress that clearly didn't fit her right, and Jeremy had on a windbreaker with his pistol visibly holstered at his side, right next to his badge.

  'Bout time I can finally work as myself again… More or less.

  "Where is she?" whispered Rachel, as more and more heads began to flick towards them.

  Maddie stood up on her toes, peering over the crowd. "Table in the corner. She's the one gladhanding the guy who looks like a mob boss."

  "...She's your sister?"

  "Takes after her father," Jeremy shrugged.

  "In personality, too," added Maddie. "Come on, Rachel." She seized Rachel's hand and started pulling her away, weaving through the crowd and tables like a professional. Jeremy did his best to keep up, nearly running over a few curious onlookers that stood up to greet them. The buzz in the room was growing. He doubted anyone actually recognized Rachel, but he and Maddie had both been on the news more than enough.

  "Courtney!" Maddie cried in an overly-affectionate tone that had Jeremy cringing right along with his half-sister. "I didn't know you were going to be at this party!"

  She froze, hands in mid-air from some energetic speech she'd been giving to the cigar-chewing man two seats down. Slowly, the rotund woman twisted on her chair, brushing back long straight hair from her face to eye them through thin-rimmed glasses.

  No wonder Rachel's surprised. She's fat, we're both skinny. She's got straight hair, Maddie's is curly as they come. Courtney looks like she's always trying to win you over, and Maddie looks like she's pulling a prank on you and can't help laughing before it even goes off. I wouldn't call us as siblings either.

  "Madelaine," she said, with a perfectly calculated air of warmth. Jeremy resisted rolling his eyes. "I swear I sent you an invitation. Did your poor secretary misplace it again?"

  "Oh, I'm sure she just filed it into the wrong box. You know, so many invitations cross my desk in D.C., it's a wonder I make it to anything at all!" Maddie waved airily as she took one of the empty seats.

  Courtney's table had been almost entirely empty. The cigar-chewing man looked particularly annoyed by the interruption. Jeremy suppressed a grin as he leaned against the wall, just to pressure them a little bit more. Rachel looked uncertain, but Maddie tapped the chair next to her surreptitiously with her foot, prompting her down as well.

  "Madelaine, this is my friend Howard Mettis."

  "Charmed," said Maddie. "Of Metcon Capital, right?"

  "That's right," he growled. Or maybe that's just his voice, if he smokes shit like that.

  "Don't tell me my darling sister is talking your ear off about campaign donations, is she?" Maddie sighed dramatically. "Only a week after securing her next term and she's right back at it. You have to admire her dedication."

  "Howard," said Courtney, with only a hint of irritation creasing her voice, "this is my half-sister Madelaine, recently re-elected senator for Washington."

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  "Another six years, but who's counting?" Maddie smiled. "Mr. Mettis, you're certainly in the right circle if you're looking to pick the winners."

  "And her brother Jeremy," Courtney added, with a slight flick of the head toward him.

  "The FBI agent?" Mettis said, narrowing his eyes.

  "Yup," said Jeremy, inclining his head.

  "You fucked that one up, didn't ya?"

  Like you have any fucking clue. "Maybe. Maybe not."

  "Oh, let's not get into that ugly business," said Maddie. "Courtney dearest, I was wondering if we could speak in private."

  "Don't you have committee meetings to attend?" said Courtney waspishly.

  "There's no way he calls a lame duck session. He'd get mobbed."

  "Like that's a big deal anymore," huffed Mettis, as bits of ash fell from his unlit cigar.

  "As much as I'd love to debate the finer issues of the modern political system," Rachel cut in, "our business is a bit more urgent than that." Her voice was quiet, but controlled and pointed nonetheless. The sort that compelled attention. It was very different from the uncertainty she'd shown in the car, or the melancholy back in Vancouver.

  "...Who are you?" asked Courtney suspiciously.

  "Part of our private business," said Maddie.

  Courtney frowned. She looked up at Jeremy for some sort of confirmation. He nodded.

  "Howard, please excuse us for a minute," she said, getting to her feet and setting down her drink. "This shouldn't take long."

  Don't bet on it. "Got a private room we can use?" Jeremy asked.

  "There's a few upstairs that should be unoccupied."

  Mettis shrugged. "I need something to drink anyway." As he wandered away toward the open bar, they trooped off toward a hallway leading out of the main ballroom.

  "What are you doing?" Courtney hissed, as soon as they'd exited the mass of guests. "I'm working here, and you bring some giant co-ed into my fundraiser for what? Is this some stupid college prank?"

  "I really wish it was," Jeremy muttered.

  "Not here, Courtney," said Maddie.

  "If I'm leaving a party I organized, I want an explanation, dammit." Courtney stopped right at the exit, in full view of the onlooking guests. "What's this about?"

  "That man you were just talking to," Rachel interjected — again with that compelling, even tone. "Howard Mettis, Metcon Capital. He has personal assets in the two hundred million range, and his investment group is well over a billion. He's made sizeable contributions to a number of Democratic candidates, including Maddie—"

  "He has?" Maddie asked, surprised.

  "Yes. Ten years ago in April, two hundred twelve thousand dollars in total." Rachel turned back to Courtney. "But he's slowed down making contributions to the party in the last few years and seems to be swinging to the middle, if not the right. You're trying to persuade him otherwise, correct?"

  Courtney frowned. "...Yes. Go on."

  "What are you using to convince him?"

  "The usual. The party platform, and promises to reduce red tape and double taxation on his ventures. My personal line."

  "But it's not working. Because someone else has his ear."

  "How did you—"

  "You said it yourself in your conversation, before we walked up."

  She could hear that…? Courtney's eyes widened slightly. "You could hear that?"

  Rachel shrugged. "I have good ears." She glanced back toward the crowd, and Jeremy could see her eyes drift slightly. Not cross-eyed, but almost the opposite, like they were looking in totally opposite directions. Her pupils dilated significantly, huge black dots in the center of her brown eyes.

  "That woman," she said suddenly. She didn't point outright, but a brief shimmer in the air gave her away all the same. It was so subtle that Jeremy could have missed it had he not already been following her gaze.

  "Stacy Vellencamp?" Maddie wondered aloud. "Not likely. They don't run in the same circles at all. Not even the same half of the country."

  Rachel turned back to Courtney. "I don't know what it is exactly, but those two have a very strong, close connection. She has a lot of influence over him. You need to figure out what she wants to get his money."

  Courtney looked up at Rachel, the foot difference in their heights almost comical at such a close distance. "...Let's talk."

----------------------------------------

  "Muuuuch better," said Maddie, lounging on a couch and draining a glass of champagne.

  Courtney had taken them into a private room on the next floor, with a man outside the door and every lock turned. "Are you going to tell me who this kid is yet?" she asked Jeremy, ignoring Maddie entirely.

  "Rachel DuValle," said Rachel, before he could speak. She held out a hand for Courtney to shake. "I've been looking forward to this meeting for years, governor."

  Courtney looked thoroughly unimpressed. "...And?"

  "Use your fuckin' brains," Jeremy sighed. "Who the hell do you think she is, if I'm here?"

  "Enough of the games. You got your private meeting," Courtney said testily. "Even if I did get a leg up on Mettis, I'm still losing a lot of face right now."

  "Mom would be so proud," Maddie murmured, barely audible across the room.

  "I'm one of the survivors of Rallsburg," Rachel interjected. Before Courtney could even start to react to that, Rachel kept going — as if she wanted to just get everything over with as fast as possible. "I believe the upcoming Rallsburg Diaries book is one hundred percent accurate, and will quite probably lead to a mass influx in the near future. I'm also the last elected representative of the Awakened, and this is my formal extension of greeting to you as the governor of the state we reside in."

  "...She serious?" Courtney asked Jeremy.

  "As a fuckin' bomb."

  Courtney reached out slowly and shook Rachel's hand. "I… see."

  "I realize this is a lot of information in a short span," Rachel went on, dropping the handshake as quickly as she'd offered it. "But we don't have a whole lot of time. The book is scheduled to go on sale Tuesday, and things will happen very quickly from that date."

  "Things like what, exactly?"

  "Oh come on, Courtney, don't tell me you didn't even look at that damn book," said Maddie, sitting up awkwardly on the couch. "Everyone's about to find out magic's real. They're gonna want a taste of it for themselves. Washington's 'bout to become the hottest tourist attraction in the whole fuckin' world."

  "You're about to have an event of unprecedented scale on your doorstep, governor," Rachel added, "and I'd like to help. I may be the only person in the world with the resources and experience to do so."

  "How?"

  "Before I explain, I'd like to make clear what I need from you."

  Good, she learned. Make the terms clear before Courtney can fuck you over later. Courtney frowned, and Jeremy saw her eyes flick over to Maddie for a fraction of a second. Yeah, bitch, we coached her. Deal with it. "I'm listening."

  Rachel cleared her throat. "Full amnesty for my people on any crimes they may or may not have committed while residents of Rallsburg. A protective detail for my family and amnesty for fleeing the country while wanted for questioning."

  "That one's a federal crime," Jeremy cut in. "Courtney can't do shit about that. But we can probably still swing it."

  Rachel nodded. "I'll have a full list of requests for you, but that's the general idea. We need protection."

  "This is something to do with the increase in random unexplained deaths in the Olympic region, isn't it?" Courtney asked, furrowing her brow.

  "Someone's hunting us," Rachel confirmed.

  "And 'us' is…"

  "People with access to magic."

  Courtney sighed. "This is going to be a long night."

  "No kiddin'," said Jeremy.

  As Rachel began to detail more of her requests, as well as exactly how she could help Courtney in the coming weeks, Jeremy stepped out of the room. He trusted Maddie would make sure Courtney didn't abuse Rachel. Somebody had called him from a number he hadn't recognized, and while normally he'd just assume it was a spam caller and ignore it… he'd given out his number to a fair number of useful contacts lately. Could be anyone.

  It took seven rings for the other end to finally pick up. "You called me?"

  "...Mr. Ashe, right?"

  Who the fuck is this? He sounds like a high schooler. "I give you a card?"

  "Yeah. I… I need your help."

  "Who is this again?"

  "Jonathan Hudson."

  "The magician, right? Theater kid?"

  "...Yeah."

  Please don't be wastin' my time… "What's goin' on?"

  "I'm scared. I think they're coming for me."

  "You mean—"

  "They're gonna kill me."