Chapter 12

Maggie's eyes widened as the vision of a cozy, kitschy café faded to reveal the cold, modern reality. With so much mental space freed, I redirected my focus to where I needed it far more.

Sucking in a sharp breath, she pressed her hands to the table as though to stand.

"Don't react," I hissed urgently. "We're being watched."

She settled back into her seat. "What's going on? What did you do?"

"Don't look, but did you notice those two tense-looking people in the corner?"

"Yes, yes. Who are they?"

"MPD agents."

Fear washed over Maggie's face. "What? Why? Are you working for the MPD?"

"I'm just trying to survive."

"We're all trying to survive," she countered angrily. "Don't forget that. We're all trying to keep our heads above water."

I squashed my guilt down. "I didn't get away, Maggie. They caught me, and they've got sixty-one charges piled on my head."

"So you're throwing me to the wolves to save yourself?"

"Not even close," I growled. "You told me once that an anti-telethesian potion is a staple in your emergency kit. Please tell me you have that with you."

"Is one of those agents a telethesian?" She shook her head sharply. "Of course I have a potion, but evading them won't work when they're watching."

My hand clenched around the necklace. "I'll handle that part for us."

"Us?"

"I'm coming with you."

Her eyes widened, then she nodded.

"Go to the restroom and stay there until I call you. Have that potion ready."

She gave me a twitchy, humorless smile, then pushed back from the table. Lienna and Agent Cutter tensed, then relaxed again when she headed for the ladies' room. They already knew there was no way out of the building from that direction.

My heart drummed a nervous beat against my ribs.

There are three basic hallucination tricks I've mastered. The Redecorator was the first one—altering bits and pieces of a space to suit my needs. One of my favorite pranks growing up was targeting a classroom bully or asshole foster parent and moving a curb or a chair a few inches. I can't tell you how many sprained ankles and bruised butts I'm personally responsible for.

People, however, have a presence in the minds of others in a way that white paint and a gumball machine don't. Changing the color of someone's sweater, sure, no problem. But creating a hallucination of a person speaking, moving, or emoting differently while the real deal is in plain view? The human brain resists hard when I try anything like that.

Which was why I needed the real Maggie out of sight before attempting this next part.

I counted to one hundred in my head, then concentrated on the Maggie I knew—which, by the way, was a big help. Knowing her, I mean. Made the hallucination way more convincing.

The bathroom door swung open and Maggie walked out with that same nervous skitter, her attention darting around as it had when she'd entered the café. She walked to our table and stopped beside her chair, fidgeting with a snap on her overalls.

Or so it appeared.

Now for the even harder part.

I stood up from my chair, bent my head toward Maggie, and whispered to her. She nodded, then marched for the door.

Agent Cutter and Lienna lurched to their feet, and I canted my head toward them, giving a quick thumbs-up and a "follow me" gesture. All part of the plan, my smile said.

Lienna lifted the chain of her necklace enough to peer at the cat's eye. Reassured that her anti-psychic spell was in place, she waited as I joined Maggie at the exit. After the door swung shut behind us, the two agents rushed into motion, hurrying out onto the sidewalk in stealthy pursuit.

I watched them go, still sitting in my chair.

Creating a fake-Maggie wouldn't work if she was in view because I couldn't completely disguise the real version. But that limitation? It doesn't apply to me. Faking myself—or even erasing myself—was a piece of halluci-cake.

Keeping my gaze trained out the window, I navigated the vision of me and Maggie across the street and into a busy all-you-can-eat sushi joint. Like the good trackers they were, Lienna and Agent Cutter followed.

The moment they disappeared inside, I dropped the hallucination and yelled, "Maggie!"

The handful of customers and the barista jumped in surprise, but I didn't care. We had no time to waste.

Maggie burst out of the bathroom, her cell phone in one hand and a small vial in the other. As she rushed toward me, I shoved up from my seat and tossed the necklace down.

The cat's eye clattered against the tabletop.

How long before Lienna realized the necklace she wore was the shark-tooth pendant? How long before she realized I'd switched them, and all this time I'd been projecting a vision of the cat's eye pendant into her brain? She'd thought she was safe from my ability, but I'd had her mind in my hold since the moment she removed the protective spell from around her neck.

Slapping her phone down, a text message conversation open on the screen, Maggie yanked the stopper out of the vial and took a sip of the contents, then passed it to me.

I poured the second dose into my mouth. Bitter onion bloomed over my tongue. Yuck.

"It'll only last a few minutes," she warned.

I grabbed her hand. "Then let's go!"

We bolted across the dining floor and behind the counter. Ignoring the barista's angry protest, I hauled Maggie through the back room and out the rear door. We rushed into a damp alley.

Were Lienna and Agent Cutter backtracking yet? If they returned to the café, the barista could point them in our direction.

As we sprinted down the alley, Maggie's phone rang, the sound bouncing off the surrounding buildings. She pressed it to her ear. "We're heading toward 12th Avenue. Can you be there in—yes, perfect!"

"Who was that?" I demanded as we cut left down a narrow street.

"I had someone waiting to pick me up."

Ah, Maggie. So paranoid. I loved it.

Drizzly rain clung to my hair and chilled the back of my neck as we jogged down several more streets and into another alley. Ahead, I could see the corner of 12th. Almost there. Almost safe.

As we raced for the corner, a beat-up sedan the color of a bad sunburn pulled across the alley opening, blocking it. The passenger door swung wide, the driver reaching across the seat to open it, his face in shadow.

A beaming smile of relief spread across Maggie's face, and she sprinted ahead of me. As I scrambled to follow, my own relief lightened my body. Yes! I was escaping! The moment I got in that car, I'd be home free.

"Hi, baby," Maggie gushed breathlessly, sliding onto the seat.

Baby? She had a baby? Since when? A weirdly affectionate, bubbly happiness spread through my chest, competing with the cold suspicion that was overtaking my relief.

I'd been heading for the car's back door, but instead, I veered toward the passenger door. Maggie grabbed the handle to swing it shut in my face. I caught the edge and shoved it back open. Bending down, I looked across her to the driver.

The man smiled in a friendly way. "Hey, Kit."

My mouth hung open. I knew that blond-haired, blue-eyed Garrett Hedlund lookalike.

"Quentin?" I blurted.

"Quentin," Maggie cooed, leaning across the center console to nuzzle his shoulder with her face. "I missed you."

"Missed you too, Mags."

I was… so … confused.

The empath wrapped his arm around her waist as he studied me. "Maggie said you're working with the MPD and you set her up. That true, Kit?"

She hadn't wasted any time filling him in while I lured Lienna and Agent Cutter away, had she?

"I wasn't setting her up," I told him tersely. "I was escaping, just like you did. I want to come with you."

I wasn't sure I wanted to join in on whatever the hell they had going on, but I needed to get in that car. Lienna and Agent Cutter were probably searching for my trail. I had minutes at best, seconds at worst, to disappear.

Quentin arched his eyebrows. "We don't got room in here for traitors."

"I'm a traitor? What about you? You sent Jeff and Geoff after me!" I wasn't sure why that was relevant to the conversation. I could have countered with something about how I'd only cooperated as a way to escape, but I was too distracted by the way Maggie was half crawling into Quentin's lap while cooing affectionately—and the unsettling urge I had to do the same thing.

"I sent them after any MagiPol assholes who were following me. Not my fault you switched sides." He shook his head. "How long have you been their bitch, Kit?"

"I'm still on your side, Quentin. I just needed to get away. Now I'm away."

"Too late, man. Me and Mags were gonna invite you in on our plans, but I'm not risking everything for a rat."

He reached across Maggie and grabbed the door handle. I tightened my grip on the top of the door, opening my mouth to argue.

"Bye-bye, Kit."

His blue eyes fixed on me—and a potent blast of fear weakened my legs. As I staggered backward, he yanked the door from my grasp. It slammed shut. The engine revved, then the car pulled away. It zoomed into the misty rain.

I stared after them, the cold drizzle soaking my hair.

That was it. The two people who were the closest semblances to friends I had in Vancouver had left me on the curb like a heap of useless trash.