“Second room on the right.”
We turned right, and Alessandro swung the second door open. My evil grandmother sat in a hospital bed. A bandage wrapped her head. Her makeup was flawless, her white kaftan blouse and white trousers pristine, and as she glared at me, her eyes were sharp and hard like two pale blue diamonds. Trevor, a human guard dog in an expensive black suit, stood by the bed, his face impassive. If you needed a faceless government agent with a short haircut, shades, and an unreadable expression, you needn’t have looked further.
“Do I not warrant knocking?” my grandmother demanded.
Alessandro turned and knocked on the inside of the open door.
“Yes, very clever,” Victoria Tremaine said.
Her eyes were clear, but her voice had lost some of its crispness. The attack shook her.
This was my fault. I had become so used to thinking of her as this terrifying, unassailable bastion of power that securing her safety had slipped right under my radar. That was what I had forgotten and so desperately tried to remember back in Bern’s Lair. My grandmother was a magical powerhouse. Looking at her now, I didn’t see that. I saw a woman past seventy who had been hiding her fragility for way too long.
Guilt gnawed at me. I had pulled my horrible aunt who didn’t give a damn about us off the street all the way in Mexico, but I had forgotten about my grandmother who was an hour away and actually cared if we lived or died.
I pivoted to Trevor. “What happened?”
“She was attacked in the garden,” he said. “A female guard hit her with a baton on the back of the head.”
“And her body is now cooling in the morgue,” Victoria said. “Problem solved. There was no need for them to contact you or for you to rush over here.”
I had thought Christina showing up was Arkan’s retaliation for us apprehending Matt. I was wrong. This was it. He’d targeted Victoria. He must’ve had it preplanned. It would’ve taken a single phone call and if the guard had been just a little bit quicker or hit a little harder, my grandmother would be dead right now.
I knew my grandmother. She had squeezed every drop of information out of her attacker before she crushed her mind. She wasn’t asking me questions, which meant the guard didn’t know much. She might not have even known who hired her. Right now, Victoria was likely trying to figure out which of her many sins had caught up with her.
I had to take her home.
“Grandmother, it isn’t safe here.”
Victoria scoffed. “Don’t be absurd.”
My phone chimed. A text message from Sabrian, our lawyer.
It’s done.
“We are taking you out of here,” I said.
“You forget yourself,” Victoria snapped. “Nobody takes me anywhere. I make the decisions, and I’ve chosen to stay here.”
She was betting that whoever hired the guard would try again. She wanted a second attack so she could figure out who was behind them.
“Signora Tremaine.”
Alessandro had slid into the Italian form of address, his voice considerate, firm, and reasonable. He must have decided that she would respond better to a formal approach and was using all the powers at his disposal.
“We are being targeted by Ignat Orlov,” he said. “This is not about you. This is about House Baylor. You are a vulnerability.”
Victoria pinned me with her stare. Her magic clamped me in a vise. “And why exactly is a former Russian assassin targeting your House?”
“That’s a private conversation, one I will be happy to have with you when we are safe in the Compound. Our lawyer has made arrangements for an emergency medical release.”
It took a lot of pulling, but she only had six months left on her sentence, and I had anticipated something like this. All the paperwork had been prepped, so plugging in the specific details took almost no time. The Spa was only too happy to get her off their premises.
“We have an armored vehicle,” Alessandro said. “We will transport you with minimal discomfort. As long as you remain here, you will be in danger and House Baylor can’t afford to lose you. We will not survive without your wisdom and guidance.”
The vise around my mind tightened. My grandmother’s eyes bored into mine. Holding her gaze was like trying to stare into the sun. It would burn your mind right through your eyes if you weren’t careful.
“You did not answer my question,” she said.
“Grandmother . . .” I started.
She leaned forward, looking like an ancient predatory raptor. “What are you hiding?”