Nico rose to his feet, approaching the bars. “I didn’t realize it’d be so difficult.” On second thought, though, he probably should have.
“There are a lot of defensive wards up,” Gideon said. “More than I would expect.”
“Even mental ones?”
“Especially mental ones.” Gideon plucked something in the air like a guitar string. “See that? Someone over there is a telepath.”
Parisa, probably, if what Tristan implied was correct, though Nico doubted that particular ward was her doing. It must have been a thread within a larger shield against telepathy, which made sense. Not every variety of theft required a corporeal form of entry.
He glanced up, looking for a camera （or the iteration of one）， and spotted it in the corner.
“Well,” Nico said, pointing to it. “Try not to say anything too incriminating.”
Gideon looked over his shoulder, shrugging. “I haven’t got much to say, to tell you the truth.” A pause, and then, “Avez-vous des problèmes? Tout va bien?”
“Si, estoy bien, no te preocupes.” Anyone watching could probably translate, but that wasn’t really the point. “I suppose we shouldn’t do this too often, then.”
Gideon inclined his head in apparent agreement. “You’re not properly sleeping when I’m here,” he pointed out. “And judging by this place’s security, you’re going to need all your energy.”
“Yes,” Nico sighed, “probably.”
“Is Libby there?”
“Yes, somewhere.” He grimaced. “Though you’re not supposed to know that.”
“Well, it was more of a lucky guess, really.” Gideon tilted his head. “You’re being nice to her, aren’t you?”
“I’m always nice. And don’t tell me what to do.”
Gideon’s smile broadened.
“Tu me manques,” he said. “Max hasn’t noticed you’re gone, of course.”
“Of course not.” A pause. “Y yo también.”
“Strange without you around.”
“I know.” Not really. It didn’t feel real yet, but it would soon. “Is it quiet, at least?”
“Yes, and I don’t like quiet,” Gideon said. “Makes me suspect my mother’s going to surface from the garbage disposal.”
“She won’t, we had a talk.”
“Did you?”
“Well, she surprised me in the bath,” said Nico. “Still, I’d say she’s fairly well persuaded.” Or something close enough, he thought grimly.
“Nicolás,” Gideon sighed, “déjate.”
“I’m only trying to h-”
He broke off as the bars warped, Gideon’s face disappearing. He opened his eyes to jarring darkness, someone shaking him awake.
“There’s someone here,” said a voice he didn’t recognize for a moment, and Nico groggily struggled to sit upright.
“What? It’s just my friend, he’s not—”
“Not in your head.” It was Reina’s voice, he realized, adjusting to make out the general shape of her face in the dark. “There’s someone in the house.”
“How do you—”
“There are plants in every room. They woke me.” She was using a tone that sounded like stop talking. “Someone is trying to get inside, if they aren’t here already.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know,” she said, brows creased. “Something.”
Nico reached over, pressing a hand to the floor to feel the wood pulse beneath his palm.
“Vibrations,” he said. “There’s definitely someone here.”
“I know that. I told you.”
Well, better if he could take care of it alone, or close to alone. Reina had probably done him a favor waking him first.
Ah, but he’d said he wouldn’t do things alone.
“Wake Rhodes,” Nico said on second thought, rising to his feet. “She’s in the last—”
“The last room on the right, I know.” Reina was gone quickly, without asking questions. Nico crept out into the house, listening for a moment. Libby was better at listening; she was more attuned to waves of things, usually sound and speed, so he gave up and started feeling instead. He could sense the disruption from somewhere downstairs.
The middle door opened, revealing Parisa in the frame.
“You’re thinking very loudly,” she informed him with palpable distaste, as Libby emerged from her room.