Chapter 5

      The disquieting flicker of energy that emanated from Dev Gideon’s skin hadn’t dissipated until Ione was beyond the temple. There was something odd about a witch who seemed to project a magical aura even when he was simply sitting still. Maybe he was glamoured. It would account for how unfairly attractive he was. But even Carter hadn’t emanated such ceaseless power. Dev was like a live wire emitting a warning hum.

      The light was blinking on her answering machine when she arrived upstairs, and her insides gave a stupid little jump of anticipation, as if the message might be from Dev. Why on earth would she care if he called her? If he did, it would only be to tell her she was being removed from her position. Or worse.

      She played the message as she undressed. It was from Phoebe. Funny. Phoebe hadn’t even been speaking to her for months—maybe years, if one wanted to get technical—before this mess had thrown them together. Ione had been the one leaving unanswered messages.

      “Ione, I know you don’t want to be bothered right now, but something’s happened.”

      She paused in pulling on her yoga pants.

      “I don’t like talking on a machine. Could you please call me? This is serious. I’m kind of freaking out over here.”

      Images of Theia and Rhea lying mangled on the freeway like the bodies of their parents eleven years ago seized her, and Ione sucked in her breath as if someone had punched her in the gut. No. No, please. Don’t let it be one of the twins.

      She grabbed the phone and hit Phoebe’s number on speed dial. Her sister picked up immediately.

      “Phoebe, it’s me. What is it? What’s happened? Are they okay?”

      “They?”

      “The twins. You said something happened.”

      “Oh, God, no. Nothing like that. They’re fine. I mean, as far as I know. I haven’t talked to them. I wanted to talk to you first.”

      The pressure squeezing her heart and lungs eased. “What, then? You said it was serious.”

      “I’ve been over at Rafe’s for a few days. We brought Puddleglum with us. Thank goodness.”

      Ione rolled her eyes. Phoebe treated that cat like it was her baby.

      “When I got home this afternoon, there was—someone left—something...on my porch.”

      Ione’s stomach clenched. “A dead cat.”

      “Damn. You, too?”

      “At the temple this morning. There was a note.”

      “Yeah, I got a note, too. ‘Righteousness will not dwell in an unclean temple.’ I don’t even know what that means.”

      “Was it signed ‘Nemesis’?”

      “Maybe. The handwriting was so stylized. I think it’s written in blood. I thought it said Genesis.” A rustling sound followed before Phoebe spoke again. “Yeah, I think that’s it, after all. Nemesis. Who’s Nemesis?”

      Ione sighed. “I don’t know, but the note I got was a little more detailed. Nemesis laid out a disputation in ten theses explaining why my impure blood was polluting the Covent, promising to purify the temple.”

      “Oh, hell. I’m sorry.”

      “Whoever he or she is, I think Nemesis is working with Carter.”

      Phoebe made a sharp noise of disapproval. “Goddamn him. I thought we were done with his sorry ass.”

      “Whose sorry ass?” Rafe’s deep, baritone voice came from the background.

      Phoebe snorted. “One guess, babe. I’m putting you on speaker, Di.” Only her sisters got to call her that. Anyone else would find themselves on the receiving end of a palm-heel strike to the sternum.

      Rafe’s voice became clearer. “You think this is Hamilton’s doing?”

      Ione shrugged at the phone. “Nemesis brought up the ‘Lilith gene.’ Who else knows about it besides us? You haven’t told anyone else, have you, Phoebe?”

      “Oh, shoot. You know, I did take out that full-page, coming-out ad in the Sedona Demon Times. Should I not have done that?”

      Ione was used to pretending her little sister hadn’t spoken. “Besides the five of us, Carter’s the only one who knows.” She sighed. Might as well tell them about the birds. “This wasn’t the first dead animal I was gifted with, either. I’ve been finding dead crows on my doorstep.”

      “Crows.” The symbolism seemed significant to Phoebe.

      “Why, does that mean something?”

      “That’s one of Rafe’s naguals.”

      This was news to Ione. “You have more than one nagual?”

      Rafe cleared his throat as though Phoebe had mentioned something indelicate. “I transformed into a crow early in the quetzal’s awakening. I believe it was a subconscious response to Hamilton using his necromantic powers to become the coyote when he was appropriating the authority of Quetzalcoatl’s nemesis, Tezcatlipoca.”

      Nemesis. There was that word again.

      “It does seem like Hamilton’s MO.” Rafe paused. “Why were you at the temple on a Saturday morning?”

      “They sent a Covent assayer to investigate me—sort of a magical insurance claim adjuster—and he was there, along with the entire coven, when we discovered the cat.”

      “No.” Phoebe managed to give that one little monosyllabic word the weight of an entire sentence.

      Rafe was subdued. “I’m so sorry about all this, Ione.”

      “I suppose it was inevitable. And this is not your fault, Rafe. I just wish they’d sent an actual licensed investigator so we could find out how Carter’s doing this. If he’s communicating with someone on the outside, I don’t think we have a legal right to know.” She paused. “There must be some private investigators you work with through the Public Defender’s Office, Phoebe. Maybe there’s someone you can recommend?”

      “Um, yeah, about that...”

      “You might as well tell her, babe.”

      Ione’s entire body went tense, like it used to when Phoebe’s high school would call to tell her legal guardian about her latest trip to the principal’s office. “Tell me what?”

      “I don’t work for the PD’s office anymore. I quit my job to apprentice as a private investigator.”

      Ione’s blood pressure shot through the roof. “You quit your job? You spent three years getting that law degree, Phoebe. Not to mention all the