I nodded, accepting the compliment, while Ethan fumed behind me. But there was no help for it.

She looked at Wilcox, nodded. “Lieutenant.”

“Sunrise is at five forty-eight a.m.,” he said. “In order to make the operation seem as realistic as possible, we propose Merit and Mallory present themselves to Sorcha shortly before that time. We move in, take Sorcha down, and end this.”

“No,” Ethan and Catcher simultaneously said.

I reached back, put a hand on Ethan’s arm. “Where?” I asked.

“Northerly Island,” Wilcox said, looking at me. “It was her idea, but it’s a good one. There’s plenty of open space in the park, good visibility, room for a helicopter on standby to land.”

“How will you neutralize her?” Mallory asked.

“We’re working with Baumgartner,” he said.

“You went to Baumgartner instead of us?” Catcher’s voice was barely controlled fury.

“And the tone of your voice proves that decision was correct,” Lane said. “You aren’t neutral.”

“Damn right I’m not neutral. You’re talking about using my wife.”

“Catcher,” Mallory quietly said, but didn’t turn around.

“Baumgartner and several sorcerers of his choosing will take positions on Northerly Island. When Sorcha arrives to meet Merit and Mallory, we’ll move in and take her down, move her to the supernatural holding facility.”

He said it so simply, with such confidence, that it was easy to understand why the mayor had believed him. I wasn’t sure if he believed his own words—his poker face was impressive—but the chance he’d pull off that plan without a hitch was approximately zero.

“By ‘take her down,’ you mean kill,” Ethan said.

The room went silent.

“Because you certainly know she does not intend to discuss the situation with Merit and Mallory. She doesn’t intend to ‘take’ them, or to question them. She intends to kill them.”

“And we intend to prevent that from happening,” Wilcox said.

“With all due respect, your intentions are worth nothing to me. My wife’s life is worth something to me. Mallory is worth something to me. And your plan is literally a bait and switch,” Ethan said. “She will not fall for it.”

“She doesn’t need to fall for it. She only needs to believe it’s possible we would give them up.”

“Which sorcerers?” Mallory asked, interrupting the byplay.

Wilcox closed his eyes, as if to improve his memory. “I believe he said Simpson, Tangetti, Morehouse.”

I glanced at Mallory, who met my gaze, shook her head just a little bit. They weren’t strong enough to take her, I presumed. I wasn’t sure if that was an assessment of anyone Baumgartner might have chosen, because any sorcerer he allowed in the Order was necessarily weaker than him, or because these particular three were weak, and he’d chosen them as bait for a battle he knew he couldn’t win.

Neither was especially comforting.

“And how are you going to get to her without her noticing?” Mallory asked. “She’ll see a SWAT team coming.”

“The sorcerers will handle that,” Wilcox said. “They’ll arrange for cover for our folks, and neutralize Sorcha when she arrives.”

“And who will be protecting Merit and Mallory?” Ethan asked.

Lane made a sarcastic noise. “You’re saying they can’t protect themselves?”

“I’m saying they should not be thrown to the wolves with no regard for their safety.”

“We’re a little more worried about the safety of every other citizen in this city, Mr. Sullivan. All three million of them.”

“And what’s two lives in exchange for so many?” Ethan asked. “I wonder if your math would change if she’d demanded someone you loved.”

“But she didn’t, did she?” He glanced at Mallory and me. “This is a supernatural problem with a supernatural solution.”

Ethan took a step forward, teeth bared, and Lane flinched back instinctively. Probably his first smart move of the night.

“Say that again to me,” Ethan said. “Tell me again this is a supernatural problem. Show that ignorance one more time, and I will . . . educate you.”

There was little doubt his education would be fierce and physical. Sensing the same thing, the mayor held up a hand. “I understand your concerns, Mr. Sullivan. And I don’t take with negotiating with terrorists.”

“All evidence to the contrary,” Ethan muttered.

The mayor’s brows lifted. “While I am willing to give your people some leeway considering the circumstances, do consider in whose office you are currently standing.”

Ethan didn’t respond, but only a human could have missed the angry energy he pumped out like heat shimmering on asphalt.

Evidently satisfied with his silence, she looked at me. “We need a solution to this problem. You and Ms. Bell are that solution. We cannot allow her to destroy Chicago if a solution exists.”

“She won’t stop,” I said. “This won’t appease her.”

“Of course she will.” Lane stepped forward, arms crossed. “She’s been silent for four months. She heard about the wedding, became enraged, and used her magic accordingly. Or do you think it’s a coincidence the river froze the day after your wedding?”

That thought hadn’t even occurred to me, because Sorcha simply wouldn’t care. I thought she might have interrupted the wedding for the purpose of causing us pain—not because she cared whether we were married. We were irritants to her. Tools to be used. Nothing more, nothing less.

“She wasn’t silent because she was happy or growing a conscience,” Mallory said. “And she didn’t suddenly snap because Merit made it into the Tribune. Again. She’s been working on her magic.” She pointed to the window. “Case in point. This isn’t a card trick, and it’s not something you just whip up with a few pretty words. Sorcha’s an alchemist. That takes times, preparation, and practice.”

“And you are absolutely certain what type of magic she’s using? What she intends to do with it?”

Mallory had no response.

“Precisely,” the mayor said. “You can presume she’s planning something magical, but until you have something concrete, it remains supposition. For now, we cross the bridge in front of us—a very concrete deadline—using the tools at our disposal.” She settled her gaze on us. “I realize, ladies, that we are asking a lot of you. But you’re both longtime residents of Chicago. You were born here, raised here. Your friends and families are here. Consider what you love about this city, and whether the risk is worth saving it.”

When all else failed, go for the guilt.

She glanced at me, at Mallory, surmising we were the deciding votes here. We looked at each other, nodded.

The mayor was visibly relieved, which meant she really thought this plan had a chance of working. She sat back in her chair, which creaked beneath her. “Good,” she said. “Good.”

“We’ll prep for the op at the planetarium,” Wilcox said. “Oh four hundred hours. We’ll tell her the delivery will take place at oh four thirty hours. That gives us time to grab her, and you time to get somewhere dark before the sun rises again.”

“We’ll be there,” I said.

That gave us four hours to come up with a plan that didn’t suck.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

GIRLS ON DEADLINES

Catcher and Ethan were both furious. They managed to hold in their anger in the elevator down to the ground floor, until we walked into the dark street, empty of cars.

“I believe we all have things to say,” my grandfather said. “Perhaps we could find someplace warm to say them?”

Ethan gestured to the small hotel across the street, its front entrance squeezed between a chain doughnut shop and a shoe store, the windows dark in both of them. “They’ll be open despite the weather,” he said, “since they’ll already have guests in the rooms.”