“Good, you do that,” I said. My mouth quirked up in a smile. “Seriously, you old toad… it will be good to work with you, officially this time.”
“Oh, it won’t be me,” McGough said. “My relationship with the Guild is strictly incognito-has to be, or I couldn’t help prosecute crimes. The Guild picked someone you already know, a friend with good relations with the Guild here and in San Francisco… ”
At first I was completely baffled. Then I slowly realized there was only one person he could have meant, although I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why they’d picked him. “Alex?” I said. “Alex Nicholson? Valentine’s former assistant? The fire magician?”
McGough smiled. “Right first time, you tattooed witch.”
“Oh, blow me, you old toad,” I said, grinning back at him. “Hey, can we go get some coffee? I’ve been up since seven yesterday, and we can fill each other in on the walk.”
We talked on the way to Starbucks, me filling him in on all that had happened and him filling me in on what stake the Wizard’s Guild wanted with the Council. After I had a full cup of coffee in me, felt a bit more energized, I steeled myself and asked the question.
“One more thing, you old toad,” I said. “Can you give me a ride?”
“Where to, you tattooed witch?” McGough asked.
“City Hall East,” I said, holding out my hands. “I need to turn myself in.”
McGough scowled, then pulled out his handcuffs. “All right,” he said. “It is time.”
At Homicide, I was questioned. Oh, was I questioned: first by McGough, then by Rand, then by Philip, and then by more detectives and agents, for hours and hours and hours. Helen Yao had to practically sit on Damien Lee whenever I mentioned anything even vaguely nefarious. But something… different… was in the air, and eventually it was Assistant District Attorney Paulina Ross who came in and spilled the beans on why I hadn’t been charged.
“I received a package in the mail,” Ross said. “New evidence in the case against you.”
“What kind of evidence are we talking about here?” Lee said. “The U.S. Postal Service is not a typical link in the chain of evidence.”
“Not for the prosecution,” Ross said, with a slight smile, “but for the defense… gold.”
Lee’s jaw dropped. “Do you have a present for me, Miss Ross?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “A box of videotapes. The security cameras from the Masquerade.”
Now my jaw dropped.
“I’m having them checked out, but I think they’re genuine,” Ross said. “And they show, from multiple angles, virtually the whole assault on you, Miss Frost. What you did was clearly self-defense. I could never in good conscience push this forward. We’re dropping all charges.”
I was stunned. “Thank you… but… how? ” I said. “The person who took the tapes… I can’t see why he would have kept them… ”
“There was a note attached,” Ross said, somewhat uncomfortable. “It said, ‘Lay off Frost. Valentine had it coming,’ and it was signed, ‘T.’”
“Transomnia,” I said, rubbing my tongue over the implants in my right jaw where he’d knocked out two of my molars. “Now isn’t he the gift that keeps on giving?”
“This has come up more than once,” Ross said, “and I hate to even raise it-but I have to. Do you have some kind of agreement with the vampire Transomnia?”
“Now, now,” Lee said smoothly. “My client isn’t admitting-”
“Hush, Damien,” I said. “Ross, you saw the tape. If Transomnia hadn’t turned on Valentine, I’d be dead, and my skin would be the new lid on his damn box-but Transomnia didn’t do it for my health. He basically used me to free himself from Valentine.”
“And?” Ross said.
“Well, there’s a reason he used me. Dumb old me screwed up his attempt to escape Valentine by getting him fired from the Oakdale clan. He was under a control charm. Outside the influence of a more powerful vampire, he had no choice but to go back to Valentine.”
“So he… convinced Valentine to make you his next victim,” she said slowly, “knowing that you had the skills to free him from bondage?”
“Or, more likely, hoping to watch me die on the table, and to then lick the scraps,” I said. She looked away. “But at some point, I think he decided I was powerful enough to free him, and took a gamble. Afterward, our agreement was to leave each other the hell alone.”
Ross looked back at me, then nodded. “I can’t blame you,” she said. “And not just for defending yourself. The security cameras were running through the whole Masquerade. They showed not just what was happening to you… but who you were doing it for.”
“For Cinnamon,” I said. “They had Cinnamon… ”
“I know,” Ross said. “And I’ve shown these tapes to Janet McCarthy of DFACS. She’s calling for a special meeting. Almost certainly, they’re going to drop their case.”
“Which means… ” I stood up. “I’m going to get Cinnamon back!”
And so, on Wednesday, the first of March, over two months after I’d first dropped her off at the Academy, I turned up the drive to see Cinnamon standing there at the curb waiting for me between Fremont and Palmotti. She was wearing a brand new school uniform, new shoes, and had a sharp little denim bag bulging with schoolbooks.
And perched on her tiny nose were cute, owlish glasses, hooked into earrings at the base of her cat ears. “Don’t say anything,” Cinnamon said, adjusting them. “Not one word.”
“Not even cuuuute?” I said, stepping off my bike and tousling her hair.
“ Faahh! ” she said, twitching. “Mom! They are not cute. They’re. .. necessary.”
“Exactly right,” Palmotti said. “A lot of werecats, including weretigers, are nearsighted. They get that from the cat DNA in their Niivan organelles.”
“You had to have paid for those,” I said quietly. And he’d researched it. “Thank you.”
Palmotti smiled, sadly, and a bit tired; then he gestured towards Cinnamon. “She’s a handful, but also a treasure. Godspeed to you and your daughter, Miss Frost. I’m sorry she was taken from you. I just hope that in the time I had her, I did her a little good.”
And then, without saying goodbye, he turned and limped off.
We watched him go. Cinnamon stepped in front of me. I let my hand fall on her shoulder, and sighed. All was right in the world again. But… her breath caught as he walked away.
“Go give him a hug and thank him,” I said. “You probably won’t see him again.”
Cinnamon snapped her head, but before something awful popped out, she reached up and bit down on her knuckle. After a moment, she released herself.
“No,” she said, sniffling. “He knows how I feels.”
He got into his car and drove away, and Cinnamon took a big deep sigh. Then she turned into me, burying her head into my chest. “Mom,” she said. “Let’s go home.”
“Where’s that?” I said, patting her head. “We got kicked out, and can’t move in yet-”
“Your house, your hotel, a cardboard box by the Chattahoochee,” Cinnamon said. “Wherever you are, Mom, that’s where home is.”
“All right, Cinnamon,” I said, holding her close. “Let’s go home.”
Payoff
The adoption went through. Cinnamon and I are mother and daughter for real now. I think it actually scares her. She was so glad to have someone who cared for her, I don’t think she realized she was also getting someone who was responsible for her, both in good times and bad.
We moved into our new house the same week the adoption went through-thanks to the Valentine Foundation. I had to swallow my pride and settle with them, but the truth was, they couldn’t pay up, any more than I could buy a house out of pocket. Valentine never expected to lose his Challenge, so coughing up a million bucks would have bankrupted his Foundation.
But, just like a house payment, the Foundation could pay up over time. So, in exchange for letting the payments stretch out over the next ten years (and for not suing them), I got the Valentine Foundation to pony up the closing costs on the house (and my legal fees).
Once Cinnamon and I really were home, and everything was settled, we had a long walk, and a long talk. She looked crushed. She didn’t hear me say how glad I was she was home and alive; all she seemed to hear was how disappointed I was in her, how irresponsible she had been, how upset I was to find she’d been running out with Tully almost every night.