gently. “Ask yourself, what is the most obvious and direct way in which you could interfere with the ritual?”
“Okay … okay,” I mumbled in between breaths as I attempted to slow down the thoughts racing through my head, but they were all so jumbled together I began to think out loud. “The ritual must take place on the fourth full moon after they prepared his blood. They took Quinn’s blood in April, and working off the presumption they began preparing it immediately—” Suddenly, it clicked. I looked up at Tartuf triumphantly. “If the Servants don’t have the contaminated blood, they can’t perform the ritual!” I grinned. “Not in July, anyway. They’d have to take more of his blood, which would buy us at least another four months to develop a foolproof plan to get us out of this mess.”
“Very good.” Tartuf nodded with approval. “So, what is the next question you need to ask yourself?”
“How do I get Quinn’s blood back?” I replied quickly.
“Correct,” Tartuf replied with equal satisfaction.
“So, how do I get it back?” I asked uncertainly.
Tartuf wrote two names on the sheet of paper he gave me, Chase and Jaegar, and a phone number. “You need to contact these two. If anyone can help you, they can.”
“Who are they?”
“Moon Mercenaries.”
“‘Moon Mercenaries.’” I remembered Peter warning me they were as dangerous to us as they were to demons. “I was told to steer clear of them.”
“I’ll be the first to admit that Moon Mercenaries are an unsavory bunch,” Tartuf admitted. “But, as a whole, they are quite effective and efficient in doing what they do. And in my experience, these two are the best of the lot for your particular dilemma.”
“How do I contact them?”
“That is Jaegar’s phone number.”
“I’m just supposed to call them and tell them I need their help?”
“Or text them,” he said casually. “Either way, Jaegar is usually quick to respond. Tell him that we spoke, and I gave you his name. Both of them are already aware of your unique situation, but be sure to remind them of the time sensitive nature of this matter.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t crazy about the idea of contacting Moon Mercenaries, but I didn’t know what other choice I had, especially given the time constraints. “So,” I continued, clearing my throat, “what if I can’t get Quinn’s blood back in time. What then?”
“You need a Plan B,” he said perfunctorily.
“A ‘Plan B.’” I sat there a moment and thought about my alternatives. “If I can’t get the blood back, then I have to make sure they can’t get their hands on Quinn. I’ll just have to hide him—no Quinn, no ritual. The blood will spoil, which will still put them back at square one, buying me more time to protect Quinn.”
“I like where you are headed.” Tartuf tapped his lips with his index finger as he looked up at the domed ceiling. “The question is where ? Where could you take him to ensure he would be out of the Servants’ reach?”
I immediately thought of the portal, but pushed the thought aside for fear Tartuf was reading my thoughts. “Umm, well, you seem pretty talented at making yourself scarce. Any ideas?”
“My apologies, but I cannot divulge the location of my current domicile. It’s for the best, actually, that you do not know. But there are places, spaces , so isolated you can almost vanish into thin air.” Tartuf eyed me suspiciously, making my stomach tighten from nerves. “I have heard Mr. Harrison has been unusually difficult to track over the past couple of months. I have also heard your friend Dylan was spending an inordinate amount of his free time with Quinn before agreeing to replace you as Mr. Harrison’s Shepherd. So perhaps the best person to ask for ideas is your colleague, hmm?” Tartuf squinted his eyes, concentrating his efforts on something—as if trying to penetrate my thoughts more deeply.
I nodded, unable to say a word. Tartuf
“Okay … okay,” I mumbled in between breaths as I attempted to slow down the thoughts racing through my head, but they were all so jumbled together I began to think out loud. “The ritual must take place on the fourth full moon after they prepared his blood. They took Quinn’s blood in April, and working off the presumption they began preparing it immediately—” Suddenly, it clicked. I looked up at Tartuf triumphantly. “If the Servants don’t have the contaminated blood, they can’t perform the ritual!” I grinned. “Not in July, anyway. They’d have to take more of his blood, which would buy us at least another four months to develop a foolproof plan to get us out of this mess.”
“Very good.” Tartuf nodded with approval. “So, what is the next question you need to ask yourself?”
“How do I get Quinn’s blood back?” I replied quickly.
“Correct,” Tartuf replied with equal satisfaction.
“So, how do I get it back?” I asked uncertainly.
Tartuf wrote two names on the sheet of paper he gave me, Chase and Jaegar, and a phone number. “You need to contact these two. If anyone can help you, they can.”
“Who are they?”
“Moon Mercenaries.”
“‘Moon Mercenaries.’” I remembered Peter warning me they were as dangerous to us as they were to demons. “I was told to steer clear of them.”
“I’ll be the first to admit that Moon Mercenaries are an unsavory bunch,” Tartuf admitted. “But, as a whole, they are quite effective and efficient in doing what they do. And in my experience, these two are the best of the lot for your particular dilemma.”
“How do I contact them?”
“That is Jaegar’s phone number.”
“I’m just supposed to call them and tell them I need their help?”
“Or text them,” he said casually. “Either way, Jaegar is usually quick to respond. Tell him that we spoke, and I gave you his name. Both of them are already aware of your unique situation, but be sure to remind them of the time sensitive nature of this matter.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t crazy about the idea of contacting Moon Mercenaries, but I didn’t know what other choice I had, especially given the time constraints. “So,” I continued, clearing my throat, “what if I can’t get Quinn’s blood back in time. What then?”
“You need a Plan B,” he said perfunctorily.
“A ‘Plan B.’” I sat there a moment and thought about my alternatives. “If I can’t get the blood back, then I have to make sure they can’t get their hands on Quinn. I’ll just have to hide him—no Quinn, no ritual. The blood will spoil, which will still put them back at square one, buying me more time to protect Quinn.”
“I like where you are headed.” Tartuf tapped his lips with his index finger as he looked up at the domed ceiling. “The question is where ? Where could you take him to ensure he would be out of the Servants’ reach?”
I immediately thought of the portal, but pushed the thought aside for fear Tartuf was reading my thoughts. “Umm, well, you seem pretty talented at making yourself scarce. Any ideas?”
“My apologies, but I cannot divulge the location of my current domicile. It’s for the best, actually, that you do not know. But there are places, spaces , so isolated you can almost vanish into thin air.” Tartuf eyed me suspiciously, making my stomach tighten from nerves. “I have heard Mr. Harrison has been unusually difficult to track over the past couple of months. I have also heard your friend Dylan was spending an inordinate amount of his free time with Quinn before agreeing to replace you as Mr. Harrison’s Shepherd. So perhaps the best person to ask for ideas is your colleague, hmm?” Tartuf squinted his eyes, concentrating his efforts on something—as if trying to penetrate my thoughts more deeply.
I nodded, unable to say a word. Tartuf
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