I was working with Barbara Fisher to communicate with shades. It goes against the Covent’s creed.”
“No kidding.” Despite her skepticism, Phoebe couldn’t help but be intrigued. She hadn’t pegged Diamante for a spiritual maverick. “If you don’t mind my saying, you don’t really look like the type to buck the system.” If anything, he looked like the type who owned the system.
Diamante slipped his hands into his pockets. “My little brother died a few years ago. Broke into one of my father’s construction sites to party after his senior prom and fell to his death trying to impress some girl. His shade visited me.” He’d been glancing down as he spoke, but he looked up and met Phoebe’s eyes. “I insisted on crossing him over. He didn’t want to go. He seemed confused, not understanding he’d died, but I stuck to the strict doctrine and cast the crossing spell. I exorcised my own brother from the mortal plane. And he was sobbing and begging for mercy when he went.”
“Jesus.” It was an ironic exclamation in such a pagan context, but it was automatic from her years in the church. Not that she’d set foot in one recently.
“You have to understand, the fear behind the doctrine is real—shades are vulnerable to being manipulated by unscrupulous practitioners—”
“Like me, you mean.”
Diamante sighed. “I didn’t say it. But some people do take advantage of step-ins...” He paused, the pink returning to his ears. “Is it okay to call them that? The shades, I mean.”
“Of course. If they’re stepping in, that’s what they are. It’s using the term to describe the person hosting the step-in that’s offensive. The implication being the host has no soul of her own.” Phoebe studied him as she relaxed her stance. Rafe Diamante was a marvelous bundle of contradictions. She’d never met anyone so thoroughly belligerent and sure of himself yet so quick to express self-conscious awareness of his own ill-mannered behavior. The pink-tipped ears were downright hot.
Diamante shrugged and took his seat once more. “Some people take advantage of them, and often for unsavory purposes. The Covent doctrine that it’s unnatural for them to remain here is based on centuries of experience. Crossing them over is meant to be an act of kindness. But in practice, it seems to me it’s an act of self-righteousness. After Gabriel, I knew it was wrong. Since then, I’ve argued against crossing a shade against its will. And I’ve been branded an oath-breaker.”
Phoebe dropped back into her chair and set the tablet on the table, ready to take notes. “So you’re out of the Covent, then.”
Diamante’s mouth opened but before he could answer, the door swung open, admitting a pair of well-dressed witches and a flustered desk officer.
The officer glared at Phoebe. “She said she was his legal counsel.”
“Mr. Diamante already has legal counsel. We’ll handle this, Phoebe. Thanks for coming by.” Ione held the door open for her.
Phoebe rose, bristling. “He called me.”
“This is a serious matter that requires an experienced legal team. We’ve got it covered.” Her sister flipped her expensively straightened and ombréd hair over her shoulder as she took the seat opposite Diamante, all maternal concern. “Why didn’t you call us, Rafe?”
The officer took Phoebe’s arm. “Ms. Carlisle.”
Phoebe cast one last glance at Diamante, who skirted her gaze. “Yeah, I’m going.”
Well, that had gone swimmingly. Rafe rubbed his hands over his face with a quiet groan. He’d actually called her a goddamn Girl Scout. And if she was a Girl Scout, he was having really inappropriate thoughts.
The golden-haired, overgrown frat boy who’d arrived with Ione Carlisle held out his hand when Rafe glanced up, an overly confident smile showing professionally whitened teeth. Rafe had seen him at the temple earlier that week when the Conclave had convened.
“Carter Hanson Hamilton.”
Rafe shook the offered hand and tried not to roll his eyes. The name sounded like it should be a law firm all by itself.
“The Covent has me on retainer, Mr. Diamante. Don’t worry—we’ll have you out of here in no time.”
Rafe glanced at the high priestess—impeccably dressed and professional, she couldn’t have been more different from her sister. “I appreciate your coming down here, but I had things under control.”
Hamilton answered for her. “I’m sure the younger Ms. Carlisle is a fine public defender, but you’re not exactly the public, Mr. Diamante. You can’t afford to make any mistakes here. The Covent takes care of its own.” Hamilton was still standing, which irked him unreasonably.
Rafe got to his feet to meet him at eye level and leaned back against the wall with his arms folded—as if he hadn’t just been found with a dead woman and brought in on suspicion of murder. “I wasn’t aware I was still one of the Covent’s own. Did I not just get slapped with a scarlet W?”
Ione spoke before Hamilton could cut her off again. “Rafe, the Covent has to take matters of doctrinal dissent seriously. We can’t all follow our own brand of the craft. That’s for Eclectics. As a respected member of the Sedona Coventry, you’re held to a higher standard. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to throw you to the wolves when you’re in trouble. Even if ignoring the wishes of the Covent is what put you there.”
“Ione’s right.” Hamilton sat, leaving Rafe the only one standing. “This situation is a direct result of your oath-breaking, and I’m sure it’s brought home to you just why the proscription against allowing shades to continue to occupy the physical plane is in place. But the Covent intends to stand by you. We’re all unified on that front.”
Rafe scowled. “Unified. Like you were when my apprentice spoke in support of my position at the Conclave.”
Ione maintained a stern expression but the color in her high cheekbones wasn’t all cosmetic. “You had a responsibility to Matthew—to groom him and guide him, not fill his head with false doctrine.”
“He made one misstep and you dismissed him from his apprenticeship.”
The stern look faltered. “It was a misstep in front of the entire Conclave, Rafe. If I hadn’t responded swiftly and firmly, the entire Sedona Coventry would have been in jeopardy.”
“Well, now he’s missing. You know that, right?” Rafe glanced at Hamilton, but his expression was neutral. “He disappeared right after you all presented your unified front against him. So I guess the Conclave won’t have to worry about my bad influence on him anymore.”
“It’s an unfortunate situation, but ‘missing’ is a strong word. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. And I’d think that would be the least of your worries right now.” Carter gave him a patronizing smile. “Luckily, I’m on your team.”
Rafe stifled a snort. Yay. Lucky him.
* * *
Rain battered the car as Phoebe
