“Wow,” Magda said, watching as Rick waved and followed Janice out without saying anything further. She raised her eyebrows as I carefully closed the door behind them. “That was . . . Frederic? The same Frederic that I met?”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “Somehow he must have escaped jail in Iceland. I wonder how he did that.”

“And he’s the director of the governing board? Whew. No wonder you didn’t like him. Are you really going to do it? Free Mattias and Kristjana, I mean?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Her face screwed up in thought. “Nope. Can’t see any other way out of it.”

“Me either.” I turned off the computer equipment and the lights, preparing to lock up the office.

“Boy, I’d give just about anything to see that delicious Christian’s face when you walk up to his door and ask him for the reapers. You have to take me with you-I can’t possibly miss something that’s going to be so very entertaining.”

“Oh, yes, it’ll be a laugh riot, all right.” My stomach felt like lead, my spirits dampened and drooping like soggy feathers.

She giggled, but watched me closely as I gathered up my things and stuffed them into the leather satchel that I used as a briefcase. I stood her scrutiny for as long as I could before turning to her with an irritated, “What?”

She nodded toward the door. “You were impressive with that woman, you know? It was a side of you I hadn’t seen before.”

“Needs must and all that crap.” I set down the bag and slumped into a nearby armchair. “I just hate it when someone pulls the rug out from under me. It makes me feel so irritable. And now I have two separate groups pulling two separate rugs, and I don’t know how on earth I’m going to do everything they want me to do.”

“Suck it up, buttercup.”