The Indigo Spell

I thought back to one of my more disturbing memories of the Warrior arena. I’d heard one of them make a mysterious comment about how someday, they’d deal with the Moroi too.

“But what do you guys actually do?” Talking about rebellions and covert operations was one thing, but actually effecting change was another. I’d visited my sister Carly at her college and seen a number of student groups who wanted to change the world. Most of them sat around drinking coffee, talking a lot and doing little.

Marcus and Sabrina exchanged glances. “I can’t quite get into our operations,” he said. “Not until I know you’re on board with breaking your tattoo.”

Breaking your tattoo. There was something sinister—not to mention permanent—about those words, and I suddenly wondered what I was doing here. Who were these people, really? Why was I even humoring them? Then another, almost terrifying thought hit me: Am I doubting them because of the tattoo’s control? Is it making me skeptical around anyone who questions the Alchemists? Is Marcus telling the truth?

“I don’t really understand that either,” I told them. “What it means to ‘break’ the tattoo. Do you just mean putting ink over it?”

Marcus stood up. “All in good time. Right now, we’ve got to get out of here. Even if you were discreet, I assume you used Alchemist resources to find me?”

I hesitated. Even if these guys were legitimate and had good intentions toward the Moroi, I certainly wasn’t going to reveal my involvement with magic. “Something like that.”

“I’m sure you’re good, but we can’t take the chance. This place has been compromised.” He cast a wistful glance around the studio. Honestly, I thought he should be grateful I’d given him a reason to leave.

Sabrina rose as well, her face hardening. “I’ll make sure the secondary location is ready.”

“You’re an angel, as always,” he told her.

“Hey, how did you know I was coming?” I asked. “You had time to hide and call her.” What I really wanted to know was how he’d seen me through the invisibility spell. I’d felt the magic fill me. I was certain I’d cast the spell correctly, but he’d discovered me. The spell wouldn’t work if someone knew to look for you, so maybe he’d happened to glance out the window when I was scaling the fire escape? Worst timing ever.

“Tony warned me.” Marcus flashed me another of those dazzling grins. I think he was trying to make me smile back. “Good kid.”

Tony? Then I knew. The boy in the parking lot. He’d pretended to help me and then sold me out. He must have spoken to Marcus while I climbed the fire escape. Maybe Marcus only answered to some secret knock. At least I had the comfort of knowing I’d cast the spell correctly. It simply hadn’t worked because Marcus had advance warning that some girl was coming after him.

He began packing up his meager belongings into a backpack. “The Catcher in the Rye is a great book, by the way.” He winked. “Maybe someday we’ll have a literary discussion.”

I wasn’t interested in that. Watching him, I saw that he kept favoring his uninjured wrist. I couldn’t believe I’d caused damage like that and felt a little guilty, despite everything that had happened. “You should get that taken care of,” I said. Sabrina nodded in agreement.

He sighed. “I can’t. At least, not through conventional means. The Alchemists have eyes everywhere.”

Conventional means.

“I, uh, might be able to help you get it healed through unconventional means,” I said.

“You know some off-the-grid doctor?” asked Sabrina hopefully.

“No. But I know a Moroi spirit user.”

Marcus froze, and I kind of liked that I’d thrown him off guard. “Seriously? We’ve heard of them but never met one. That woman they had—Sonya? She was one, right? She was gone before we could find out more.”

Talking about Adrian made me nervous, but Sabrina probably already knew he existed if they’d been watching me. “Yeah, she was one, and there’s another in Palm Springs. I could take you to him and let him heal you.”

Excitement lit Marcus’s features. Sabrina looked at him in horror. “You can’t just go off with her.” Was that concern or jealousy in her voice?

“Why not?” he asked. “She’s taking a leap of faith with us. We can’t do any less. Besides, I’m dying to meet a spirit user. The safe house isn’t that far from Palm Springs. You make sure everything’s in order and then come pick me up later.”

Sabrina didn’t like that, not at all. Maybe I didn’t understand the dynamics of their group yet, but it was obvious she regarded him as a leader and was insanely protective. In fact, I suspected her feelings for him were more than professional. They went back and forth on whether he’d be safe or not, and I listened without a word. All the while, I wondered if I’d be safe heading off with some unknown guy. Clarence trusted him, I reminded myself. And he’s pretty paranoid. Besides, with Marcus’s wrist out of commission, I could probably take him.

He finally convinced Sabrina to let him go but not before she snarled, “If anything happens to him, I’m coming after you.” Apparently her hard-core character in the arena hadn’t been entirely faked.

We parted ways from her, and before long, Marcus and I were on the road to Palm Springs. I tried to get more information out of him, but he wouldn’t bite. Instead, he kept complimenting me and saying things that were only one step away from pickup lines. Judging from the way he’d bantered with Sabrina too, I didn’t think there was anything particularly special about me. I thought he was just used to women fawning all over him. He was cute, I’d give him that, but it took a lot more than that to win me over.

It was sunset when we pulled up to Adrian’s apartment, and I belatedly wondered if I should’ve given him some advance warning. Too late now.

We walked up to the door, and I knocked three times. “It’s open,” a voice called from within. I stepped inside, and Marcus followed.

Adrian was working on an abstract painting of what looked like a crystalline building from some fantasy world. “Unexpected treat,” he said. His eyes fell on Marcus and widened. “I’ll be damned. You found him.”

“Thanks to you,” I said.

Adrian glanced over at me. A smile started to form—and then instantly dried up. “What happened to your face?”

“Oh.” I lightly touched the swollen spot. It still smarted but wasn’t as painful as it had been earlier. I spoke my next words without thinking. “Marcus hit me.”

I’d never seen Adrian move so fast. Marcus had no chance to react, probably because he was exhausted from our earlier encounter. Adrian shoved Marcus up against a wall and—to my complete and utter astonishment—punched Marcus. Adrian had once joked that he never dirtied his hands, so this was something I never could have prepared myself for. In fact, if Adrian was going to attack someone, I would’ve expected something magical and spirit-driven. Yet . . . as I watched him, I could see that anything as thoughtful as magic was far from Adrian’s mind. He had kicked into primal mode. See a threat. Go after it. It was yet another surprising—yet fascinating—side of the enigma that was Adrian Ivashkov.

Marcus quickly got his bearings and responded in kind. He pushed Adrian back, wincing a little. Even with his injury he was still strong. “What the hell? Who are you?”

“The guy that’s going to kick your ass for hurting her,” said Adrian.

He tried another punch, but Marcus dodged and managed to land a hit that knocked Adrian back into one of his easels. When Marcus swung again, Adrian eluded him with a maneuver that was straight out of Wolfe’s class. I would’ve applauded him if I wasn’t so appalled by the situation. I knew some girls thought it was sexy to have men fight over them. Not me.

“You guys, stop!” I cried.

“No one’s going to throw you around and get away with it,” said Adrian.

“What happened with us has nothing to do with you,” retorted Marcus.

“Everything about her has to do with me.”

The two circled around each other, waiting for the other to pounce. “Adrian,” I exclaimed. “It was an accident.”

“Doesn’t look like an accident,” he replied, never taking his eyes off Marcus.

“You should listen to her,” growled Marcus. The easygoing guy I’d met earlier was gone, but I guess being attacked would do that to you. “It might save you from getting your pretty face wrecked. How much styling did you have to do to get your hair like that?”

“At least I brush my hair,” said Adrian.

Marcus lunged forward—but not directly at Adrian. He grabbed a painting off an easel and used it as a weapon. Adrian again managed a dodge, but the painting didn’t fare so well. The canvas tore, and Marcus tossed it aside, ready for the next advance.

Adrian spared the canvas a brief glance. “Now you’ve really pissed me off.”

“Enough!” Something told me they weren’t going to listen to reason. This required direct intervention. I stalked across the room and pushed myself between them.

“Sydney, get out of the way,” ordered Adrian.

“Yeah,” agreed Marcus. “For once he’s got something worthwhile to say.”

“No!” I held out my hands to separate them. “Both of you back off—now!” My voice rang through the apartment, and I refused to budge. “Back. Off,” I repeated.

“Sydney. . . .” Adrian’s voice was a little more uncertain than when he’d told me to get out of the way.

I looked back and forth between them, giving each guy a healthy glare. “Adrian, it really was an accident. Marcus, this is the guy who’s going to help you, so show some respect.”

This, more than anything, seemed to derail them.

“Wait,” said Adrian. “Did you say ‘help’?”

Marcus was equally flabbergasted. “This a*shole is the spirit user?”

“You’re both acting like idiots,” I scolded. The next time I had nothing to do, I’d have to get a book on testosterone-driven behavior. This was out of my league. “Adrian, can we talk somewhere in private? Like the bedroom?”

Adrian agreed, but not before giving Marcus one last menacing look. I told Marcus to stay where he was and hoped he wouldn’t take off or call in someone else with a gun. Adrian followed me to his bedroom and shut the door behind us.

“You know,” he said, “under normal circumstances, you inviting me to the bedroom would be the highlight of my day.”

I crossed my arms and sat on the bed. I did so out of simple fatigue, but a moment later, I was struck by what I was doing. This is where Adrian sleeps. I’m touching the covers he’s wrapped in every night. What does he wear? Does he wear anything?

I jumped up.

“It really was an accident,” I told him. “Marcus thought I was there to abduct him.”

Adrian, having no such hang-ups with the bed, sat down. He winced, probably from the blow to the stomach. “If someone like you showed up to abduct me, I’d let you.”

Even when he was in pain, it never stopped with him. “I’m serious. It was just instinct, and he apologized over and over in the car once he realized who I was.”

That got his attention. “He knew you?”

I gave him a recap of my day in Santa Barbara. He listened avidly, nodding along, his expression shifting back and forth between intrigue and surprise.

“I didn’t realize when I brought him back here that you’d inflict more damage,” I said, once I’d finished the story.

“I was defending your honor.” Adrian gave me that devil-may-care smile that always managed to both infuriate and captivate me. “Pretty manly, huh?”

“Very,” I said dryly. I didn’t like violence, but him doing something so out of character for me actually was kind of incredible. Not that I’d ever tell him that. “You did Wolfe proud. Do you think you can manage not to have any more ‘manly’ displays while he’s here? Please?”

Adrian shook his head, still smiling. “I’ve said over and over, I’d do anything for you. I just keep hoping it’ll be something like, ‘Adrian, let’s go hot tubbing’ or Adrian, take me out for fondue.’”

“Well, sometimes we have to—did you say fondue?” Sometimes it was impossible to follow Adrian’s train of thought. “Why in the world would I ever say that?”

He shrugged. “I like fondue.”

I didn’t even know what to say about that. This whole day was getting more and more exhausting. “I’m sorry I’m not asking for something as glamorous as melted cheese. But for now, I need to find out about Marcus and his group—and the tattoo.”

Adrian recognized the situation’s severity. He stood up and gently touched the lily on my cheek. “I don’t trust him. He could be using you. But then . . . I don’t like the idea of this controlling you either.”

“That makes two of us,” I admitted, losing some of my earlier toughness.

He traced the line of my cheek for a few breathless moments and then dropped his hand. “It might be worth helping him to get some answers.”

“Will you promise not to get in any more fights? Please?”

“I promise,” he said. “So long as he doesn’t start one.”

“I’ll have him promise too.” I just hoped their “manly” natures wouldn’t get the better of them. As I ruminated on this, something I’d nearly forgotten about tumbled to the forefront of my mind. “Oh . . . Adrian, I’ve got one more favor to ask you. A big one.”

“Fondue?” he asked hopefully.

“No. It’s about Ms. Terwilliger’s sister. . . .”

I told him what I’d learned. The amusement in his face faded and turned to disbelief. “You just mention this now?” he exclaimed when I finished. “That some soul-sucking witch might be after you?”

“She doesn’t know I exist.” I felt surprisingly defensive. “And I’m the only one who can help, at least according to Ms. Terwilliger. She thinks I’m some super-investigator.”

“Well, you do have that Sherlock Holmes thing going for you,” he said. His joking didn’t last; he was too upset. “But you still should’ve told me! You could’ve called.”

“I was kind of busy with Marcus.”

“Then your priorities are off. This is a lot more important than his band of Merry Men. If we need to take out some evil sorceress before she gets to you, then of course I’ll help.” He hesitated. “With one condition.”

I eyed him warily. “What’s that?”

“Let me heal you too.”

I jerked backward, almost more shocked than if he’d suggested hitting me again. “No! Absolutely not! I don’t need it. I’m in better shape than him.”

“You want to go back to Amberwood with that on your face? You’re not going to be able to hide that, Sage. And if Castile sees it, he really will come after Marcus.” Adrian crossed his arms defiantly. “That’s my price.”

He was bluffing, and I knew it. Maybe it was egotistical, but I knew he wasn’t going to let me go into a dangerous situation without him. He did, however, have a point. I still hadn’t seen the mark Marcus had left, but I didn’t want to explain it back at school. And yes, there was a good chance Eddie would want to hunt down my assailant. Being beat up by an avenging dhampir might make working with Marcus difficult.

Yet . . . how could I agree? At least the magic I used was on my terms. And although my tattoo had trace amounts of vampire magic, I took comfort in knowing it was tied to the “normal” four elements, the ones we understood. Spirit was still an unknown entity, with abilities that continually surprised us. How could I subject myself to rogue vampire magic?

Guessing my inner turmoil, Adrian’s face softened. “I do this all the time. It’s an easy spell. No surprises.”

“Maybe,” I said reluctantly. “But each time you use spirit, you’re more likely to go crazy.”

“Already crazy about you, Sage.”

At least this was familiar territory. “You said you wouldn’t bring that up.”

He simply regarded me without comment. Finally, I threw my arms up. “Fine,” I said, with more boldness than I felt. “Just get it over with.”

Adrian didn’t waste any time. Stepping forward, he reached out and rested his hand on my cheek once more. My breath caught and my heart rate went up. It would be so, so easy for him to pull me to him and kiss me again. A tingling warmth spread over my skin, and for a moment, I thought it was just my normal reaction to him. No, I realized. It was the magic. His eyes locked onto mine, and for the space of a heartbeat, we were suspended in time. Then he removed his hand and stepped away.

“Done,” he said. “Was that so bad?”

No, it hadn’t been bad at all. The throbbing pain was gone. All that was left was the constant inner voice nagging me that what had just happened was wrong. That same voice tried to tell me that Adrian had left a taint behind . . . but that was hard to believe from him. I released the breath I’d been holding.

“Thank you,” I said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He gave me one of those small smiles. “Oh, believe me, I did.”

A moment of awkward silence hung between us. I cleared my throat. “Well. We should get back out to Marcus. Maybe we’ll have time for dinner before Sabrina shows up, and you guys can patch things over.”

“I doubt even a moonlight stroll would fix things between us.”

His words reminded me of something else I’d meant to bring up when he got back to town, something that had taken a very low priority. “Your coat—you never took it back after the wedding. It’s in my car.”

He waved dismissively “Keep it. I’ve got others.”

“What am I going to do with a wool coat?” I asked. “Especially here in Palm Springs?”

“Sleep with it,” he suggested. “Think of me.”

I put my hands on my hips and tried to stare him down, which wasn’t easy since he was so tall. That, and because his words suddenly returned me to the disorienting feeling I’d had sitting on his bed. “You said you weren’t going to bring up any romantic stuff around me.”

“Was that romantic?” he asked. “I was just making the suggestion, since the coat’s so heavy and warm. I figured you’d think of me since it was such a nice gesture. And yet, once again, you’re the one who finds romantic subtext in everything I say.”

“I do not. You know that’s not what I meant.”

He shook his head in mock sympathy. “I tell you, Sage. Sometimes I think I’m the one who needs to take out the restraining order on you.”

“Adrian!”

But he was already out the door, knowing laughter echoing behind him.

\I THINK ADRIAN WOULD’VE gone hunting Ms. Terwilliger’s sister with me then and there. Amberwood’s curfew wouldn’t allow it, and besides, it was something I wanted to do in daylight. To his credit, he did heal Marcus without them getting into a fistfight, so that was progress. Marcus lost a little of his animosity and tried to engage Adrian in conversation about what spirit could do. Adrian gave wary responses and looked relieved when Sabrina showed up to take Marcus away. He gave me a mysterious farewell, simply saying he’d text me soon about the “next stage.”
I was too tired to ask for more details and headed back to my dorm to sleep off what had been a pretty crazy day. I was awakened at the crack of dawn by heavy pounding at my door. I squinted at the clock, grimacing when I saw that it was an hour earlier than I usually got up. I stayed in bed, hoping whoever it was would go away. If there was something really urgent happening, someone would’ve called me on my cell phone. The display showed no missed calls, however.

Unfortunately, the knocking didn’t stop. With a feeling of dread, I finally dragged myself up, half-afraid of what I’d find outside my door.

It was Angeline.

“Finally,” she said, inviting herself into my room. “I thought you’d never answer.”

“Sorry,” I said, shutting the door behind her. “I was busy sleeping.”

She walked right up to my bed and sat down like she owned it. I really didn’t know her schedule, but she always struck me as a late riser. Apparently not today. She was dressed in a school uniform, with her brilliant red hair pulled back in what was, for her, a rather tidy ponytail.

“I have a problem,” she said.

My feeling of dread grew. I turned on my coffeemaker, which I always had ready with fresh grounds and water. Something told me I was going to need a cup to get through this. “What’s going on?” I asked, settling into my desk chair. I made no attempt at even guessing. When it came to Angeline, her problems could range from throwing a desk in rage or accidentally spilling hydrochloric acid on another student. Both had happened recently.

“I’m failing math,” she said.

This was unwelcome but not unexpected news. Angeline’s mountain community, while still educating its children, didn’t quite match the standards of Amberwood’s elite curriculum. She struggled in a number of her classes but had managed to scrape by so far.

“I’m already in trouble in my Spanish class,” she added. “But that pi?ata I made got me some extra credit, so I’m hanging in there okay for now.”

I’d heard about the pi?ata. It had been for her class’s cultural day, and she’d been so thorough with her papier-maché that none of her classmates had been able to open it through normal means. Angeline had ended up beating it against a wall and had to be stopped by her teacher when she’d produced a lighter.

“But if I slip there and in math, I could get expelled.”

That dragged me away from the flammable pi?ata and back to the present. “Ugh,” I said, having no better way to articulate my thoughts. The problem with a school that had high standards was . . . well, it had high standards. Trouble in one class might be tolerated, but not two. And if Angeline got kicked out, we’d be down one level of security for Jill—not to mention the fact that I’d probably get blamed for it all.

“Ms. Hayward told me I need to get a tutor. She says I either need to get better or at least show I’m trying.”

That was promising, I supposed. Even if a tutor couldn’t help, hopefully the school would be lenient with her good faith effort.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll get you a tutor.”

She frowned. “Why can’t you do it? You’re smart. You’re good at math.”

Why couldn’t I? Well, first I had to stop an evil sorceress from sucking the youth and power from innocent girls. Then I had to crack the secrets and lies that the organization I’d been born into was telling me.

Instead I said, “I’m busy.”

“You have to do it. It’d be easy for you,” she protested.

“Really busy,” I said. “I’m surprised Eddie can’t do it.”

His name brought a smile to her face. “He offered, but his grades are just average. I need someone really good.”

“Then I’ll get you someone really good. I just can’t do it myself right now.”

Angeline didn’t like that answer, but at least she didn’t flip over my desk. “Okay. Fine. Just hurry up.”

“Yes, your majesty,” I muttered, watching her strut out of my room in a huff.

At least Angeline’s academic problems were something a little easier to deal with than the other supernatural intrigues occupying my time. Since I was already awake and had coffee, I decided there was no point in going back to sleep. I showered and dressed, then caught up on some extra homework while I waited for breakfast. When the serving time started in our cafeteria, I headed downstairs and lingered near the entrance. It only took about five minutes before my friend Kristin Sawyer came by. She always went running before class started and was usually one of the first in line for breakfast afterward. She was also in AP calculus with me.

“Hey,” I said, falling in step with her. “Good run?”

“Great run,” she said. There was still a little sweat on her dark skin. “A lot nicer now that the weather’s cooler.” She eyed me curiously. “I don’t usually see you here this early. I don’t usually see you eat breakfast.”

“It’s the most important meal of the day, right?” I selected oatmeal and an apple. “Besides, I have a favor to ask you.”

Kristin nearly dropped the plate of scrambled eggs one of the servers handed to her. Her brown eyes widened. “You have a favor to ask me?”

While I wasn’t responsible for my human friends in the same way I was the Moroi and dhampirs, I still had a tendency to look after them. I’d helped Kristin a number of times.

“Yeah . . . my cousin Angeline needs a math tutor.”

There was an expectant look on Kristin’s face, like she was waiting for me to finish my story. Then understanding hit. “Who, me? No. No way.”

“Oh, come on. It’d be easy.” I followed her to a table, having to hurry to catch up. I think she thought that if she walked quickly enough, she might be able to escape my request. “She’s in remedial math. You could tutor her in your sleep.”

Kristin sat down and gave me a long, level look. “Sydney, I saw your cousin punch a grown man and throw a speaker at someone. Do you really think I’m going to sign on for a job that makes her do work she doesn’t want to do? What if she gets frustrated at what I’m telling her? How do I know she won’t stab me with a compass?”

“You don’t,” I admitted. “But I think it’s unlikely. Probably. She really wants to improve her grade. Otherwise, she could get kicked out.”

“Sorry.” Kristin actually did look legitimately apologetic. “You know I’d do almost anything for you—but not this. You’re going to have to find someone who’s not afraid of her.”

I thought about her words over and over as I headed off to history class. She was right. But the only people completely at ease around her were Eddie and Jill, and they were off the list as tutors. I wondered if maybe I should offer up money to someone when I went to calculus later.

“Miss Melbourne.”

Ms. Terwilliger was back in her classroom, no doubt to the relief of yesterday’s sub. She waved me up to her messy desk and handed me a single sheet of paper. “Here’s the list we discussed.”

I scanned it. It contained the names of six girls as well as their addresses. These must be the ones she’d mentioned, girls with known magical aptitude but no coven or teacher to look out for them. All the addresses were in the Los Angeles metropolitan area.

“I trust Mrs. Santos got you the other information you needed for your project?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Santos had emailed me the historical neighborhoods she knew about, and I’d narrowed them down to a couple likely candidates. “I’ll start working on the, uh, project this weekend.”

Ms. Terwilliger arched an eyebrow. “Why are you putting it off? I’ve never known you to procrastinate on an assignment.”

I was a little startled. “Well . . . normally I don’t, ma’am. But this is going to take some extra time—travel time—and I don’t have enough of it on school days.”

“Ah,” she said, realization hitting her. “Well, then, you may use your independent study for it. That’ll give you extra time. And I’ll tell Mrs. Weathers you may be coming in after curfew. I’ll make sure that she’s accommodating. This project is of the utmost importance.”

There was no protest I could make. “I’ll start today, then.”

As I was walking back to my desk, a voice said, “Jeez, Melbourne. Just when I thought that independent study you had with her couldn’t get any easier . . . now you don’t even have to show up for class?”

I paused to give Trey a smile. He was Ms. Terwilliger’s assistant during this class period, meaning he did a lot of filing and photocopying.

“It’s a very important assignment,” I said.

“I guess. What is it?”

“It’d bore you.” I did a double take as I looked him over. I didn’t even have to grope for a change in conversation. “What happened to you?”

His eyes were bloodshot, and the unkempt state of his black hair suggested he hadn’t had a shower this morning. There was a sallow, almost sickly hue to his normally tan skin. He gave me a weak smile and lowered his voice. “Craig Lo’s brother scored us some beer last night. It was from some microbrewery I guess that’s good.”

I groaned. “Trey, I thought you were better than that.”

Trey managed as much of an indignant look as he could in his hungover state. “Hey, some of us like to have a little fun now and then. You should give it a shot sometime. I already tried to help you with Brayden, but you messed that up.”

“I didn’t mess anything up!” Brayden was a barista who worked with Trey, one who rivaled me when it came to a love of academia and random knowledge. Our brief relationship had been full of facts and low on passion. “He broke up with me.”

“You wouldn’t guess it. Did you know he writes all this lovesick poetry about you on his breaks?”

I was taken aback. “He . . . he does?” The reason Brayden had broken up with me was because my various duties to my vampire family had constantly interfered with the two of us, forcing me to neglect him and cancel a lot. “I feel kind of bad he took it that hard. I’m surprised he’d have such a, I don’t know, outburst of passion.”

Trey snorted. “I don’t know that it’s that passionate. He’s more concerned about form and sits around with books detailing iambic pentameter and sonnet analysis.”

“Okay, that sounds more like him.” The bell was about to ring, so I had started to return to my seat when I noticed something on Trey’s desk. “You’re not done with that?”

It was a big homework assignment we had for our chemistry class, involving a number of complicated acid and base problems. It was due in our next period, and it seemed unlikely Trey would finish in time since all he had on the paper so far was his name.

“Yeah . . . I was going to finish it last night, but . . .”

“Right. The beer. Having fun.” I didn’t even bother to hide my disapproval. “That’s a huge part of our grade.”

“I know, I know.” He looked down at the papers with a sigh. “I’ll finish as much as I can before then. Partial credit’s better than no credit.”

I studied him for a moment and then made a decision that went against many of my basic principles. I reached into my messenger bag and handed him my completed homework.

“Here,” I said.

He took the pages with a frown. “Here what?”

“It’s the assignment. Use my answers.”

“I. . . .” His jaw dropped. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think you do. You’re giving me your homework.”

“Yes.”

“And telling me to pass it off as my homework.”

“Yes.”

“But I didn’t actually do the work.”

“Do you want them or not?” I asked in frustration. I started to take the papers back, but he pulled them close.

“Oh, I want them,” he said. “I just want to know what you want in return. Because this doesn’t really make up for getting me ostracized from my family and friends.” He kept his tone light, but I heard the edge of bitterness. There it was. No matter how friendly he and I were, our respective allegiances to the Warriors and the Alchemists would always be between us. Maybe it was a joke now . . . but someday it wouldn’t be.

“I need a favor,” I explained. “A small one, really. Has nothing to do with any of that . . . stuff.”

Trey looked understandably wary. “Which is?”

The bell rang, so I spoke quickly. “Angeline needs a math tutor or else she’ll fail. And if she fails, she’ll get kicked out of school. It wouldn’t be hard for you at all. And it’d look good on your college applications.”

“Your cousin’s a little unstable,” he said. But he didn’t say no, so I thought that was a good sign.

“You used to think she was hot,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, that was before. . . .” He didn’t finish, but I knew. Before he found out she was a dhampir. The Warriors had the same taboos the Alchemists did about relationships between the races.

“Okay,” I said. “I understand. I’ll just take my homework and go.” I held out my hand, but he didn’t give the papers back.

“Wait, I’ll do it. But if she injures me, I hope you’ll feel really bad. Basketball season just started, and the team will fall apart if I’m sidelined because of her.”

I grinned. “I’ll be devastated.”

Angeline was not so thrilled when I told her at lunch. She flushed with rage and looked like she was about ready to throw her tray across the cafeteria.

“You expect me to work with that . . . that . . . vampire hunter?” she demanded. I wondered if she’d had another name in mind but had held back in some remarkable show of restraint. “Especially after what they tried to do to Sonya?”

“Trey’s not like the rest of them,” I said defensively. “He refused to kill her and even went through the trouble of getting me in to help her—which ended up severely messing up his life, I might add.”

Eddie looked amused, despite the grim subject. “You should also add that he wants very, very badly to get back to that old life.”

I pointed at Eddie with my fork. “Don’t tell me you think Trey’s a bad choice too.”

“For tutoring?” He shook his head. “Nah, he’s fine. I’m just saying you shouldn’t be so quick to assume everything’s happy and bright with him. It seems pretty likely his group’s working against us.”

“He’s my friend,” I said, hoping my firm tone would put an end to the discussion. After a few more assurances, Eddie convinced Angeline to work with Trey, reminding her she needed to keep her grades up. Still, Eddie’s words haunted me. I believed absolutely that Trey was my friend but again wondered when that rift between us would rear its ugly head.

When Eddie and Angeline left to go to their afternoon classes, I asked Jill to hang back at the table for a minute. “What’s Adrian doing right now?”

“He’s in his painting class,” she said promptly.

“The bond must be running strong today, huh?” I asked. Sometimes her view of his mind and experiences was clearer than others.

She shrugged. “No, but it’s eleven on Tuesday.”

“Right,” I said, feeling foolish. I knew everyone’s schedules; it was necessary for my job. “I should’ve realized that. Do you think he’d be able to meet up with me after school?”

“To go on that witch hunt? Yeah, he’d probably leave right now.”

Jill knew what Adrian knew, so she’d also been briefed about my search for Veronica. While I’d learned to accept Jill’s knowledge as part of confiding in Adrian, it was still a little shocking for me to hear these forbidden topics discussed openly. Seeing my stunned reaction, Jill smiled a little.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I keep Adrian’s secrets. And yours.” The bitterness in her voice also caught me off guard.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked, puzzled. “You’re not . . . you’re not still upset about what happened between Adrian and me, are you? I thought you’d eased up on that.” Although Adrian’s proclamation of loving me against the odds had been unsettling, his more relaxed attitude had come through in her until now.

“Adrian has,” she said. “He doesn’t see the danger of you running around with another guy.”

I was lost. “Another guy? You don’t mean . . . Marcus? That’s crazy.”

“Is it?” asked Jill. The bond was so strange at times. Jill was jealous on Adrian’s behalf. “He’s human, you’re human. You’ve both got this rebel Alchemist thing going on. And I saw him. He’s pretty cute. There’s no telling what could happen.”

“Well, I know what could happen: nothing,” I said. Even through a psychic bond, Marcus could win over girls. “I just met him. I don’t even know if I can entirely trust him, and I certainly don’t have any feelings for him. Look, I get that you want to help Adrian, but you can’t be mad at me about what happened. You know why I turned him down—especially after Micah.” Micah was Eddie’s human roommate, and even though she knew human-vampire relationships couldn’t get serious, she’d still been surprised at just how complex and difficult the situation had been.

“Yeah. . . .” She frowned, no doubt conflicted over Adrian’s feelings and what she knew was true. “But maybe with Adrian, I don’t know. Maybe things could be different. Or maybe there’s at least a way to make them less painful for him.”

I looked away, unable to meet her eyes. I didn’t like to think of Adrian in pain, but what else could I do? What did either of them expect me to do? We all knew the rules.

“I’m sorry,” I said, picking up my tray and standing. “I never asked for any of this. Adrian will get over me.”

“Do you really want him to get over you?” she asked.

“What? Why would you even ask something like that?”

She didn’t answer and instead made a great show of stirring around her mashed potatoes. When I realized she wasn’t going to elaborate, I shook my head and walked off toward the exit. All the while, I could feel her watching me as that question echoed in my mind: Do you really want him to get over you?

\AS JILL HAD SAID, Adrian was more than happy to begin our hunt that afternoon. In fact, when I finally got ahold of him, he offered to pick me up when classes ended, in order to maximize our time. I didn’t mind this since it meant I’d get to ride in the Mustang. Admittedly, I would’ve preferred to drive it myself, but I’d take what I could get.
“When are you going to name the car?” I asked him once we were on the road to Los Angeles.

“It’s an inanimate object,” he said. “Names are for people and pets.”

I patted the Mustang’s dashboard. “Don’t listen to him.” To Adrian, I said, “They name boats all the time.”

“I don’t really understand that either, but maybe I would if my old man ever fronted me the money for a private yacht.” He shot me a quick, amused look before returning his attention to the road. “How can someone as cold and logical as you be so obsessed with something as frivolous as this?”

I wasn’t sure which part bothered me the most—being called cold or obsessed. “I’m just giving the proper respect to a beautiful machine.”

“You named your car after coffee. That’s a sign of respect?”

“The highest1respect,” I said.

He made a noise that sounded like a cross between a scoff and a laugh. “Okay, then. You name it. Whatever you want, I’ll go along with.”

“Really?” I asked, a bit startled. True, I’d been badgering him about naming the car, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be the one to wield that sort of power. “It’s a big decision.”

“Life or death,” he said, deadpan. “Better choose carefully.”

“Yeah, but you’re the so-called creative one!”

“Then this’ll be good practice for you.”

I fell silent for a good part of the drive, struck by the gravity of the dilemma that lay before me. What should the name reflect? The car’s sunny yellow color? Sleek lines? Powerful engine? The task was overwhelming.

Adrian pulled me out of my thoughts when we began nearing the outer Los Angeles suburbs. “We’re not actually going into the city, are we?”

“Huh?” I’d been waging a mental debate between Summer Wind and Gold Dust. “Oh, no. We’re heading north. Take the next exit.”

Mrs. Santos had provided me with two neighborhoods known for their Victorian-style houses. I’d researched them extensively online, even going so far as to look at satellite pictures. I’d finally chosen one that most resembled my vision and crossed my fingers I’d have the same luck as I’d had in finding Marcus’s apartment. Surely the universe owed me a few favors.

Unfortunately, things didn’t look too promising when we finally reached the street I’d been given. It was a peaceful residential area, filled with those same distinctive houses, but nothing that quite matched the one I’d seen in my vision. We drove up and down the street as I scanned each side, hoping maybe I’d missed something.

“Ugh,” I said, slouching back into my seat. No luck. The universe had apparently cut me off. “We’ll have to check the other location, but seriously, it didn’t look like a match.”

“Well, it can’t hurt to—” Adrian suddenly made an abrupt turn onto a side street we’d nearly driven past. I jerked upright as he clipped the curb.

“What are you doing? Think about your tires!”

“Look.” He made another turn, putting us on a parallel street. Most of it was contemporary California housing . . . but one block had more Victorian houses. I gasped.

“There it is!”

Adrian came to a stop on the side of the street opposite from the house of my vision. Everything was there, from the wrapping porch to the hydrangea bush. And now, in the full light of day, I could make out the sign in the front yard: OLD WORLD BED-AND-BREAKFAST. Smaller print identified it as a historic site.

“Well, there we go.” Adrian was clearly very pleased with his find, despite the risk to the car’s tires. “Maybe Jackie’s sister is staying here.”

“Odd choice to run nefarious magical activities out of,” I remarked.

“I don’t know. Seeing as there aren’t any ancient castles in the neighborhood, then why not a bed-and-breakfast?”

I took a deep breath. “Okay, then. Let’s go make some inquiries. You sure you can muddle the minds of those who see me?”

“Easy,” he said. “Easier still if you were wearing your wig.”

“Oh, shoot. I forgot.” I ducked down and retrieved a shoulder-length brown wig that Ms. Terwilliger had supplied me with. Even with Adrian’s magic, we wanted to take extra precautions. While it would be good if people were visited by an unmemorable blonde, it’d be better still if they were visited by an unmemorable brunette. I tugged the wig on, hoping no one had seen my transformation. I lifted my head. “Does it look okay?”

Adrian’s face showed approval. “It’s cute. You look even brainier, which I didn’t think was possible.”

We left the car, and I wondered if I wanted to look brainier. A lot of people already thought I was boring. Blond hair might be the only exciting thing I had going for me. Then I thought for a minute about my recent experience scaling a fire escape, breaking and entering, and getting into a fistfight with a fugitive. Not to mention that I was now hunting a powerful evil witch alongside a vampire who could control people’s minds.

Okay, maybe I wasn’t so boring after all.

We stepped inside to find a cute little lobby with an ornate desk and a sitting area with wicker furniture. Stuffed rabbits dressed in ball gowns adorned the shelves, and the walls actually had oil paintings of Queen Victoria. The owners apparently took their theme very literally, though I wasn’t sure how the rabbits fit in.

A girl my age sat at the desk and glanced up in surprise from a magazine. She had short platinum hair and hipster glasses. Tons of necklaces hung around her neck in a gaudy display that went against my minimalist sensibilities. Hot pink plastic beads, a sparkly green star, a gold and diamond locket, a dog tag . . . it was mind-boggling. Even worse, she was chewing gum loudly.

“Hi,” she said. “Can I help you?”

We’d had a whole routine planned, but Adrian immediately went off script. He slung his arm around me. “Yeah, we’re looking for a weekend getaway, and a friend of ours swears this is top-of-the-line romance.” He pulled me closer. “Our anniversary’s coming up. We’ve been dating for one year, but man, it hardly seems like it.”

“That’s for sure,” I said, trying to keep my jaw from dropping. I forced what I hoped was a happy smile.

The girl glanced back and forth between us, her expression softening. “That’s so sweet. Congratulations.”

“Can we check the place out?” Adrian asked. “I mean, if there are any vacant rooms?”

“Sure,” she said, standing up. She spit her gum into a trash can and walked over to us. “I’m Alicia. My aunt and uncle are the owners.”

“Taylor,” I said, shaking her hand.

“Jet,” said Adrian. I nearly groaned. For inexplicable reasons, “Jet Steele” was a pseudonym Adrian really liked using. In our rehearsal today, he was supposed to be called Brian.

Alicia glanced back and forth between us, a small frown on her face that soon smoothed out. I had to guess it was Adrian’s compulsion, confusing her perceptions of us a bit. “Follow me. We have a few vacant rooms you can see.” With one last puzzled look at us, she turned and headed toward a stairway.

“Isn’t this great, sweetie?” Adrian asked loudly as we walked up the creaking stairs. “I know how much you like rabbits. Didn’t you have one when you were little? What was his name, Hopper?”

“Yeah,” I said, resisting the urge to punch him on the arm. Hopper? Really? “Best rabbit ever.”

“Oh, neat,” said Alicia. “Then I’ll take you to the Bunny Suite first.”

The Bunny Suite had more of those well-dressed stuffed rabbits as part of the decor. The quilt covering the king-size bed also had a border of alternating hearts and rabbits stitched in. Several books sat on the mantel above the wood-burning fireplace, including The Tale of Peter Rabbit and Rabbit, Run. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized just how absurdly far a theme could be taken.

“Wow,” said Adrian. He sat down on the bed and tested its bounciness, giving it a nod of approval. “This is amazing. What do you think, buttercup?”

“I have no words,” I said honestly.

He patted the spot beside him. “Want to try it out?”

I answered with a look and felt relieved when he stood up. Adrian and beds stirred up too many conflicting feelings in me.

After that, Alicia showed us the Morning Glory Suite, the Velvet Suite, and the London Suite, all of which competed to outdo the others in tackiness. Nonetheless, despite the absurdity of Adrian’s ruse, the tour had given me the opportunity to take note of the other labeled doors in the hallway. We followed Alicia back downstairs.

“We don’t get to see the Sapphire Suite or the Prince Albert Suite?” I asked.

Alicia shook her head. “Sorry. Those are occupied. I can give you a brochure with some pictures, if you want.”

Adrian had his arm around me again. “Angel cake, wasn’t the Prince Albert Suite where Veronica stayed? She’s not still here, is she?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. This, at least, was similar to what we’d rehearsed. I glanced over at Alicia. “You probably can’t tell us that, huh? If our friend Veronica’s here? She’s really pretty, has long dark hair.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Alicia, brightening. “Of course I remember her. She was in the Velvet Suite, actually, and just checked out yesterday.”

I resisted the urge to kick the desk. So close. We’d missed her by a day. Yes, the universe was definitely done giving me breaks. I wouldn’t be able to cast the scrying spell until the next full moon, which was a month away.

“Oh, well,” said Adrian, still with that easy smile. “We’ll see her for Christmas anyway. Thanks for your help.”

“Do you want to book a room?” Alicia asked hopefully.

“We’ll get back to you on that,” I said. I actually wouldn’t have put it past Adrian to book one and then claim it was part of our cover. “We’re checking out a few places. A one-year anniversary isn’t something you want to make a hasty decision on.”

“But,” said Adrian, giving her a wink, “I’ve got a good feeling about the Bunny Suite.”

Alicia walked us out, her eyes widening when she saw the Mustang. “Wow, nice car.”

“It’s an amazing car,” I said.

“That’s our baby—well, until we have real ones. Don’t you think it needs a name?” asked Adrian. “I keep trying to convince Taylor.” Once again, I had to fight the urge to punch him.

“Oh, definitely,” said Alicia. “That kind of car . . . it’s like royalty.”

“See?” Adrian shot me a triumphant look. “And Alicia’s an expert on royalty. Didn’t you see all those paintings?”

“Thanks for your help,” I told her, steering him forward. “We’ll be in touch.”

We got in the car, and after waving goodbye to Alicia, Adrian drove away. I stared blankly ahead. “Much like with the Bunny Suite, I have no words to describe what just happened. I mean, really? Our anniversary? Jet?”

“I look more like a Jet than a Brian,” he argued. “Besides, that was a much better story than the one about how we wanted to pay a surprise birthday visit to our ‘friend’ Veronica.”

“I don’t know about that. But it did give us the information we needed. Which isn’t good.”

Adrian grew serious. “Are you sure? Maybe Veronica left the area altogether. Maybe you and the other girls are out of danger.”

“That would be good, I guess . . . except, it just means some other poor girl somewhere else would suffer instead, and we wouldn’t have any way to stop it.” From my purse, I pulled out Ms. Terwilliger’s list of magic-using girls. “One of these addresses is in Pasadena. We can at least swing through on our way back and warn her.”

The girl we sought was named Wendy Stone. She was a student at Cal Tech, which seemed like an odd vocation for a wannabe witch. Of course, Ms. Terwilliger had said these were girls who weren’t actively studying the magical path. They simply possessed magical ability, and I supposed the fact that they had no mentors suggested that they might actually be resistant to their inborn abilities—kind of like me.

Wendy lived in an apartment near campus that was easy to find. It was a no-nonsense, primarily student residence, but it seemed like a luxury palace after Marcus’s building. As we passed busy students carrying backpacks and talking about classes, I felt a pang of longing that I hadn’t experienced in a while. Inheriting the Alchemist mantle meant I couldn’t go to college. College was a dream I’d held on to for a long time, though enrolling at Amberwood had helped ease some of my longing. Now, in this buzz of academia, a surge of jealousy sprang up in me. What would it be like to have this kind of life? To have your days solely devoted to the pursuit of knowledge, with no intrigue or life-threatening situations? Even Adrian, with his part-time art classes, was able to have some sort of collegiate experience.

“Don’t be so down,” he said when we reached Wendy’s floor. “You might get to college someday.”

I looked over at him in wonder. “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

“Because I know you,” he said simply, no mockery in his eyes. “Your aura got sad, and I figured being on a college campus had something to do with it.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze and turned away. “I don’t like that.”

“What, that someone actually knows what’s important in your life?”

Yes, that was exactly it. But why did it bother me? Because it was Adrian, I realized. Why was it that a vampire understood me so well? Why not one of my friends? Why not one of my human friends?

“You can be Jet if you want,” I said brusquely, trying to get us back on track and cover up my troubled feelings. After all, this wasn’t Sydney’s Therapy Hour. “But we are not posing as a couple again.”

“Are you sure?” he said. His tone was lighter now, turning him back into the Adrian I knew. “Because I’ve got a lot more terms of endearment to use. Honey pie. Sugarplum. Bread pudding.”

“Why are they all high-calorie foods?” I asked. I didn’t want to encourage him, but the question slipped out before I could stop it. “And bread pudding isn’t really that romantic.”

We had reached Wendy’s door. “Do you want me to call you celery stick instead?” he asked. “It just doesn’t inspire the same warm and fuzzy feelings.”

“I want you to call me Sydney.” I knocked on the door. “Er, Taylor.”

A girl with freckles and frizzy red hair answered. Her eyes narrowed warily. “Yes?”

“We’re looking for Wendy Stone,” I said.

She scowled. “Are you from the registrar’s office? Because I told them the check’s on its way.”

“No.” I lowered my voice and made sure there were no witnesses. “My name’s Taylor. We’re here to talk to you about, um, magic.”

The transformation was sudden and startling. She went from suspicious and cautious to shocked and outraged. “No. No. I’ve told you guys a hundred times I don’t want to be involved! I can’t believe you’d actually show up at my door to try to convert me to your little coven freak show.”

She tried to shut the door, but Adrian managed to stick his foot in and block it. Very manly. “Wait,” he said. “That’s not what this is about. Your life might be in danger.”

Wendy turned incredulous. “So you guys are threatening me now?”

“No, nothing like that. Please,” I pleaded. “Just let us talk to you for five minutes inside. Then we’ll leave and never bother you again.”

Wendy hesitated and then finally gave a nod of resignation. “Fine. But I’m getting my pepper spray.”

Her apartment was neat and tidy, save for a pile of papers and engineering books scattered on the floor. We’d apparently interrupted her homework, which brought back my wistfulness. She made good on her promise to get the pepper spray and then stood before us with crossed arms.

“Talk,” she ordered.

I showed her the picture of Veronica. “Have you ever seen this woman?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” Or was it? Did that mean Veronica might have Wendy tagged as a future hit and was waiting to pounce? “She’s dangerous. I’m not exactly sure how to put it. . . .”

“She finds girls with magic and sucks away their souls,” supplied Adrian helpfully.

Wendy did a double take. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“That’s not exactly the case,” I said. “But it’s close enough. She seeks out girls with power and takes it for herself.”

“But I don’t use magic,” Wendy countered. “Like I told you, I don’t want anything to do with it. There’s a witch who lives in Anaheim who’s always telling me how much potential I have and how I should be her apprentice. I keep telling her no, and I’ve never even tried any spells. This soul-sucking lady has no reason to come after me.”

Ms. Terwilliger had warned me some of the girls might say this. In fact, she’d said most would have this argument.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “That won’t stop her.”

Wendy looked terrified now, and I didn’t blame her. My reaction had been similar. It was frustrating to know the very thing you were trying to get away from might come after you.

“Then what should I do?” she asked.

“Well, avoid her if you can. If she comes to see you . . . I mean, don’t let her in. Don’t be alone with her.” That was slightly lame advice, and we all knew it. “If you do see her, I’d tell that witch in Anaheim. In fact . . . I know you don’t want to, but if I were you, I’d get in touch with that witch now and try to get her help. Maybe even learn a few defensive spells. I understand you don’t want to—believe me, I really do—but it could save your life. Also . . . ” I held out the agate charm. “You should take this and wear it at all times.”

Wendy eyed the charm as though it were a poisonous snake. “Is this some trick to get me to learn magic after all? You come here with this whole act about how if I don’t learn, I could get my soul sucked away?”

Again, I had to give her points. I would think exactly the same thing. “We’re telling the truth,” I insisted. “There’s no proof I can offer—well, wait. Give me your email address, and I’ll send you this article about another girl it happened to.”

Wendy looked like she was on the verge of using the pepper spray. “I think I would’ve heard if some girl had her soul magically sucked away.”

“It wasn’t really obvious to those who don’t know about the magical world. Let me send it to you, and then you can make your own decisions. It’s the best I can offer.”

She reluctantly agreed and wrote down her email address. Adrian stepped forward to take it from her, but he must have moved too quickly because she suddenly thrust the can of pepper spray in his direction.

“Stay back!” she exclaimed. At the exact same moment, I sprang in front of him, terrified he was about to get a face full of pepper spray. I cast the first spell I could think of, a simple one that created a flashy—but harmless—show of colored light. A shielding spell would’ve been much more useful, but I hadn’t practiced any yet. That would have to be rectified, in case our future errands involved more pepper spray.

“You back off,” I warned.

As I’d hoped, the brilliant display was terrifying to someone anti-magic like Wendy. She retreated to the far side of her apartment and thankfully didn’t use the spray.

“G-get out,” she stammered, eyes full of fear.

“Please take precautions,” I said. I set the charm on the floor. “And please wear this. I’ll email you the article.”

“Get out,” she repeated, making no move toward the charm.

As Adrian and I walked out of her building and into the sun, I sighed loudly. I was dismayed enough that I didn’t even have the chance to feel down about being at a college.

“That didn’t go so well,” I said.

He thought about it, then grinned. “I don’t know, Sage. You threw yourself in the line of pepper spray for me. You must like me just a little bit.”

“I—I figured it’d be a shame to ruin your pretty face,” I stammered. In truth, I hadn’t been thinking of anything that specific. All I’d known was that Adrian was in danger. Protecting him had been instinctual.

“Still, that spell was kind of badass.”

I managed a small smile. “It was harmless, and that’s the thing. Wendy didn’t know any better. The reason Veronica goes after these girls is that they don’t have any magical protection—and that’s exactly why they probably can’t stop her. I don’t think pepper spray will help, but maybe the article will convince her. Oh, shoot. I’ll have to make a fake email address for Taylor.”

“No worries,” said Adrian. “I already have a Jet Steele one you can use.”

This actually made me laugh. “Of course you do. For all the online dating you do, right?”

Adrian didn’t comment one way or the other, which bothered me more than it should have. I’d meant it as a joke . . . but was there truth to it? If rumors—and some of my own observations—were true, Adrian had experience with a lot of women. A lot. Thinking of him with others upset me, far more than it should have. How many other girls had he kissed with that same intensity? How many had been in his bed? How many had felt his hands upon their bodies? He couldn’t have loved them all. Some—probably most—had been conquests, girls whose faces he forgot the next morning. For all I knew, I was just the ultimate conquest for him, a test for his skills. You probably couldn’t find a greater challenge than a human with hang-ups about vampires.

And yet, thinking back on all the things said and unsaid between us, I was pretty sure that wasn’t true. No matter how crazy this romantic entanglement was, he loved me—or thought he did. I was no superficial conquest. It’d probably be better if I was, though. Without an emotional connection, he’d eventually give up and easily find comfort in someone else’s arms. This would probably be a good time for me to suggest he do that anyway.

But I stayed silent.

\THE NEXT MORNING, I sought out Ms. Terwilliger before class to give her a recap of yesterday’s adventures. She leaned against her desk, sipping a cappuccino as I spoke. Her expression grew darker as the story progressed, and she sighed when I finished.
“Well, that’s unfortunate,” she said. “I’m glad you were able to find the Stone girl, but that kills our lead on Veronica until the next full moon. It could be too late by then.”

“You’re sure there’s no other scrying spell?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Most that I could attempt would alert her that I was looking for her. There is one that might mask me while I’m using it . . . but it also might not be able to penetrate any shielding she’s using to hide herself.”

“It’s still worth a try, isn’t it?” I asked. The warning bell rang, and students began trickling into the classroom. She shot me a smile as she straightened up.

“Why, Miss Melbourne, I never thought I’d hear you suggesting such things. But you’re right. We’ll talk about it this afternoon. It’s something I’d like you to see.”

That anti-magic gut instinct started to rear its ugly head . . . and then stopped. Somewhere, against my wishes, I’d gotten caught up in all of this. I was too concerned now about Veronica’s other victims to pay attention to my usual worries. In Alchemist eyes, using magic was bad. In my eyes, leaving innocents in danger was worse.

With no other critical situations to contend with, I found that the day flew by. When I rejoined Ms. Terwilliger for our independent study, I found her packed up and waiting for me to arrive. “Field trip,” she told me. “We need to work on this at my place.” A wistful look crossed her features. “Too bad we can’t stop at Spencer’s.”

Caffeine and magic didn’t mix, which was another good reason for staying away from the arcane. I started to point out that since I wasn’t working any magic, I didn’t have the same restrictions. A moment later, I decided that would be mean. Ms. Terwilliger had enough going on with a bloodthirsty sister on the loose. She didn’t need to be taunted too.

The cats were waiting at the door when we arrived at her house, which was slightly terrifying. I’d never seen all of them at once and counted thirteen. I had to assume that number was by design.

“I have to feed them first,” she told me as they swarmed at her feet. “Then we’ll get to work.”

I nodded wordlessly, thinking her plan was a good one. If those cats weren’t fed soon, it seemed likely they would turn on us. I didn’t like our odds.

Once they had food to distract them, Ms. Terwilliger and I went to her workshop. There was little I could do except observe. Magic often required that the person doing the spell be the one to put in all the labor. I assisted with a little measuring, but that was about it. I’d seen her do a couple of quick, flashy spells in the past but never anything of this magnitude. It was clear to me that this was a very, very powerful feat. She had nothing to link her to Veronica, no hair or picture. The spell required the caster to use the image in her mind of the person being sought. Other components, herbs and oils, helped enhance the magic, but for the most part, the work was all on Ms. Terwilliger. Watching her prepare triggered a mix of emotions in me. Anxiety was one, of course, but it was paired with a secret fascination at seeing someone with her strength cast a spell.

When everything was in place, she spoke the incantation, and I nearly gasped as I felt power surge up in the room. I’d never sensed it from another person before, and the intensity nearly knocked me over. Ms. Terwilliger was staring at a spot a few feet in front of her. After several long moments, a glowing dot appeared in the air. It grew bigger and bigger, turning into a flat, shimmering disc, which hung there like a mirror. I stepped backward, half-afraid the disc would keep expanding and consume the room. Eventually, it stabilized. Tense silence surrounded us as she stared at that glowing surface. A minute passed, and then the oval began to shrink and shrink until it was gone. Ms. Terwilliger sank with exhaustion and caught the side of her table for support. She was sweating heavily, and I handed her some orange juice we’d had ready.

“Did you see anything?” I asked. There’d been nothing visible to me, but maybe only the caster could see what the spell revealed.

She shook her head. “No. The spell was unable to touch her mind. Her shielding must be too strong.”

“Then we can’t do anything until next month.” I felt my stomach drop. I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I’d been hoping this spell would work. So much of my life involved problem solving, and I felt lost when I ran out of options.

“You and Adrian can keep warning the other girls,” said Ms. Terwilliger. Color was starting to return to her face. “At the very least, it might slow Veronica down.”

I looked at the time on my cell phone. This spell had taken longer than I thought. “I don’t think we can do a round trip to Los Angeles today. I’ll get him tomorrow, and we’ll see if we can finish off the list.”

Once I was convinced she wouldn’t pass out from magical exertion, I made motions to leave. She stopped me as I was about to walk out the door.

“Sydney?”

I glanced back, suddenly uneasy. The problem with having so many people call me by nicknames was that when someone called me by my actual name, it usually meant something serious was happening.

“Yes?”

“We keep talking about warning others, but don’t forget to look after yourself as well. Keep studying the book. Learn to protect yourself. And keep the charm on.”

I touched the garnet, hidden under my shirt. “Yes, ma’am. I will.”

Marcus’s promised text came as I was driving back to school, telling me to meet him at a nearby arcade. I knew the place and had actually been to its adjacent mini-golf course once before, so I had no difficulty heading over there. Marcus was waiting for me just inside the door, and thankfully, Sabrina wasn’t around wielding a gun.

I hadn’t spent a lot of time in arcades and didn’t really understand them. They hardly meshed with my father’s style of education. For me, it was a mass of sensory overload that I wasn’t quite ready for. The smell of slightly burnt pizza filled the air. Excited children and teenagers darted back and forth between games. And everywhere, everything seemed to be flashing and beeping. I winced, thinking maybe my dad had been on to something in avoiding these places.

“This is where we’re going to discuss covert activities?” I asked in disbelief.

He gave me one of his movie star smiles. “It’s not an easy place for people to spy on you. Besides, I haven’t played Skee-Ball in years. That game is awesome.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“What?” It was kind of nice to catch him by surprise again, even if it was for something so trivial. “You’ve been missing out. Spot me some money for tokens, and I’ll show you.” Apparently, being an on-the-run renegade leader didn’t pay well.

He found the Skee-Ball machines instantly. I bought him a cupful of tokens and handed them over. “Have at it.”

He promptly put a token in and threw his first ball. It landed completely outside of the rings, making him scowl. “You don’t waste any time,” I remarked.

His eyes were on the game as he made his second throw, which again missed. “It’s a survival tactic. When you spend enough time on the run . . . hiding out all the time . . . well, you take advantage of these moments of freedom. And when pretty girls spirit you away.”

“How do you know we’re free? How can you be so sure the Alchemists haven’t been watching me?” I asked. I was pretty sure I wasn’t being watched and mostly wanted to test him.

“Because they would’ve showed up on that first day.”

He had a point. I put my hands on my hips and tried to be patient. “How long are you going to play? When can we talk?”

“We can talk now.” His next ball hit the ten-point ring, and he whooped with joy. “I can talk and throw. Ask away. I’ll give you as many shocking secrets as I can.”

“I’m not easily shocked.” But I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. I glanced around, but he was right. No one was going to eavesdrop in this noisy place. We could barely hear each other as it was. “What’d you do to get kicked out of the Alchemists?”

“I didn’t get kicked out. I left.” This round ended, and he put in his next token. “Because of a Moroi girl.”

I froze, unable to believe what I’d heard. Marcus Finch had started his great rebellion . . . because he’d been involved with a Moroi? It rang too close to my own situation. When I didn’t say anything, he glanced over and took in my expression.

“Oh. Oh. No, nothing like that,” he said, realizing my thoughts. “That’s not a line even I would cross.”

“Of course not,” I said, hoping I was doing a good job at hiding my nervousness. “Who would?”

He returned to the game. “We were friends. I was assigned to Athens, and she lived there with her sister.”

That derailed me. “Athens . . . you were in Athens? That was one of the places I wanted to be assigned. I went to St. Petersburg instead, but I always kept hoping that, maybe, maybe, I’d get reassigned to Greece. Or even Italy.” I was nearly babbling, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“What’s wrong with St. Petersburg? Aside from the high Strigoi count.”

“What’s wrong is that it wasn’t Athens or Rome. My dad specifically requested that I not be assigned to either place. He thought it’d be too distracting.”

Marcus paused again to give me a long, level look. There was sympathy in his expression, as though my entire history and family drama were playing before his eyes. I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me and wished I hadn’t said anything. I cleared my throat.

“So tell me about this girl in Athens.”

He took the hint. “Like I said, she was a friend. So funny. Oh, man. She cracked me up. We used to hang out all the time—but you know how that’s kind of frowned upon.”

I almost laughed at his subtle joke. Kind of? That was an understatement. Field Alchemists weren’t supposed to interact with Moroi unless it was absolutely necessary for some business matter or related to stopping and covering up Strigoi. My situation was a little unique, since my mission actually required me to talk to her on a daily basis.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Someone noticed, and I got a lot of unwelcome attention for it. Around the same time, I started hearing all these rumors . . . like about Alchemists holding Moroi against their will. And even some Alchemists interacting with the Warriors.”

“What? That’s impossible. We would never work with those freaks.” The idea of Moroi prisoners was outlandish, but it was that second part that truly stumped me. I couldn’t even process it. He might as well have said the Alchemists were working with aliens.

“That’s what I thought.” He threw another ball, looking supremely pleased when it scored thirty points. “But I kept hearing whispers, so I started asking questions. A lot of questions. And, well, that’s when things really went bad. Questions don’t always go over so well—especially if you’re a nuisance about them.”

I thought about my own experience. “That’s certainly true.”

“So that’s when I walked. Or, well, ran. I could see the signs. I’d crossed a line and knew it was only a matter of time before I had a one-way ticket to re-education.” Another new round started, and he gestured me forward. “Want to give it a try?”

I was still stunned enough by his earlier words that I stepped forward and took a ball. The Alchemists were logical, organized, and reasonable. I knew there were Alchemists who wished we could do more to fight the Strigoi, but there was no way our group would work with trigger-happy zealots. “Stanton told me we only tolerate the Warriors. That we’re just keeping an eye on them.”

“That’s what I was told too.” He watched me line up a shot. “There’s kind of a learning curve to this, by the way. It may take you a few—”

I threw and hit the fifty-point ring. Marcus could only stare for a few seconds, his earlier smirk vanishing.

“You said you’d never played!” he exclaimed.

“I haven’t.” I threw another fifty pointer.

“Then how are you doing that?”

“I don’t know.” Fifty points again. “You just base your force on the ball’s weight and distance to the ring. It’s not that hard. This is kind of a boring game, really.”

Marcus was still dumbstruck. “Are you some kind of super-athlete?”

I nearly scoffed. “You don’t need to be an athlete to play this.”

“But . . . no . . .” He looked at the rings, then at me, and then back to the rings. “That’s impossible. I’ve been playing this since I was a kid! My dad and I used to go to our town’s carnival over and over in the summer, and I’d spend at least an hour playing this each time.”

“Maybe you should have made it two hours.” I tossed another ball. “Now tell me more about the Warriors and the Alchemists. Did you ever get any proof?”

It took him several moments to tune back into the conversation. “No. I tried. I even got cozy with the Warriors for a while—that’s how I met Clarence. My group has found a few dark secrets about the Alchemists and saved other Moroi from the Warriors, but we were never able to make a connection between the two groups.” He paused dramatically. “Until now.”

I picked up the next ball. This mundane activity was helping me analyze his startling words. “What happened?”

“It was a fluke, really. We’ve got a guy working with us now who just left the Alchemists and broke his tattoo,” he explained. He said it like it was no big deal, but I still couldn’t shake how uneasy “breaking the tattoo” made me feel. “He’d overheard something that matched up to something Sabrina uncovered. Now we’ve just got to get the evidence linking it all.”

“How are you going to pull that off?”

“Actually, you’re going to pull it off.”