“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Please forgive the outburst. It’s a touchy subject. Of course that loser Guardian angel would have told you we were incubus. It’s his clan’s fault we got demoted, after all. I can’t believe I have such an unworthy opponent. Ah well, all in good time,” he drawled.
I bit my lip and tried to look noncommittal as he talked about Gavin. The mention of my powerful love—who was just outside, powerless to come in—underscored the reality that I was out of my league.
As I took my place at the end of the table, I was dismayed to notice Graham collecting his plate and walking toward me.
“These long banquets are quite a bother,” he said, placing everything next to me. “I can’t sit so far away from you. I need to be near you, where I can see you and smell you and taste you.” He lifted my hand and pretended to bite it, but I snatched it away.
As I sat down, I got a strange sensation, a tingling sixth sense like déjà vu. I saw the scene before me as if I’d lived it before, only it wasn’t me sitting at the table, it was another girl my age. An ancestral memory?
She was wearing an old-fashioned dress with a ruffled corset and a wide black ribbon tied in a bow on the side of her hair. I hoped that instead of just seeing her, I could use her memories and knowledge to escape.
As if in answer, she pointed to the case holding the flaming sword. The sword of an Archangel. The one thing a human could use to kill a demon! If only I could unlock it . . .
I cleared my throat. “It’s very impressive,” I said to Graham.
He stopped his fork on the way to his mouth. “Thank you,” he answered before realizing I hadn’t told him what impressed me. His cheeks turned crimson, and I guessed he’d been lost in his own fantasy. I didn’t want to know what it was about, but I could guess.
I nodded at the wall. “The sword. It’s huge. You must be proud.”
My compliments must have played nicely into his daydream, because he smiled broadly. “It is big, I assure you.” He winked. I tried not to blanch.
“Do you know the code?” I picked up my fork to emphasize that I was only making innocent, superficial dinner conversation.
“Of course I do. You think they don’t trust me enough to give me the code? I’m not as young as I look,” he sniffed.
I looked at the ghostly girl next to me, tried to search her brain. What should I do?
A hint, she whispered silently to me. Ask for a hint.
I stabbed at something meaty with my fork and gave Graham what I hoped was a beguiling look. “I bet I could guess your code.”
“Guess the code? It can’t be guessed, dear. The numbers repeat, so there are over a million combinations.”
“I could try to guess part of it,” I suggested. “Come on, humor me. I love puzzles. Give me a hint. Please?” I twirled a lock of my hair between my fingers.
“Four,” he sighed.
“That’s not a hint,” I scolded. “That’s just a number.”
His hand found my knee. “You like to be teased, don’t you?” he said. I felt like a mouse being played with by a snake before it was eaten. It was not a good feeling. “All right,” he conceded. “I’ll tell you it’s the most powerful number in all the world.”
I thought about the possibilities. Six numbers were too long for a coded Bible verse. In terms of money, six digits was less than a million. It couldn’t be 666, since that was already entered. It had to be mathematical. What is a famous long number in math that has a four in it?
“Is it pi?” I asked.
He smiled. “Very clever, but also very easy. Yes, it’s from pi.”
I felt a surge of hope. I got it! Now I just have to get rid of him long enough to use it . . .
He removed an ink pen from his breast pocket and started drawing on his white napkin. “Three point one four. Pi. The number every eleven-year-old knows,” he mocked.
I fought the urge to punch him.
“I bet you didn’t know this, though,” he continued. He flipped the napkin over and held it up to the fireplace so the numbers showed through the cloth: PI.E. They spelled pie!
“Wow,” I enthused before I could stop myself. “I never saw that before.”
“Yes, well, I have many tricks up my sleeve. One of the perks of being around for three hundred years. You meet a lot of interesting people.” I felt his foot caressing my leg. I pushed back from the table. I had to get him out of the room.
“Speaking of pie, do you have any dessert?” I asked. “I’m sort of a sweets girl. It’s a lovely dinner, but I’d rather just jump right to dessert, wouldn’t you?” I winked, hoping I didn’t look like an idiot.
His eyes danced. “I think I can whip something up.” He stood and walked toward the door. Halfway across the room, he stopped and turned back to me. “Oh, I forgot to mention. The code for the Claymore case is pi, but it’s not the first six digits. That would be far too simple. It’s the last six digits.” My face must have fallen, because he laughed as he left the room.
I was devastated, as I knew that pi is an irrational number. It never ends. No one knows the six last digits. Well, apparently demons know, I thought dejectedly.
I had another flash, and I saw the spirit girl again. Only this time, she wasn’t talking. She wasn’t breathing. A knife protruded out of her chest, from her heart. She was dead. My entire body went ice cold.
Dear God, don’t let this vision be a foreshadowing of where I die, I prayed.
I had to get out. And I only had a few seconds. Think, Maren, think!
The last six digits of pi. No one knew them. A lot of people knew the first six digits though: 3.14159. At least, everyone in Mr. Mick’s fifth grade class did, since for no good reason he’d made us memorize them with a little song.
The last six digits. The last. Why couldn’t they be the first?
Then it hit me: the last shall be first. The Campbell crest. I stood up and ran to the frame. Maybe he was tricking me with wordplay, and it was the first digits after all. I quickly spun the dials to read 314159. Nothing.
The last shall be first. What makes something at the end suddenly be at the beginning? I remembered Graham’s napkin in the firelight. Backward! When it’s backward! My fingers slipped as I desperately rolled the wheels.
9 . . . 5 . . . 1 . . .
“I’ve found dessert, darling!” Graham called from outside the room.
4 . . . 1 . . .
His footsteps got closer and closer.
I fumbled with the last dial.
3.
Clink! The locks released and the glass panel started to slide silently upward from the bottom of the frame. I did it! Thank you, Mr. Mick, I whispered.
I shook while I waited for the opening to be large enough for me to stick my hand inside. Come on, come on, hurry up, I willed it.
“Maren,” Graham called out from the doorway. I turned and strode quickly toward him. If I got his attention away from the sword, he might not notice the case was open. Then, when he wasn’t looking, I could grab it.