Quicksilver

THIRTY-NINE

Gilmore Leybrook was in his library, going over the latest financial reports for the Institute, when he sensed the ominous currents of energy. They rolled through the room like the waves of a dark, cold sea. Alarmed, he surged to his feet. He was suddenly sweating profusely. His heart beat too fast. Instinctively he looked around, searching for the source of the deadly danger that had invaded the room.

At first he saw nothing, but before he could assure himself that his imagination had overreacted, Owen Sweetwater came through the doorway, the wings of his long black coat flaring around him.

Gilmore stared at him, unable to breathe. He had never been so frightened in his life.

“I need an address, Leybrook,” Sweetwater said. “You will provide it to me.”

Anger surged through Gilmore, momentarily offsetting the raw terror that was roiling his guts. “Now, see here, I don’t know who you think you are, but you have no right—”

He broke off, choking on another wave of panic.

“You will give me the address,” Sweetwater said.

Gilmore crumpled back down on his chair. “Yes.” He sucked in a breath. “Who are you looking for?”

Sweetwater told him. Gilmore gave him the address.

Sweetwater turned and went toward the door of the library. He paused briefly to look back at Gilmore.

“There will be no more threats to Miss Dean’s career,” Sweetwater said. “If I hear so much as a whisper of gossip I will assume it came from you, and I will come for you.”

He did not wait for a response, which was just as well because Gilmore doubted that he was capable of speech.

He sat at the desk for a long time, collecting his nerve. After a while he got up, crossed the room to the brandy decanter and poured a large measure of the strong spirits into a glass. He downed the brandy in three swallows. Then he poured another glass.

After a while his nerves recovered somewhat.

One thing was clear, he would have to pursue his vendetta against Arcane without the assistance of Virginia Dean. Well, it was not as if she was the only powerful talent in London, he thought. He would find another who could help him destroy the Society.