The Fiery Heart

CHAPTER 4 SYDNEY

THE TEARS DIDN’T START UNTIL I WAS WELL AWAY from Adrian and back in my car. I drove to Amberwood with blurred vision and wet cheeks, feeling more useless than I had in a long time. Forgetting about Hopper wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but what about next time? Spirit made its users do crazy things. They hurt themselves. They killed themselves. That was what scared me, and I wanted to control the situation before it controlled us. And that, as Adrian had astutely pointed out, was what really ate at me: my helplessness to come up with an immediate solution. It wasn’t a feeling I had very often.

I couldn’t stop spirit from ravaging Adrian, and I couldn’t condemn him for that gut instinct to help others. It made my heart ache, thinking of that burning kindness within him that so few ever saw. The only thing I could do was be there for him and encourage him to draw upon the strength I knew he possessed. Maybe he couldn’t defeat spirit permanently, but I knew he could put up better resistance against falling back on his old habits to cope. There had to be healthier ways to survive, and I believed without a doubt that he had the self-control and willpower to enact them. I just wished he believed that as well.

I parked in Amberwood’s garage after diligently seeking a spot between two other properly parked cars. Honestly, how hard was it for people to park between the lines? My Mazda was still shiny and new, and I feared dents and dings. My last car, a brown Subaru named Latte, had been spectacularly blown up by foam, courtesy of an evil witch who’d been after Ms. Terwilliger. After Neil and Zoe had increased our numbers, the Alchemists had ordered that Latte’s replacement be a seven seater. This CX-9, dubbed Quicksilver for its paint, was the sexiest SUV crossover I could find. Adrian told me I was one step away from being a suburban mom in a minivan.

I’d calmed down by the time I reached my dorm room but couldn’t help a few sniffles in my pillow. Zoe, who I’d thought was asleep, spoke through the darkness.

“Are you upset about Mom and Dad?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “They won’t take me away from him.”

I pretended to fall asleep.

I felt back in control when I woke the next morning, particularly because I had a task at hand. Ms. Terwilliger, good to her word as usual, had made midday arrangements for me to visit Inez, the witch that the other Stelle had regarded with a mix of both amusement and nervousness. As far as Zoe was concerned, I was going off on a research trip to a university library in San Diego.

“Why are you always off doing stuff with her?” Zoe asked. She stood in front of our mirror, brushing her long brown hair into a ponytail.

“She’s my teacher, and it’s part of my independent study with her.” I was sifting through my drawers for something to wear, and my hand lingered on a purple T-shirt that had a silvery Celtic-style heart with flames trailing from it. Adrian had made it for me, sort of as a joke, but it had become one of my most prized possessions. “Besides, I’ve pretty much already taken every other subject with Dad. This is my only interesting class.”

“I suppose.” She sounded unconvinced and then abruptly brightened. “You’ll tell them that, right? In court? About how thorough Dad’s education was? That’ll go a long way.”

“I’m sure it will.” I smiled stiffly as I shut the T-shirt drawer and moved to my closet for something more formal. I didn’t know much about Inez, but if she was some venerable elder, maybe I should show extra respect. I opted for a black pencil skirt and long-sleeved white shirt covered in black dots. A small wooden cross with morning glories painted on it, courtesy of Adrian, was my only accessory.

Zoe frowned. “You’re wearing that to a library?”

“It’s a prestigious one,” I said evasively. “I should be back in time to go with you guys to Clarence’s, but if not, Eddie will take you. Ms. Terwilliger’s driving me, so you can have Quicksilver.”

“Thank God,” she said with a shudder. “You can’t imagine what it was like in Adrian’s car. I had to sit right next to Jill.”

After rooming with Zoe for a month, I’d grown surprisingly immune to her commentary and found it was easier on everyone if I just didn’t react, even when her comments were extreme by Alchemist standards. “And don’t forget to stop and pick up dinner this time.”

“It’s not our job to remind them,” she protested.

“Our job is to make sure Jill gets to Clarence’s and that life runs smoothly for everyone. Those ‘family dinners’ are a nice way for everyone to destress and get along. It’s not a big deal to grab something to go. You should do Chinese,” I added decisively. “They haven’t had it in a while.” Also, Adrian had mentioned a craving for kung pao chicken the other day.

“Do you ever wish we had a cooler car?” Zoe asked unexpectedly.

I started laughing. “Yes, but the mission trumps our car choices right now. I didn’t know you thought about that kind of stuff.”

She sat down on her bed, and a mischievous smile played at her lips. “Hey, I grew up in the same place as you. Do you remember when Mom worked on that Jaguar at our house? That was a cool car.”

“Of course I do.” A surge of affection welled up in me as I regarded her. “But you were . . . what? Eight? Nine?”

“Old enough to wish I could drive it. I used to sneak into the garage at night and sit in it. I thought I was being stealthy, but I think Mom knew the whole time.” That fledgling smile bloomed on her face, and I caught my breath. My dad didn’t have complete control over her. Was there a chance she hadn’t tossed our mom aside? Was there a chance the custody hearing might work out amicably?

And was there a chance that Zoe might ever come around to thinking of Moroi and dhampirs as real people? Until this moment, seeing these glimmers of the sister I remembered and loved, it had never occurred to me that it might be possible to sway her thinking—on a lot of issues. Since her arrival, I’d been tiptoeing around her, nodding and reciting party lines. Was there a way that I might actually be able to influence her? It was more than I dared hope, and I knew better than to tip my hand too soon, lest it ruin this unguarded moment. I simply filed it away for later and put on my poker face.

Ms. Terwilliger picked me up in her red Volkswagen Beetle soon thereafter, wearing sunglasses with leopard-print frames. After five minutes on the road, she pulled off at a coffee shop. “Are you still doing your ridiculous abstaining?” she asked.

“Yes, but I haven’t had my cup today.” I’d held off for this very reason, knowing she’d make a stop. Holding out this long was making my hands twitch.

She shifted the car into park and nodded toward the shop’s door. “Good thing.”

I follow her gaze and gaped as Adrian straightened up from where he was leaning against the outside of the building, a cup in each hand. He grinned at us and sauntered toward the car. “That’s Adrian,” I said stupidly.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Ms. Terwilliger said. “He called this morning and asked if he could join us. Inez is no stranger to Moroi, so I didn’t see it being a problem. In fact, it might throw her off a little, which would be to our advantage. Thank you, dear.” That was to Adrian, as she accepted her coffee through the driver’s side window.

He slid into the backseat and handed me my cup. A flutter of emotions stirred inside my chest. Last night’s encounter had left me unsettled, but seeing him now in the light of day, clear-eyed with that devil-may-care smile, I dared to hope that he really would make good on all that he’d said. How could he not? He radiated confidence, full of the charm and good looks that had drawn me in before I’d even known it was happening. There was no drunkenness or despair. He looked like he could do anything, and just then, I needed to believe he could. There were so many things weighing me down, so many things—including our future together—that seemed impossible. Having this invincible Adrian by my side filled me with a joy I rarely allowed myself. Our fingertips brushed as I took the cup, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I held his gaze for several long moments, and as his cocky smile softened into something more serious, I knew he could hear all the things I couldn’t give voice to.

“Weren’t you supposed to be painting your monolith?” I asked once we were back on the road.

“Rowena rescheduled. It gave me time to go get you a present,” he told me.

“I know. I’m drinking it right—ah!”

A glittering, scaly form scurried up my leg and curled into a ball on my lap. Carefully holding the coffee in one hand, I used the other to give Hopper a pat on the head as I ran a few mental calculations.

“You must have been up at the crack of dawn to get him and be back,” I said. “How much sleep did you get?” My shiny vision of Adrian began to falter a little. Lack of sleep was his enemy.

“More than enough for this escapade. Isn’t there a giant Muffler Man statue in Escondido? Do we have time for a photo op?”

“We’ve barely got enough time for this,” I said, thinking back on Zoe’s disappointment. But Adrian’s chatter and enthusiasm cast a cheer on the drive, and I could tell that even Ms. Terwilliger liked having him along, though worry lines appeared on her face the closer we got to our destination.

“Like I said before, I don’t know how helpful Inez will be,” she explained. “She’s very eccentric and controlled by her whims. If she likes you, she might tell you something. If she doesn’t, well . . .” Ms. Terwilliger shrugged. “Then maybe we’ll have time for photo ops.”

“Score,” said Adrian. When I shot him a look, he added quickly, “But of course she’ll like you.”

When we reached the outskirts of the city, Ms. Terwilliger made a stop not for coffee, but for a bouquet of burgundy roses that she thrust into my lap when she returned to the car, much to Hopper’s dismay. “Hang on to these,” she told me. I did without question and used the opportunity to transform Hopper back into his statue form. He’d had more than enough out time these past few days.

A recluse witch made me think of Clarence, so I was surprised when we pulled up at a very modern Spanish-style house that was pretty much the opposite of an old Gothic manor. It was made weirder still by an El Camino with a flat tire sitting out on the driveway. I’d expected something outlandish and eccentric from what the other witches had said, so this nod to normality was almost a disappointment.

Then we stepped inside the door.

It was like being in a shrine . . . to roses and doilies. Every surface in the place was covered. In that way it wasn’t unlike Ms. Terwilliger’s house; despite having her former home and possessions recently destroyed, she had somehow managed to fill up a new house with junk in less than a month. But whereas her items were tossed haphazardly around because she didn’t feel like putting them away, all the clutter here seemed to be by design. There were vases of silk roses carefully centered on crocheted doilies, figurines of puppies carrying roses in their mouths on lace doilies, and delicate rose-covered tea sets placed on paper doilies. And that was just the start of it. It all had a really old feel to it as well, like I’d been transported back to the 1890s.

Adrian stood behind us, just outside the door, and I was pretty sure I heard him mutter, “Needs more rabbits.”

“Well, hello, Inez,” Ms. Terwilliger said to our hostess. With a start, I realized I couldn’t ever recall my teacher acting so nervous around anyone. “You look as lovely as ever.”

Inez Garcia was a tiny waif of a woman, like some fairy from the hollow hills. Her white hair was pulled into a long braid down her back, and she wore her glasses around her neck on a long blue-beaded chain. Her jeans had an impossibly high waist and were paired with, unsurprisingly, a rose-printed shirt. The lines of her ninety years showed on her face, but there was a sharpness in her dark eyes that explained Ms. Terwilliger’s unease.

“Don’t you start up with me, Jaclyn Terwilliger! I know why you’re here. You want something. It’s the only reason anyone comes by these days. There’s no pleasantries, no tea. Just want, want, want.”

Ms. Terwilliger gulped and pushed me forward. “Inez, this is Sydney Melrose. Look what she’s brought for you.”

It took me a moment to remember the roses, and I held them out with a forced smile. Inez took them warily and sniffed each of them before giving a small grunt of approval. “Come in.” We entered further into the foyer, and that’s when she noticed Adrian. “Well, well, look what you dragged up. You could’ve saved yourself the money on the flowers and just brought me him. Been a while since I entertained a handsome young Moroi.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve met a woman who appreciates roses as much as I do,” said Adrian, ever quick on his feet. “Not that my experience has always been great with them. I’ve got to say, though, I’ve never seen such excellent decorating taste. You go for pink too, huh? I told them that when they got the flowers, but would they listen to me? No. They insisted on burgundy.”

Inez narrowed her eyes as she gave Ms. Terwilliger a once-over. “What are you playing at, bringing one of them here? Their kind almost never come to us for help.”

“This isn’t about him,” explained Ms. Terwilliger. “It’s Sydney. My apprentice.”

Inez pondered this as she put the roses in a vase (which had roses painted on it) and allowed us to sit in her mauve parlor. The scent of roses was cloying, and I counted at least three plug-in air fresheners responsible for the oppressive atmosphere. Inez settled back into a velvet padded armchair that I almost thought was rose-free until I saw more of them carved into the wood.

“So.” Inez scrutinized me as I gingerly sat down beside Ms. Terwilliger on the sofa. Adrian made himself comfortable on a thronelike chair. “An apprentice, huh? And here I thought you just spent your free time advocating chia seeds in natural-foods forums.” The old woman’s eyes suddenly widened, and I realized she’d caught sight of my left cheek. She chuckled softly to herself. “This gets stranger by the minute. You’re braver than I thought, taking on one of them.”

“She’s very strong,” said Ms. Terwilliger almost defensively.

Inez tsked and picked up a teacup. It smelled like Earl Grey, and I hoped she’d offer us some. “Do you think I don’t know that? I could tell as soon as I opened the door. How’d you manage that? Aren’t you worried about consorting with the devil, girl? Or whatever it is you Alchemists believe?” She glanced over at Adrian. “But then, you must’ve overcome a few of your hang-ups about the supernatural if you rode in the same car as Jaclyn’s pool boy.”

I’d known Inez was familiar with the vampiric world. It was why we were here, after all, to learn about her history of fighting Strigoi. I also knew from being with the coven that vampires were just business as usual to some witches. Nonetheless, it was a completely new and baffling experience to be with an outsider who was so at ease with Moroi.

“These hands don’t do manual labor,” Adrian told her.

“Be quiet, boy,” she snapped. “Before you become less endearing.”

I cleared my throat. “I don’t do any consorting with the devil, ma’am.” Just an insolent yet irritatingly attractive vampire. “Mostly I’ve been translating spells and learning to defend myself.”

“Her training has made her an excellent scholar,” insisted Ms. Terwilliger.

“Scholar, pah.” Inez made a dismissive wave of her hand. “Just looks like some flighty teenage girl to me, one who probably thinks she’s being a rebel by tinkering with magic. Doesn’t matter how strong she is if she can’t focus and get serious about the craft. Do you have a boyfriend, girl? Yes, of course you do. That just makes things worse. There’s no getting through to them when all they’ve got is the backseat of a car on their mind. We didn’t have those problems in my day. They’d send us off to our mentors and lock us away. No boys. No temptation. Lose your virginity, girl, and you lose half your magic. Something you might have thought about, Jaclyn.” She finally paused to catch her breath and drink more tea. I made a point of studying her teacup because I knew if I looked at Adrian, I was going to start laughing. “No, there’s no use bothering with kids these days, not with all their texting and reality TV and power drinks. She’s a snappy dresser, I’ll give you that, but that’s not enough to get me to waste my time with some young girl.”

“You don’t even know what I want,” I blurted out. “And I’m not that young. I’ll be nineteen in about two weeks.”

Inez rolled her eyes. “Aquarius? Worse and worse.”

Ms. Terwilliger had regained some of her confidence and met Inez’s shrewd gaze with a level look. “She’s extremely disciplined and extremely advanced. She takes this very seriously and has already joined the Stelle.”

That, at least, came as a surprise, and Inez glanced at me with new consideration—though still not approval. “I suppose that’s something.”

“It’s just the warm-up,” said Adrian.

I gave him a warning look, not wanting him to “help” my case. “Please, ma’am. I need your guidance. I heard you’ve had lots of encounters with Strigoi. That you’ve fought some. I want to know more about it.”

She didn’t look impressed in the least. “Hmphf. That’s all? I figured someone like you would know more than me.”

“Not the magical side,” I said. “How did you fight them?”

“The same way anyone does. Stakes, fire, or decapitation. Not that the Moroi give us many stakes. But I’ve lit up a few Strigoi in my day. Just takes a good fireball spell.”

That wasn’t a huge revelation. “Yeah . . . I know a lot about that spell.”

Inez gave Ms. Terwilliger a quizzical look. “Didn’t your house burn down recently? Good grief, you guys weren’t experimenting with fireballs indoors, were you?”

My teacher shifted uncomfortably. “No. You’ll have to get that story from Alicia DeGraw.” There was a slight catch in her voice. “Veronica’s apprentice.”

“The one who went rogue,” said Inez.

“Yes. Sydney defeated her and saved my life.”

Inez studied me in a way that said I might not be a complete waste of time, and I took advantage of it. “Please, ma’am. Please help me. You seem like someone who really appreciates knowledge and learning, and I’d be so grateful if you’d share just a little of your wisdom.”

“Why should I help?” she asked. I could tell she was intrigued, though. Flattery really could get you places. “You don’t have any superior knowledge to offer me.”

“Because I’m superior in other things. Help me, and I’ll . . . I’ll fix your car out front. I’ll change the tire.”

That threw her off. “You’re in a skirt.”

“I’m offering you what I can. Manual labor in exchange for wisdom.”

“I don’t believe you can do it,” she said after several long moments.

I crossed my arms. “It’s an eyesore.”

“You have fifteen minutes,” she snapped.

“I only need ten.”

Naturally, Adrian felt the need to “supervise” my work. “Are you going to get mad if I tell you how hot this is?” he asked, kneeling near me, though careful not to get his own clothes dirty.

I had no time for such niceties as I sized up the spare tire, which seemed to be in only slightly better shape than the flat. “I assume you mean the temperature.” I was starting to sweat, which wasn’t helping matters.

“You really think this car is important enough to her that she’d help? Something tells me that the last time she drove anything, it was a horse-drawn carriage.”

I opened up a toolbox that had been in the back of Ms. Terwilliger’s car, pleased that it was well stocked and compatible. “It’s not really about the car. This is a test to prove I’m not some ‘flighty girl.’ I think she gets a kick out of seeing others jump through hoops. That’ll hopefully buy me credit.”

He fell silent and watched me work for another minute or so. “Was that true what she said? About virginity affecting magic?”

“For some spells,” I said. “For others, not so much. Some of the witches in the Stelle are married, and Ms. Terwilliger’s still pretty formidable.”

He didn’t say anything, and I could guess his thoughts. He was wondering if that would influence my own views about sex. In truth, it was only one of the many factors I was juggling when it came to going to the next level with him. His being a vampire was one of my smaller concerns. But other things—vague ones, like simply reaching a milestone, and specific ones, like knowing Jill was watching—certainly weighed on me. Magic played into it as well, but to a lesser extent.

One of the biggest influences was just an overwhelming desire to be cautious. Even engaging in our relationship was a reckless thing, and some part of me needed to compensate by holding back on other aspects. That wasn’t to say I didn’t want to have sex. I did . . . enough that I was carrying a secret that not even Adrian knew about: I’d actually started taking birth control pills. Was it because I had a definitive sexual plan? No, not yet. But I had that definitive cautious nature of mine that felt it was best to be prepared. I wasn’t sure how he’d react if he knew.

He helped me up when I finished in nine minutes and made sure I knew that he thought my dirty, sweaty state was adorable. We went back inside and found Inez and Ms. Terwilliger sitting comfortably in the air-conditioned mauve living room. I hesitated to sit on the couch again and instead settled on the floor in front of Inez.

“Took you long enough,” she said. She looked me over and nodded. “Go ahead, then. Ask your questions.”

I knew better than to waste this chance. “I heard that you were attacked by Strigoi, ma’am—that they tried to drink from you but couldn’t. How? What happened?”

“Oh, there was no ‘try’ about it,” Inez said. She touched the side of her throat. “Right there that monster bit me—but you’re right. He didn’t get very much before the taste got to him. When he realized he couldn’t eat me, he got enraged and tried to snap my neck—but then I got a fireball out on him.” There was a gleam in her eye as she spoke, as though she were seeing the battle play out in front of her. “Odd things, vampire bites. In some ways, they’re exquisite. Exquisite, but lethal.”

“Yes, I know,” I told her, once more surprising her. “A Strigoi tried to drink from me too but couldn’t.”

Inez nodded. “It’s our magic. It leaves a residue on the blood when you use it. Hasn’t Jaclyn taught you that?”

“Er, yes . . .” I began. “But how would that matter to a Strigoi?”

“Magic is life. Strigoi have none, so when they’re struck with it—like with a Moroi charmed stake—it goes against their essence. A stake through the heart kills them. A witch’s blood is simply unpleasant.”

“But I hadn’t—” I stopped, realizing that even though I hadn’t been working great spells before that Strigoi attack, I’d begun the preparation of some at Ms. Terwilliger’s behest. They’d required low-level, unconscious magic—apparently enough to leave a mark that had saved my life. Accepting this, I moved on. “But if magic blood can harm them, how come they can drink from the Moroi? Seems like Moroi would be even more potent because their magic is already within them, not like us.”

Inez seemed pleased by my questions. “Exactly because the magic is intrinsic. It’s woven into the blood and doesn’t have the same shock to a Strigoi system. Our magic . . .” She groped for the words. “It coats our blood because we pull it from the outside world into us. A similar thing occurs with a charmed stake. Magic is forced into it, becoming a more tangible weapon against the undead.”

I could just barely follow along. “A lot of nuances here, dealing with internal and external magic.”

“To say the least.” Inez almost gave me a genuine smile. “And it gets more complicated when you compare Moroi and human magic. Sometimes they behave similarly, sometimes completely differently. And of course, there’s the whole other issue of them contradicting each other.”

“Contradicting each other?” Something in those words pricked my inner alarms.

Inez put her hands into fists and slammed them together. “External, internal. Two sides of the magical coin. Sometimes they clash. Your tattoo there. The Alchemists get vampire blood to infuse it with compulsion, right?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes. To stop us from discussing supernatural matters with outsiders.” And to stop us from doing other things.

“Well, not for you. I guarantee your tattoo stopped working when you first dabbled in magic.”

The world came to a halt as the full impact of her words hit me. “No . . . that’s not possible. I mean, I guess it is, but I swear, there wasn’t any difference in me. Not then.” Things had certainly progressed afterward.

Inez’s gaze pinned me to the floor. “Did you ever try to do anything? Try to talk about vampires to ordinary people?”

“No . . .”

“Then how do you know?”

“I don’t, but I figured the tattoo’s magic was still going strong until—”

“Until what?” she asked. Even Ms. Terwilliger was looking at me now.

Last month, I’d run into a former Alchemist named Marcus Finch who’d rebelled and run away from them. Like me, he believed the Alchemists were too harsh on vampires, but he even went as far as to say there were some Alchemist factions actually working with vampire hunters. Marcus claimed to have discovered a way to undo the magic in our tattoos, freeing us of the compulsion magic that enforced Alchemist loyalty and made us keep supernatural affairs secret. I’d undergone the first part of the two-step process to negate the tattoo: receiving injections of new ink that contained “broken” vampire elemental magic. That allegedly had freed me of the initial compulsion. The second step was to get the golden lily tattooed over with a sort of indigo ink Marcus had to acquire in Mexico. He said without that step, the Alchemists could just eventually reinstate the compulsion. I’d declined Marcus’s offer to go to Mexico, however, saying I’d take my chances without the indigo seal. I couldn’t bring myself to leave Adrian, Jill, and the others, seeing as there’d be no returning to my life in Palm Springs after open rebellion.

I chose my next words very carefully as I touched my cheek. “This tattoo is infused with elements made by vampire magic. If the two magics conflict, what would happen if elements derived from human magic were also put into this tattoo? Which magic would dominate?”

That clearly wasn’t the question either of them had expected. Inez frowned. “In you? The human magic, for sure. Like speaks to like, at least in this case. Your own humanness would strengthen what was there.”

“So . . . whatever charms or spells were worked into the ink with vampire magic would be undone by new ink powered with human magic.”

“Yes.”

The world was moving again, but I was barely aware of it. I was on the edge of something so, so big. I could tell. I just needed to grasp it. My fingertips could practically feel it.

“To hold Moroi magic in the body, you need a physical component,” I began. “In this case, ink made from their blood. To hold human magic in the body, you’d need a physical ink too . . . would that require human blood?”

“No,” said Inez swiftly. Her wrinkled brow frowned. “Blood is a good medium for a charm made of theirs because their magic is so tied to their bodies. Since we have to take our magic from the world around us, you’d be better off stabilizing it with some sort of physical compound. Something from nature.”

“Like what?”

She looked over at Ms. Terwilliger in what I suspected was a rare show of deference. “It’s hard to say. Something plant derived?”

Ms. Terwilliger pursed her lips as she mulled it over. “I’d say rock or mineral based.”

My heart raced. “A blue one?”

“I don’t think that the color matters so much in this case,” she said. “Certain substances hold certain kinds of magic better than others. Honestly? You’d have to get into the nitty-gritty of geology. Look at crystalline structure, and see what types would form the best charm with what you’re wanting to do. It’s dull and dreary work. You’d probably love it.”

“Where would I find this out?” I exclaimed.

“There are books and books on it,” said Inez, in a voice that suggested I should’ve already known that. She took a deep breath, and for the first time in our meeting, she looked uncertain. Finally, resolve filled her face. “If you can be trusted not to do something stupid with them, I might lend you some of my books.”

I clasped my hands together. “That would be . . . wow. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Stop babbling,” she snapped. “I said ‘might.’ I haven’t given them to you yet. These are quality books, passed down through my family. I’m not some upstart witch. My magical lineage goes back generations.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

She hesitated a few moments more. “If you can get them, you can borrow them. They’re in the attic.” She jerked her head toward a ceiling trapdoor on the far side of the room.

I immediately stood up, and Adrian started to join me.

“Not you, pretty boy,” she warned. “I want her to do this on her own. They’re in a box labeled ‘Charm Mechanics.’”

He gave me a sympathetic look, but I shook my head. “No problem.” I’d at least only worn half-heeled shoes. Surely I could maneuver in an attic.

And I did . . . but not easily. The place was filled with dust and insulation, and the “Charm Mechanics” box was underneath five other heavy boxes. When I finally hauled my treasure down the attic ladder a half hour later, Adrian’s and Ms. Terwilliger’s amused expressions told me exactly how I must look. Inez nodded in approval.

“I think I like you,” she said thoughtfully. “You should visit again. You’re interesting.”

Later, when we were on the highway to Palm Springs, Ms. Terwilliger was full of mirth and incredulity. “Do you realize what you accomplished here? You not only got her to lend your books—which she never gives out, by the way—you also got the closest to a personal invitation I’ve ever heard her give.” She shook her head and laughed. “You never cease to amaze me, Sydney. Do you want to store the books at my house?” That was where most of my growing collection of magical supplies were. They couldn’t be trusted to my dorm room anymore, not with Zoe around.

“I’ll keep them at Adrian’s,” I said automatically. She didn’t comment, and I wondered if I’d made a mistake. Ms. Terwilliger asked few questions about my personal life, romantic or Alchemist, but she was neither stupid nor oblivious. Maybe witches took vampires in stride, but I wondered if she suspected—and judged—the full extent of my relationship with Adrian.

Adrian leaned forward from the backseat. “That was a lot of work you did for some books. I assume you have some genius plan?”

I dragged my attention from my disheveled skirt and allowed myself to rekindle the excitement I’d felt earlier when Inez’s words had set off a lightbulb in my head. “I’m not sure if it’s genius or not,” I said. “But I think . . . well, I think I can replicate Marcus’s ink.”