Only to feel something hard and metal against his tuxedo jacket, between his shoulder blades.
“Hands in the air, Lieutenant Kenzie. I suspect you’re familiar with a Mauser pistol.”
The man’s voice was cool, with a soft Spanish accent. Arthur clenched his teeth but put both hands up. “You know my name.”
“I do.” The pistol cocked. “Turn around. Slowly.”
Arthur blew out a breath. Not one of the men had so much as looked in their direction. Keeping his hands up, he slowly turned around.
The man was indeed holding a Mauser. He was around Arthur’s age and obnoxiously handsome to be pointing a gun in Arthur’s face. On the hand that held the gun, Arthur could see the inside of his wrist and a tattooed pattern that disappeared into his shirtsleeve.
Arthur smiled thinly and adopted his most polished party voice. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, then, because I don’t believe I’ve been given your name. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr....”
“De León. But Sebastian will do.” He said it easily, like he wasn’t concerned if Arthur had it, which didn’t bode well if he thought he had that much of the upper hand. “I thought you weren’t magic.”
“Nobody’s perfect,” Arthur said lightly.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “So why aren’t you in a trance like the rest of the mundane aboard this ship?”
Whywasn’the in a trance? But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew why.Because it’s Rory’s magic. It knows me. It won’t hurt me.The thought gave him courage. “I’m hardly the person to explain magic,” he said, instead of answering.
“Hmm.” Sebastian eyed him. “Did you come all this way for the antiques dealer? A fool’s errand that’s only trapped you too.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Is he with Miss Shelley?”
His jaw tightened. “Shelley’s gone. I’m afraid you’ll have to take your antiques dealer up with Mr. Hyde.”
Arthur’s blood went cold. “I don’t make a habit of fighting,” he said, clenching his fists. “But I need him returned, and I suspect I can grab that gun faster than you can shoot me.”
“No,” Sebastian said calmly, “you can’t.”
And before Arthur could move, something swept over him, and his legs gave out.
He collapsed to the floor of the luggage room, his muscles like water, his body refusing to stand. “What—”
“Enervation.” Sebastian’s Mauser stayed trained between Arthur’s eyes. “It weakens magic, and it’s not much fun for auras either.”
Arthur tried to reach up but his body didn’t want to obey. His eyelids were heavy, his heartbeat sluggish in his ears.
“So you’re not in a trance, but my magic works on you.” Sebastian crouched. “I’m sorry about this, but Ineedanswers, and if you know Theodore Giovacchini well enough to come all the way to Philadelphia for him, I think you know why my magic doesn’t work on him.” He moved the pistol closer. “I know of only one explanation for magic as strong as his, so tell me: which relic does he control?”
Arthur forced his lips to move. “What do you know about the relics?”
“Plenty.” Sebastian sounded unenthusiastic, the way Arthur might sound if someone asked himwhat do you know about politics?“The question you should be asking is whyyouknow anything about relics.”
Arthur furrowed his brows.
“For four hundred years those relics have stayed buried,” Sebastian said. “Have you never wondered why they’re suddenly being found again?”
Arthur’s mouth opened, then closed.
“But you haven’t answered my question.” He gestured with the gun. “Which relic is bound to Giovacchini?”
Sasha’s words rang in Arthur’s head.Very little is stronger than magic made with blood.
He had only a split second to hope his plan would work. “There’s no relic,” he made himself say, then made an aborted move toward his vest pocket, where Rory’s compass was still tucked. The compass enchanted with blood magic, made with his blood when it still had Rory’s magic. He had to hope it would be strong enough.
Sebastian’s eyes followed his hand and widened. “Do you have his relic?”
