Zeppler held out a hand, and a new henchman materialized from somewhere to Arthur’s right. He stepped forward and put a pair of black gloves in Zeppler’s hand.
Zeppler’s eyes flicked to Rory as he pulled the gloves on. “She outwitted you. Although, to be frank, I can’t imagine that was very hard to do.”
“Leave him alone,” said Arthur. “You want a target, I’m right here—”
His mouth stopped itself.
“Thank you,” Zeppler said to Becker, taking the ring box out of his hand. “Lieutenant Kenzie’s thoughts are loud enough.”
Zeppler walked forward, through the headlight beams and toward Rory, ring box in hand. Rory glared at him, chest heaving.
“Your thoughts are loud too,” Zeppler said. “You have absolutely no control over them. But you have absolutely no control at all. Imagine holding all the magic that you do in such unskilled hands. It’s like giving a toddler the reins of a stagecoach; you’ll only stampede over everything in your path.”
Rory pursed his lips.
“I don’t need to find out if Becker’s blood magic can handle your magic.” Zeppler nodded to the siphon sitting on the manor’s steps. “Frankly, I hope your magicisthe stronger, because I’ll be taking it for myself. You’ll be easy to control then.”
Zeppler looked over at Arthur. “Of course, taking your psychometry will mean Lieutenant Kenzie’s death.”
“What?” Rory whispered, his head snapping toward Arthur.
“Oh, he knows already. Gwen Taylor told him,” said Zeppler. “His contact with the pomander relic has torn his aura. His lifeforce is now held together only by the magic you’ve woven into him. Without it, his aura will disintegrate, and he’ll die.”
Rory’s eyes were wide and grief stricken. And Arthur couldn’t do anything, couldn’t even sayI’m so sorry, you deserved to know.
“He never told you,” Zeppler said, with a snort, “because he’s a coward. He simply couldn’t bear to put that pressure on your shoulders. Wanted you to finally have freedom after all those years on your own leash—what sentimental rot. It’s actually fortunate you met me so someone could finally tell you the truth.”
“Go to hell,” Rory bit out.
And Arthur could have sworn he felt a shiver in his aura.
Zeppler’s head jerked Arthur’s way. “You’re imagining things,” he said sharply. “He’s in lead cuffs. His magic can do nothing for you right now.”
“My magic’s never leaving him,” Rory said fiercely, with such bone-deep conviction that Arthur felt it all the way to his chest. “You can try all you want with the siphon clock. You can drain me but my magic’s not budging. His aura saved my mind the night we met, and my magic is his now.” He looked at Arthur. “He can keep it forever.”
Teddy. Arthur couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t control his own heartbeat. But his emotions weren’t the Puppeteer’s to control, and his affection for Rory swelled to a dizzying height.
Zeppler’s expression had turned uglier. “We’ll see about that.”
Rory’s mouth snapped shut. And Arthur understood, because Zeppler had closed his eyes and from the horrified look on Rory’s face, Arthur knew Zeppler was digging in his mind.
“The siphon takes paranormal blood to unlock, from three paranormals,” Zeppler said aloud, eyes still closed. “To make a new relic requires a fresh death, but we already have Mr. Chance’s corpse. We’ll need gold flakes; check inside the manor. I can see in Giovacchini’s mind how the hands must be set. Bring him to the steps.”
The henchmen scattered to obey. Zeppler beckoned with one finger, and Arthur could only watch, helpless, as Rory was frog-marched up to the manor’s steps.
The siphon clock glittered, gold on gray stone.
The guards shoved Rory to his knees as Becker knelt alongside him, knife in hand. Zeppler bent, holding out his ungloved hand to Becker, who made the tiniest of cuts with an unsettling delicacy.
Zeppler moved the solar ecliptic hand to Leo, then shook out his finger. “Of course I trust Becker with my blood,” he said dryly, giving Arthur an unimpressed look. “I hear his every thought. He is my most loyal. My favorite. And I will use his blood and Mr. Giovacchini’s on the siphon as well.”
Becker was using his own bloody finger to move the siphon clock’s moon hand. He set it to Taurus, then looked at Zeppler.
Zeppler cocked his head, as if listening. “I suppose that is true,” he finally said out loud, to Becker. “We will have to take off Mr. Giovacchini’s lead cuffs to drain his magic.”
Arthur saw Rory take a breath.
Then Zeppler went very still. He looked at Rory, eyes narrowed. “Impossible. Lead stops all magic.”
