“In the meantime…” Jameson waited for Toby to join him at the rail before he continued, “What do you know about alchemy?”
Every few minutes, Jameson flashed back to his phone call with Rohan, to the symbol of the Devil’s Mercy, an alchemical symbol for alchemy, a reminder that some patterns were always repeating—across years and centuries and men.
“Alchemy?” Toby, like Jameson, didn’t even blink at the sun. “Part precursor to modern chemistry, part esoteric mumbo-jumbo, focused on the transmutation of matter. Some alchemists had a particular interest in metals.”
“The kind you need a crucible to melt.” Jameson felt like he was swiping at smoke and fog. He knew what Xander would have said:You need more sleep.
But what Jameson needed—the only thing he needed—was Avery. He had no choice but to keep going.The crucible. The symbol. The Devil’s Mercy.Logically, Jameson knew there might be no connection between the puzzle he’d come to London to solve and the one that had brought Toby here. Jamesonknewthat it would be foolish to allow himself to become distracted from his original goal in coming to London.
And yet…
Jameson gave into the urge to climb up on the terrace railing. He balanced there, on the balls of his feet, willing the prospect of that fifty-foot drop to crack open his mind and allowpossibilityafterpossibilityheretofore unseen to come rushing in.
“You’re reckless.” There was no judgment in Toby’s tone.
“I’m a ticking time bomb,” Jameson replied.
“Been there, done that.” Toby climbed up on the railing next to Jameson and stared out at the city. “The trick is to imagine her glaring at you and putting out the fuse.”
Chapter 38
JAMESON
It didn’t take Jameson much longer to discover that there was a work of art—a drawing—currently residing in London, rather wordily entitledAn Alchemist with Angel’s Wings and a Skull Cap, Pouring Fluid from a Ladle into a Crucible.
“Why the sudden interest in alchemy?” Toby probed.
“The old man left a game for Alice. I’ve been playing it, and it brought me here.” To London. To the flat. To the Mercy.
“Tell me,” Toby ordered as a pajama-clad Xander padded into the room, but before Jameson could say a thing, Toby’s phone rang. Jameson fully expected his uncle to ignore it, but Toby answered the moment he registered who was calling.
Jameson wasn’t sure what to read into that. Within thirty seconds, Toby had hung up after having barely said a word.
“Tell me.” Jameson weaponized his uncle’s own words against him. Toby had a good poker face—but not good enough.
“I have to go.” Toby was already on the move.
Jameson flew into action, following his uncle to the door. “Go? Go where?”
“This doesn’t concern you, Jameson.”
“Does Avery concernyou?” Jameson bit back. There was no reply, and a desperate sort of fury rose up in Jameson. “Does Hannah?” That was probably cruel, but Jameson didn’t care. Toby didn’t get to swoop in, drop that postcard in their laps, lecture Jameson about dousing the fuse, and thenwalk away.
“Take a step back, Jameson,” Toby ordered, his voice low.
Jameson took a step forward instead. “What if your Hannah got another offer when Avery was fifteen? What if her death was staged?” Jameson didn’t believe that. Not really. Not based on Avery’s description of her mother’s illness. But if there was one person on the planet who understood what Jameson was feeling right now—everything he was feeling—it was Toby.
To hell with his uncle for even thinking aboutwalking away.
“What if your Hannah the Same Backward as Forward is out there somewhere and that postcard was her way of telling you where?” Jameson challenged. “What if she’s been waiting foryears, and you never even looked?”
He willed his uncle to take the first swing.
Toby looked past Jameson to Xander. “I have to go,” Toby told Xander. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. Make sure this one doesn’t get himself arrested—or killed—while I’m gone.”
“Who was on the phone?” Jameson’s voice was rough in his throat. “What did they tell you?What do you know?”
“I know,” Toby replied quietly, his intensity a match for Jameson’s own, “what it’s like for your entire world to begin and end with another person’s eyes, to have fallen so deeply in love with her mind and her strength and her soul that you will never be the same. I know slippery slopes and that little voice that says that without her, life isn’t worth living. I know what it’s like to want to burn the whole world down, and I know Avery.” Toby fixed Jameson with a look. “I know it would break Avery’s heart to come back and find you covered in ashes. So you are damn well going to find a way keep a handle on that fuse.”
