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She stood beside him, a good four inches taller, and passed him the books. “Merit, Ethan. I was just about to get started.”

“Jeff sent you the pictures?” Ethan asked.

“He did,” she said, and there was no denying the excitement in her eyes. She put a hand on her chest. “I don’t want to make light of what happened to Caleb. It’s just—I’ve never actually seen alchemy in practice. It’s such a rare specialty. I’m—I guess ‘intellectually intrigued’ would be the best phrase.”

She walked around the table, picked up a large poster that had been mounted to a sheet of foam board. It was at least four feet long and covered in rows of symbols.

“I just need to grab an easel from the storage room. Jeff figured out a way to blow up the symbols so they’re clearer and easier for us to read. And he’s divided them into two sets—one for me and one for Mallory.”

“How can I help?” I asked, not entirely sure that I could.

“Alchemical equations typically have their own architecture. I’m hoping this one does, too. If that’s right, and I can break the equations into their subparts, I’m going to give you some of the subparts for translation using these.” She tapped a finger on the books.

“Do you have any idea what the alchemy might be used for?” Ethan asked.

“Not without translating,” she said. “But I can tell you this—whatever it is, it’s big. Most alchemical equations are pretty simple; that’s the nature of alchemy. Right or wrong, alchemists believed you could change matter—change one thing into another, realize the true ‘essence’ of something—if you applied the right kind of solvent at the correct time of year, under the influence of the right heavenly bodies. It can get more complicated, sure.” She gestured to the board. “But this? This is a lot of symbols, plus pictographs—the hand-drawn elements. And there’s no explanatory text whatsoever. I think that’s the point of the pictographs—concealing the instructions. As far as I’m aware, they’re unique to the sorcerer, in which case the puzzle will be even harder to solve.”

“Bottom-line it for me,” Ethan said.

“Someone cared enough to be very careful and very specific about the thing addressed here. I’m just not yet sure what that ‘thing’ is. But you’ll be the first one to know.”

Ethan’s phone rang, and he pulled it out, checked the screen. “Give us a minute, would you?” he asked, and Paige and the Librarian nodded and disappeared into a row.

“It’s Gabriel,” Ethan said when we were alone, and pressed a button. “Ethan and Merit.”

Gabe didn’t waste any time. “I need a favor.”

Ethan’s brows lifted, and he put his hands on his hips. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve got an address for Caleb, but I can’t get away to check it out. I’ve got obligations as Apex related to the death, the wake.”

Ethan lifted his brows again, and I could guess the line of his thoughts: Why did an Apex have obligations to a member who’d defected? I didn’t doubt Gabriel was grieving; we’d seen it last night. But the Pack prided itself on loyalty. We simply didn’t have the entire story.

se he’d imagined himself a monster. “You miss them.”

He glanced at me. “It is a curse and blessing of immortality that you remember those who are gone even long after they are gone.”

I took his hand, squeezed it. “They would have been so happy, Ethan, to know that you’re alive. That you weren’t killed in battle and are thriving centuries later and keeping their memories alive. Leading your vampires with honor, working for peace.”

He tugged my ponytail, pulling me toward him, then pressed his lips to mine. “Thank you for that, Merit.”

“It’s the truth. They’d probably also be pleased that you’re famous and rich and have a smokin’ girlfriend.”

He snorted. “And there, you’ve taken it just one step too far. I’m hardly rich,” he added with a wink. “I’ve got some business to address tonight, supplicants who’ve been waiting, and I’d like to get you to help Paige with the translation.”

I nodded. “I’d planned that after grabbing a bite. Oh, and my grandfather sent a message—said the vampire’s DNA isn’t in the system. So he’s an unknown.”

“Then we’ll need to get to work.” He held out a hand. “Let’s get you fed and watered and into the library.”

• • •

Cadogan House was a lovely dame, with beautiful art, antiques, and vampires. But there was one room that outclassed them all.

The library—two stories of books, all meticulously organized and cataloged. The first floor featured dozens of shelves and tables for studying. The second was a balcony of more shelves ringed by red iron railings and accessible by an equally red spiral staircase.

One of the oak tables in the middle of the first floor had been piled with books. An Encyclopedia of Modern Alchemy, Alchemy and Hermeticism: A Primer, and Transmutations and Distillations for the Common Sorcerer were atop the stacks.

“Don’t get those out of order.”

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