“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.”
CHAPTER 5
ADRIAN
SYDNEY SPENT A LOT OF TIME ON MY BED THESE DAYS. Unfortunately, it wasn’t with me.
I didn’t entirely follow how all that back-and-forthing with Inez had given Sydney the idea to make anti-Alchemist ink, but I’d never claimed I could keep up with her mind. Once she took up the quest, make-out hour had become research hour. She couldn’t work on it around Zoe, and although Jackie pretty much let Sydney do whatever she wanted, their time was limited too. And so, our romantic interludes were reallocated.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the old system, but I wanted her to pursue the ink. As much as I’d disliked Marcus Finch, I had supported his goals to thwart the Alchemists’ influence and attempts at mind control. Sydney had chosen not to go with him to finish the process because she wasn’t ready to embrace his drifter way of life; plus she believed she could accomplish more by staying connected to the Alchemists. Those were noble reasons, but I knew full well that another one—perhaps the greatest—was that she hadn’t wanted to leave me.