She and I went down to the lobby, with no more mention of Adrian. When we stepped outside, we found Eddie and Angeline pointedly avoiding eye contact with each other. Standing near them was a tall, good-looking guy with neatly trimmed black hair and bright blue eyes. He wore a stern, serious expression and was scanning the area.
“He’s a dhampir,” Jill murmured to me.
His eyes locked onto us at our approach, and that fierce look relaxed.
“Jill, Sydney,” said Eddie. “This is Neil Raymond. He’s going to be joining us here.”
Neil swept Jill a bow so low, it was a wonder he didn’t hit the ground. “Princess Jillian,” he said in a deep voice. “It’s an honor to serve you, and I’ll do so to the best of my abilities, even if it means sacrificing my own life.”
Jill took a step back, her eyes wide as she took him in. “Th-thank you.”
Eddie looked back and forth between them, a small frown appearing on his face. “Neil’s been sent as backup. I guess you filed some complaint about Jill not having enough protection?” That was to me, and unless I was mistaken, there was an accusatory note in his voice.
“No—I. Oh. I guess I kind of did.” When I’d been trying to do damage control with Stanton, one of my grievances had been that I never felt Jill was safe. I guess this was Stanton’s response. It was surprising, just as Eddie had said, but more eyes on her couldn’t hurt. From the way she was sizing Neil up, she certainly didn’t seem to mind either.
I shook his hand. “Nice to have you around, Neil. Are they passing you off as another cousin?”
“Just a new student,” he said. That was probably just as well. Our “family” was in danger of taking over Amberwood.
I would’ve liked to learn a little more about him, but my time was up. Marcus was picking me up soon to go to the train station, seeing as Latte had been declared totaled. I guess that was a different sort of closure, albeit a sad kind.
I told them all goodbye as I left to get my suitcase, acting as though I just had to run an errand. Eddie, Angeline, and Jill knew the truth, and I could see the hurt and regret in their eyes—especially Jill. I prayed they’d be okay without me. When I came back downstairs, I found Jill was the only one still there.
“I forgot to give you this,” she said, handing over a small envelope. My name was on the outside, and I recognized the writing.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of him and thought he might be avoiding me. This is his goodbye, huh?” I felt disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to see Adrian in person one last time. Maybe a letter was better than nothing, but I wished I could have left with those beautiful eyes fresh in my mind. “Is he . . . is he really upset?” I couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting.
“Read the letter,” she said mysteriously. “And remember, Sydney. This isn’t about me. This is about you guys. You can control everything else, but not this. Let go, and accept how you feel.”
We left on that note, and I went outside to sit on the curb and wait for Marcus. I stared at the envelope, looking at the way Adrian had written my name. Three times I nearly opened it . . . but chickened out each time. Finally, I saw Marcus drive in, and the envelope disappeared into my purse.
As soon as he picked me up, he began talking excitedly about the big plans ahead. I barely heard. All I kept thinking about was Adrian and how empty my life was going to seem without him. Marcus and I were meeting Wade and Amelia at the train station, but I couldn’t picture any of them understanding me like Adrian—even if they were human and shared the same background. None of them would have his dry wit or uncanny insight. And simmering beneath all those emotions were the more heated memories . . . the way we’d kissed, the way it had felt to be wrapped up in him. . . .
“Sydney? Are you even paying attention?”
I blinked and glanced over at Marcus. I think it was another of those moments where he couldn’t believe someone wasn’t hanging on to his every word. “Sorry,” I said. “My mind’s somewhere else.”
He grinned. “Well, shift it to beaches and margaritas because your life’s about to change.”
It was always beaches and margaritas with him. “You left out the part about us sealing the tattoo. Unless your tattooist is also a bartender.”
“There you go again, funny and beautiful.” He laughed. “We’re going to have a great time.”
“How long will we be down there?”
“Well, we’ll take care of the tattoos first. That’s the most important thing.” I was relieved to see him taking that seriously. “Then we’ll lie low, enjoy the sights for a few weeks. After that, we’ll come back and follow some leads on other dissatisfied Alchemists.”
“And then you’ll repeat the process?” I asked. In the rearview mirror, I could see the Palm Springs skyline disappearing as we drove north. I felt a pang of longing in my chest. “Get others to retrieve critical information and then free them?”
“Exactly.”
We drove in silence for another minute as I processed his words. “Marcus, what do you do with that information you gather? I mean, what are you going to do about Master Jameson?”
“Keep finding more evidence,” he said promptly. “This is the biggest lead we’ve ever had. Now we can really push forward in finding out more.”
“It’s more than a lead. Why not leak it to the Moroi?”
“The Alchemists would deny it. Besides, we don’t want to be hasty.”
“So what if they do deny it?” I demanded. “At least the Moroi will have a heads-up.”
He glanced over at me with a look that reminded me of a parent trying to be patient with a child. Ahead of us, I saw a sign for the train station. “Sydney, I know you’re eager, but trust me. This is the way we’ve always done things.”
“I don’t know that it’s the right way, though.”
“You have a lot of ideas for someone who just joined up.” He chuckled. I wished he’d stop doing that. “Just wait, and then you’ll understand.”
I didn’t like his condescending attitude. “I think I already understand. And you know what? I don’t think you guys do anything. I mean, you’ve uncovered some amazing information . . . but then what? You keep waiting. You run away and skulk around. How is this really helping? Your intentions are good . . . but that’s all they are.” I could almost hear Jill’s voice: They talk. You act.
Ironically, Marcus was speechless.
“You could do so much,” I continued. “When I first found out about you, you seemed to hold all the potential in the world. Technically, you still do. But it’s being wasted.” He pulled into the train station’s parking lot, still looking utterly stunned.
“Where the hell is this coming from?” he asked at last.
“Me,” I said. “Because I’m not like you guys. I can’t do nothing. I can’t run away. And . . . I can’t go with you.”
It felt good to say that . . . and it also felt right. All week, my brain had been telling me the right thing to do was to walk away before things with Adrian and the Alchemists blew up. And yes, that probably was the smart thing. My heart had never entirely been on board, but I’d tried to ignore it. It wasn’t until I’d listened to both Jill and Marcus that I realized just this once, my brain might have to opt for the less logical solution.
I had to give Marcus credit. He actually looked concerned and wasn’t just put out at not getting his way. “Sydney, I know how attached you are to this place and these people, but it’s not safe for you here. It’s not safe for you anywhere, not as long as the Alchemists are watching. Not as long as your tattoo is vulnerable.”
“Someone told me any life worth living has risks,” I said, unable to hide a smile. I never thought I’d be quoting Jill.
Marcus slammed his fist against the dashboard. “That’s sentimental bullshit! It sounds good in theory, but the reality is completely different.”
“What kind of reality could you have created if you’d stayed with the Alchemists?” I asked. “How
much could you have uncovered?”
“Nothing if I was caught,” he said flatly. “And no matter how useless you think we are, I’ve freed dozens of Alchemists. I’ve helped Clarence and other Moroi.”
“You aren’t useless, Marcus. You do good work, but we’re just not on the same path, that’s all. I’m staying and doing things my way. Isn’t that what you said when we first met? Helping the Moroi on our own terms? These are mine.”
“You’re wasting your time!”
“It’s my time to waste,” I said. Adrian had said exactly the same thing to me on the flight to the wedding, when I’d told him he couldn’t keep loving me. I felt bad for Marcus. I really did, especially since he’d truly been counting on me to come with him.
He caught hold of my hand. “Sydney, please don’t do this,” he begged. “No matter how confident you feel, no matter how careful you think you are, things will spiral out of control.”
“They already have,” I said, opening the passenger door. “And I’m going to stop fighting them. Thank you for everything, Marcus. I mean it.”
“Wait, Sydney,” he called. “Just tell me one thing.”
I glanced back and waited.
“Where did this come from? When you called me to tell me you were coming, you said you’d realized it was the smart thing to do. What made you change your mind?”
I gave him a smile that I hoped was as dazzling as one of his. “I realized I’m in love.”
Marcus, startled, looked around as though he expected to see my objet d’amour in the car with us. “And you just realized that? Did you just have some sort of vision?”
“Didn’t need to,” I said, thinking of Wolfe’s ill-fated trip to the Orkneys. “It’s always been right in front of me.”
CHAPTER 25
ONCE MARCUS FINALLY ACCEPTED that I wasn’t going, he wished me well, though he still wore that stunned expression. He’d planned on abandoning the car at the station but handed the keys over to me as a parting gift. I watched him walk away and wondered if I’d made a mistake. Then I thought of green, green eyes and all the work Adrian and I had to do together. This was the right choice . . . I just hoped I wasn’t too late.
He still wasn’t answering my calls. Did he hate me? Or was he holed up somewhere, depressed and drinking away his sorrows? I fished his note out of my purse, wondering what I’d find. Knowing Adrian, I’d expected some long, flowery expression of love. Instead, all I found was a long series of numbers.
The numbers meant nothing to me. I studied them for a while in the car, applying a few common codes I knew. No answer appeared, though I wasn’t entirely surprised. Codes and complex mathematics weren’t exactly Adrian’s style. But then, why had he left the note? Obviously, he assumed I could decipher it.
I held the note far away from me, hoping something visual would reveal itself. It did. As I looked at the numbers again, I saw a natural break in the middle of them, in a format that looked familiar. I entered the two sets of numbers into the latitude and longitude screen of my GPS. A moment later, it turned up an address in Malibu. Southern California. Was that a coincidence?
Without even thinking twice, I pulled out of the train station’s parking lot and headed toward the coast. It was entirely possible I was about to waste two and a half hours (five, if you counted the round trip), but I didn’t think so. There are no coincidences.
It felt like the longest drive of my life. My hands tightly clenched the wheel the entire time. I was eager yet terrified. When I was only a few miles from the address, I began to see signs for the Getty Villa. For a few seconds, I was confused. The Getty Center was a very famous museum, but it was closer to Los Angeles. I didn’t understand the connection or why I had ended up in Malibu. Nonetheless, I dutifully followed the directions and ended up in the Villa’s guest parking lot.
When I reached the entrance, I received my answers. The Villa was a sister museum to the Getty Center, one that specialized in ancient Greek and Roman art. In fact, a good part of the Getty Villa was set up like some ancient temple, complete with pillars surrounding courtyards filled with gardens, fountains, and statues. Admission was free but required a reservation. Things were slow today, and I quickly rectified the problem by making an online reservation on my phone.
When I stepped inside, I nearly forgot why I was there—but only for a heartbeat. The museum was a dream come true for a lover of classics like me. Room after room focusing on the ancient world. Jewelry, statues, clothes . . . it was as if I’d entered a time machine. The scholar in me longed to study and read about each exhibit in detail. The rest of me, with a racing heart and barely contained excitement, only briefly stopped in each room, just long enough to search and move on.
After looking in almost all the interior areas, I stepped into the outer peristyle. My breath caught. It was a huge outdoor garden built around a pool that had to be at least two hundred feet long. Statues and fountains dotted the pool’s surface, and the whole space was surrounded in gorgeously manicured trees and other plants. The sun, warm despite the December day, shone down on everything, and the air hummed with birdsong, splashing water, and soft conversation. Tourists milled around, stopping to admire the sights or take pictures. None of them mattered, though—not when I finally found the person I was looking for.
He sat at the opposite end of the garden from where I’d entered, on the pool’s far edge. His back was to me, but I would have known him anywhere. I approached with trepidation, still churning with that odd mix of fear and eagerness. The closer I got, the more detailed his features became. The tall, lean body. The chestnut glints that the sun brought out in his dark hair. When I finally reached the pool’s end, I came to a stop just behind him, not daring to go farther.
“Sage,” he said, without looking up. “Figured you’d be south of the border by now.”
“No, you didn’t,” I said. “You never would’ve given me the note or come all the way out here. You knew I wouldn’t leave.”
He looked up at me at last, squinting in the bright sun. “I was pretty sure you wouldn’t leave. I hoped you wouldn’t leave. Jill and I debated it forever. What’d you think of my sweet use of latitude and longitude? Pretty brilliant, huh?”
“Genius,” I said, trying to hold back my smile. Some of my fear faded. We were back in familiar, easy territory again. Just Adrian and me. “You took a risk I’d know what those numbers meant. You could’ve been sitting out here all day.”
“Nah.” Adrian stood up and took a step toward me. “You’re a smart girl. I knew you’d figure it out.”
“Not that smart.” The closer he came, the more my heart began to race again. “It took me a long time to figure some things out.” I gestured around us. “And how is it possible that you knew this place existed, but I didn’t?”
His fingertips traced the edge of my cheek, and suddenly, the warmth of the sunshine felt like nothing compared to the heat of that touch. “It was easy,” he said, holding me in his gaze. “I had to start my search somewhere, so I typed ‘ancient Rome’ and ‘California’ into my phone. This was like the first hit.”
“What search?” I asked.
He smiled. “The search for some place more romantic than Pies and Stuff.”
Adrian tipped my face up toward his and kissed me. Like always, the world around me stopped moving. No, the world became Adrian, only Adrian. Kissing him was as mind-blowing as ever, full of that same passion and need I had never believed I’d feel. But today, there was even more to it. I no longer had any doubt about whether this was wrong or right. It was a culmination of a long journey . . . or maybe the beginning of one.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. I didn’t care that we were out in public. I didn’t care that he was Moroi. All that mattered was that he was Adrian, my Adrian. My match. My partner in crime, in the long battle I’d just signed on for to right the wrongs in the Alchemist and Moroi worlds. Maybe Marcus was right that I’d also signed myself up for disaster,
but I didn’t care. In that moment, it seemed that as long as Adrian and I were together, there was no challenge too great for us.
I don’t know how long we stood there kissing. Like I said, the world around me was gone. Time had stopped. I was awash in the feel of Adrian’s body against mine, in his scent, and in the taste of his lips. That was all that mattered right now, and I found myself thinking of our unfinished business in the dream.
When we finally broke the kiss—much too soon, as far as I was concerned—we still stayed locked in an embrace. The sound of giggling caused me to glance to the side, where two small children were laughing and pointing at us. Seeing me watching them, they scurried away. I turned back to Adrian, wanting to melt away with happiness as I looked up into his eyes.
“This is a lot better than loving from afar,” I told him.
He brushed some hair from my face and gazed into my eyes. “What changed your mind? I mean, I knew you’d never be able to stay away from me, but I won’t lie . . . you had me scared there for a little while.”
I leaned against his chest. “It was a combination of things, really. Some surprisingly good advice from Jill. One of Wolfe’s charming anecdotes—I have to tell you about his kitchen, by the way. Plus, I kept thinking about when we were on the table.”
Adrian shifted just enough so that we could look at each other again. It was one of those rare moments where he was completely floored. “Let me get this straight. The future of our relationship hinged on advice from a fifteen-year-old girl, a probably untrue story from a one-eyed Chihuahua trainer, and me unromantically—yet skillfully—kissing you on top of silverware and china?”
“Yup,” I said after a few moments of thought.
“That’s all it took, huh? And here I thought winning you over was going to be hard.” He grew serious again and pressed a light kiss to my forehead. “What happens now?”
“Now we check out this awesome museum you’ve lured me to. You’re going to love Etruscan art.”
That roguish smile I adored returned. “I’m sure I will. But what about the future? What are we going to do about us—about this?”
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