If Penelope were here, she’d make me explain myself.

Thank magic she isn’t here yet.

I’ve just pushed my fingers between Baz’s shirt buttons; his skin is room temperature.

Then someone clears her throat. Baz stands up straight, which means his mouth jerks away from mine. I step away so quickly, I’m not sure I didn’t teleport.

His maid or nanny or whatever she is, is standing in the archway. She’s wearing a black dress and a white apron. “Mr. Pitch,” she says, and she must get paid to pretend she doesn’t notice anything around here, because she doesn’t even flinch. Boys kissing is probably mild—she’s probably walked into interrogations and goat sacrifices. “You have guests,” she says. “Two young ladies.”

“Thank you, Vera,” Baz says without a hint of apology. “Send them in.” He straightens his shirt and smooths down his hair.

“Girls?” I say. “More than one?”

“Agatha,” Baz says over my shoulder, “welcome. Hello, Bunce.”

I spin around. Penelope and Agatha are standing in the library door; they must not have waited for the maid to come back for them. Penny’s already eyeing the library bookshelves lustfully. Agatha’s looking at me.

“What are you doing here?” I say.

“Baz called us,” Penny says. She walks into the room and hands me a plate of gingerbread biscuits covered in plastic wrap.

“What are you doing here?” Agatha asks me.

“Agatha was staying with me,” Penny explains, “and she had her car, so—”

“Please come in, Agatha,” Baz invites. “Could I get you both something to drink?”

“I’ll have tea,” Penny says.

“Excellent,” he says, striding past Agatha out the door.

“What is this?” Agatha says. “Penelope wouldn’t even tell me where we were going. What are you doing here, Simon?”

I frown at Penny.

She unwraps the plate of gingerbread and takes one. “I didn’t know what I was allowed to say! And I didn’t think she’d drive me if I told her where we were going. You two need to get over this, Simon. If you can make peace with Baz, you can make peace with Agatha.”

“Temporary peace,” Baz says, already back with tea and a plate of fruit. He must have used magic.

“I’ll pour,” Penny says.

“Temporary peace?” Agatha asks. Penny hands her a cup of tea. “Are you all possessed?” She hands the tea back. “I’m not drinking this.”

Baz looks at me. “Your call, Snow. Do you trust her?”

Agatha’s fuming. “Does he trust me?”

“Of course,” I say. And it’s true, to some extent, anyway. I trust Agatha not to be evil. I don’t trust her alone with Baz—though I guess I should rethink all that, in light of recent information. “Agatha, um—”

“We’re trying to figure out who killed Baz’s mother,” Penelope cuts in.

“The Humdrum killed her,” Agatha says.

Penny holds her teacup up, gesturing with it. “Not according to her, he didn’t.”

Agatha looks confused. And a little pissed off.

I look to Baz. It seems like he should be the one to tell this part, as much of it as he wants to, but he’s back at his whiteboard, filling out the Everything we know column—ghosts, Visitings, vampires. Penny jumps up as soon as Baz adds Nicodemus to the list.

I take her place on the couch next to Agatha.

“When did this all start?” Agatha asks me.

“When the Veil thinned,” I say. “Natasha Grimm-Pitch came through to find Baz and found me instead. She wants him to find her murderer. When Baz came back, I told him I’d help him figure it out.”

Agatha’s eyebrows are almost touching in the middle, and her nose is wrinkled. “Why?”

“Because it seemed like the right thing to do.”

“It did?”

I shrug. “Yeah. I mean—it was an attack on Watford. A murder.”

“What did the Mage say about all this?”

“He didn’t. Exactly.” I look down at my lap, scratching the hair above my neck. “Penny and Baz don’t think we should tell him.”

“Penny and Baz think?”

“It’s Baz’s mum,” I say, “so I feel like I should respect his wishes on this.”

“But Baz hates you!”

I nod. “I know. We’re sort of … on a truce?”

“Simon, listen to yourself—a truce?”

“You went to a vampire bar!” Penny shouts from across the room. Baz must be catching her up. “What a pair of splendid morons you are! Did you take photos?”

“Vampires don’t show up in photos,” I say.

“That’s mirrors, you dolt,” Baz says.

“You can’t see yourself in the mirror?”

Baz ignores me and goes back to telling Penny about Nicodemus.

“But…” Agatha is staring at the two of them. “Baz is dark. He’s evil.”

“I thought you never believed that,” I say.

“I absolutely believed it,” she says. “You told us he was a vampire, Simon. Wait—” She turns to him, then back to me. “—did he just now admit that he is a vampire?”

I pull at the hair on my neck. I can tell I’m making an idiotic face. “I’m not sure it’s that simple.…”

“That Baz is a vampire?”

“No, he’s definitely a vampire,” I say. “I guess it is that simple. But you can’t tell anyone, Agatha.”

“Simon, you’ve already told everyone. You’ve been telling everyone since we were third years.”

“Yeah, but nobody believed me.”

“I believed you.”

“‘One of you’?” Penelope says loudly. “What does Nicodemus mean by that? That it was another mage who let the vampires in? Or one of you Pitches, someone in your family—”

“It wouldn’t have been someone in my family,” Baz protests. “Never.”

“Your relatives are famous betrayers,” Penny argues. “There was a time in the 1700s when they weren’t even allowed to sign contracts.”

“Yes, but we never betray each other.”

Baz keeps telling Penny about Nicodemus. And Ebb. “Simon’s the one who broke it all open,” he says, “without even opening a book.”

“Typical,” Penny says.

Baz doesn’t tell her the way Nicodemus threatened him or taunted him. He doesn’t tell her much about Fiona. He doesn’t say how fucking cool he was at the bar, or how he lost it completely as soon as he walked out. How I kissed him to save his life—and then kissed him just because I wanted to. (I’m just now realizing that maybe I could have saved his life some other way.…)

“So you’re staying here?” Agatha says. To me.

“No, I just came to tell Baz about Nicodemus, and then I didn’t have a ride home.”

“Who’s Nicodemus again?”

“The person who knows who the traitor is,” Penny answers, then turns to me. “I can’t believe you guys just walked away from him, knowing he has all the answers! If he’d told you who tried to hire him, we’d be done now.”

“We couldn’t compel him,” I say. “And we couldn’t beat it out of him—we were surrounded by vampires.”

Penelope folds her arms. “I guess.”

“The ethics on you, Bunce,” Baz says.

“What did you find out, Penny?” I ask.

“Not much, in comparison.” She leans back against a bookshelf and crosses her ankles. “I talked to my dad about the Humdrum. He confirmed that nobody blamed the Humdrum for the Watford Tragedy until years later. They just thought it was another vampire attack. Hey, Agatha, are you caught up yet? Maybe we could talk to your parents—your dad might remember something—”

“I’m not caught up,” Agatha says.

“Well, catch up,” Penny says. “It’s all on the whiteboard. I’ve got to say, it’s good to have you back.”

“I’m not sure I am back,” Agatha mutters. Only I hear her.

“It’s been really good,” I tell her. “Actually. Working with Baz instead of fighting with him.”

“Is that why you were looking for him?” she asks. “That night on the ramparts? Because of a Visiting?”

“Sort of…”

Penny and Baz keep adding notes to the board. They’re fighting over the dry-erase marker. I feel like I should stay sitting with Agatha, and answer her questions, but she doesn’t say any more. And she still won’t drink any tea.