And yet, after almost a minute of tense silence, I saw a glimmer of something across the courtyard. Slowly, it expanded into a man’s figure, and Marcus suddenly stood before us. He looked the same as ever, with his shoulder‑length blond hair and the bright indigo tattoo latticed over his now‑fading Alchemist lily. There was a confusion written all over him that I could understand. I’d thought I was in a normal dream the first time Adrian had summoned me, and then, gradually, I’d gotten the sense that there was something off about it.

“Nice to see you again, Marcus,” I told him.

He frowned and examined his hands, touching them together as though he expected them to have no substance. “Is this real?”

“Real enough,” said Adrian.

“You’re in a spirit dream,” I explained.

Marcus looked disbelieving for a moment, and then wonder filled his eyes. “Wow.” He glanced around. “Where are we?”

“Malibu,” I said, earning more surprise. “Where are you? Mexico?”

He dragged his gaze from the buildings around us. “Yeah, but we’re heading back soon. Amelia and Wade got their tattoos, and I got a tip about some rebels who need me in Arizona. We’re just waiting on a guy who’s going to help us get over the border. Always a lot harder getting back in.”

Marcus was on the Alchemists’ most‑wanted list. Any Alchemist who slipped out of their grasp was bad enough, let alone one actively recruiting others. With their many connections, he had to be extra careful in his movements, especially at high‑security places like a border. It seemed to occur to him then that this wasn’t a social call.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He almost seemed to expect that I wasn’t okay. For all his quirkiness, he’d been legitimately worried about me staying behind.

“Surprisingly, yes. I’ve got something that might help you.” I allowed a dramatic pause that was straight out of his playbook. “I might be able to make the ink that you use to seal the tattoos.”

He went slack jawed. “That . . . that’s impossible.”

Adrian scoffed. “Is it? She broke into a high‑security Alchemist stronghold and hunted you down. You think she can’t replicate what some random guy you dug up can do?”

Marcus had no counter for that and fixed his gaze back on me. “You’ve got indigo ink?”

“Not exactly. I can’t get the mineral I’m pretty sure your guy uses, but I think I know a couple others that’ll do the trick.”

“You ‘think,’” he repeated.

“The mineral’s not what matters. Well, it does a little. It’s the process of creating the ink that matters, and I know how to do that.” That wasn’t entirely true. I understood the principles but had yet to test them out. I hoped Marcus wouldn’t push me for details, because while he was on board with a lot of far‑out stuff, I wasn’t sure where me being involved with magic would fall.

He mulled things over for several long moments and then gave a rueful smile. “If anyone could pull off something like that, it’d be you.”

“Think what it means,” I said, excited that I’d made progress. “If we could mass‑produce the ink, you could reach more people. You also wouldn’t have to travel. You’d save a lot of time and be able to do more.”

Adrian, careful to keep his distance from me, laughed. “I don’t think Marcus minds the traveling. Beaches and margaritas, right?”

Marcus glared. “It’s not all about that. And you’re one to talk.”

Hostile tension suddenly filled the space between them. They’d actually gotten in a physical fight once, following a mis‑understanding when Marcus had accidentally hit me. Adrian hadn’t taken that very well, and although he’d eventually accepted that it was a mistake, I knew the incident weighed heavily upon him.

“Focus, you guys,” I snapped. “There’s no time for this.”

Their eyes stayed locked for several more agonizing seconds, and then Marcus turned back to me, unclenching hands I hadn’t realized were in fists. “So when will you know if you can pull this off?”

Excellent question. I’d learned a lot in my brief research but still needed to figure out a few more things. That, and I’d need a long stretch of time away from Zoe to work on it. Although I could still keep claiming I had to go off on projects with Ms. Terwilliger, I knew Zoe was starting to think the outings were too frequent. Maybe she didn’t have arcane suspicions, but there was always the chance she might tell my dad I was more focused on my fake education than the task at hand.

“A week. Maybe two.” I spoke more confidently than I felt.

Marcus frowned and then gave a slow nod. “I think we’ll be back near then. I need to get more information from my contact. Can you check in next week and let me know how it’s going?”

I hesitated. “It’d be better if you could manage a phone call–”

“No problem,” said Adrian, ignoring my sharp look. “As long as you’re asleep around this time and not too busy with ocean villa parties.”

He knew as well as I did that Marcus was usually forced to stay in hovels. “Great,” I said. “We’ll be in touch.”

Adrian took that as a dismissal and sent Marcus away. “Always a delight.”

“You shouldn’t have done that . . . but, well, thank you. It helps a lot,” I admitted.

Alone again, Adrian wrapped me in his arms. “Anything for you, Sage. Come over tomorrow, and I’ll consider it a debt well paid.”

Thrills ran through me, both at the suggestion and the way his hand slid up my hip and played with the edge of my shirt. Things felt real in these dreams. Very real.

“I can’t,” I admitted. “I’ve got to use that time to get some help from Ms. Terwilliger.”

The disappointment in his eyes was so fleeting, I could almost believe I’d imagined it. The smug smile he put on made it seem as though nothing in the world was wrong. That was how he operated and why so few knew of the inner turmoil that raged within him.

“Well, then, I suppose that’ll just give you more time to fantasize about me,” he declared. “Because of course that’s what you’ll secretly be doing instead of working.”

“Of course,” I laughed. After long kisses goodbye, I faded off to true sleep.

When I showed up for Ms. Terwilliger’s independent study the next day, she was waiting with her coat and keys. “Spencer’s first,” she said curtly. “It’s been one of those days.”

“We don’t have that much time,” I protested. That, and going to my favorite coffee shop was pretty torturous these days.

“We can talk along the way,” she said.

She was true to her word as we drove over, explaining some of the more pragmatic aspects both of charm making and manipulating the elements. “It’s a tricky art, working with them in their purest form,” she mused. “Simultaneously simple yet infinitely complex.” It sounded like my relationship with Adrian.

When we walked into Spencer’s, I half hoped to see my friend Trey Juarez working the counter. I remembered moments later that we were still technically in school hours and not everyone got to take off early like I did. Between Adrian and Zoe, I hadn’t had much time to talk to Trey. The new semester had rearranged our schedules, so we no longer shared any classes. I didn’t know if avoiding him was a good or bad thing. He had a lot of complex issues going on in his life, issues that overlapped with my own life–because Trey had been born into a group of vampire hunters.

Calling themselves the Warriors of Light, they claimed their focus was on destroying Strigoi, but much like the Alchemists, the Warriors didn’t have that high of an opinion of Moroi and dhampirs either. Trey was currently on the outs with the Warriors, after inadvertently helping me disband a crazy killing ritual of theirs. For a while, being ostracized had tormented him, especially because of his dad’s pressure. Then, something had changed.

Trey had fallen for Angeline.

Out of all the outlandish things she was involved in, that one had caught me by surprise more than anything. The drama had grown increasingly complex because she had technically been dating Eddie at the time, who had rebounded to her after deciding his love for Jill was futile, since he’d never be worthy of her. Eddie and Angeline’s relationship had ended abruptly when we’d discovered that her tutoring sessions with Trey had become make‑out sessions.