The Indigo Spell (27 page)

The connection was fast, but it was still a big transfer. The screen told me it had
ten seconds to go.
Ten seconds.
The computer’s owner could be back by then. I allowed myself another peek at the
Alchemists. They were all still puzzling out the mystery. The thing about scientists
like us was that a technological failure like this was fascinating. Also, it never
occurred to any of them to look for a supernatural explanation. They tossed around
theories with each other and started to take the melted computer apart. My file finished
copying, and I sprang out of the chair, just as the woman began walking back toward
it. I’d been fully prepared to risk another “ghost door” while they were distracted,
but the fire alarm had summoned others in the hallway. People moved in and out with
such frequency that I had no trouble holding the door open just long enough for me
to sneak through.

I practically ran back to the archives level and had to calm myself when I reentered
the restroom. I uncast the invisibility spell and waited for my breathing to slow.
The thumb drive was back in my bra, the gloves back in my purse. Studying myself in
the mirror, I decided that I looked innocent enough to return to the archives.

One of the scribes let me in. It was the engrossed girl, and she gave me a look that
said opening the door was a waste of her time. Ian still appeared to be engulfed with
work in the back, which was a relief. I’d been gone far longer than a bathroom trip
would require and had worried he’d wonder where I was at. Things could’ve gone badly
if he’d sent the girl to find me, both because I wasn’t in the restroom and because
she’d be
really
annoyed at the interruption. Over in the history section, I sat on the floor with
a book picked at random, which I only pretended to read. I was too anxious and keyed
up to parse the words, no matter how many times I tried to reassure myself. There
was no reason for the Alchemists to suspect me of causing the fire. There was no reason
for them to think I’d stolen data. There was no reason for them to think I was connected
to any of this.

Ian found me when the hour was up, and I feigned disappointment at having to leave.
In reality, I couldn’t get out of this building fast enough. He drove me to the airport
and chattered nonstop about the next time we’d get to see each other. I smiled and
nodded appropriately but reminded him our work had to come first and that my post
was particularly consuming. He was obviously disappointed but couldn’t deny the logic.
The Alchemist greater good came first. Even better, he didn’t try one of those awful
kisses again—though he did suggest we set up some times for video chatting. I told
him to email me, secretly vowing I’d never open up any message from him.

I didn’t relax until the plane took off, when the potential for an Alchemist raid
seemed pretty low. The most paranoid part of me worried there could be a party waiting
for me at the Palm Springs airport, but for now I had a few hours of peace.

I’d just assumed I’d deliver the drive to Marcus and leave it at that. But now, with
it in my possession, my curiosity got the better of me. I had to get to the bottom
of this mystery. Was the Z. J. who’d visited the Alchemists really Master Jameson?

With fresh coffee in hand, I opened the file on my laptop and began to watch.

Even with one frame per second, the footage went on forever. Most of it was nothing
but a quiet checkpoint, with the most exciting parts being when the guards changed
position or took breaks. Plenty of Alchemists passed in and out, but relative to the
overall time span, they were few and far between. Ian actually showed up once, off
to start his shift.

I wasn’t even halfway through when the plane began its descent. Disheartened, I resigned
myself to an evening of more of the same when I got back to the dorm. At least I’d
be able to make some decent coffee to get me through. I was almost tempted just to
push the file off on Marcus tomorrow and let him deal with reviewing it . . . but
that nagging voice urging me to find out for myself won. It wasn’t just because of
my curiosity either. I didn’t really think Marcus would fabricate anything, but if
I could see for sure that—

There he was on the screen.

He wasn’t in those over-the-top robes, but there was no mistaking Master Jameson’s
old-fashioned beard. He wore business casual clothing and seemed to be smiling at
something a man beside him was saying. The man had a lily on his cheek but was no
one I knew.

Master Jameson. With the Alchemists.

Marcus and his Merry Men’s conspiracy had panned out. A suspicious part of me wanted
to believe this was a setup, that maybe they’d altered and planted this. But, no.
I’d taken it myself, off an Alchemist server. It was possible Marcus had more insiders
running errands for him, but this hadn’t been easy for me, even with magical assistance.
Besides, why would Marcus go to so much trouble to make me believe this? If it was
some twisted way to get me to join him, there were a million other ways he could have
attempted it, with evidence much easier to fake.

Something in my gut told me this was real. I hadn’t forgotten the similarities in
our rituals or how the Warriors had wanted our groups to merge. Maybe the Alchemists
and the Warriors weren’t best friends yet, but someone had at least humored Master
Jameson with a meeting. The question was, what had happened at that meeting? Had the
Alchemist in the footage sent Jameson packing? Were the two of them together right
now?

Regardless of the outcome, this was undeniable proof that the Alchemists and Warriors
were still in contact. Stanton had told me we merely kept an eye on them and had no
interest in hearing them out.

Once again, I had been lied to.

SOME PART OF ME BEGGED FOR
there to be a mistake. I watched the footage three more times, tossing crazy theories
around in my head. Maybe Master Jameson had a twin who wasn’t a fanatic who hated
vampires. No. The video didn’t lie. Only the Alchemists did.

I couldn’t ignore this. I couldn’t wait. I needed to resolve this immediately. If
not sooner.

I sent Marcus a text as soon as my plane was on the ground:
We meet tonight. No games. No runaround. TONIGHT.

There was no response from him by the time I got back to my dorm. What was he doing?
Reading
Catcher in the Rye
again? If I’d known what dive he was holed up in, I would’ve marched over there right
then. There was nothing I could do but wait, so I called Ms. Terwilliger both as a
distraction and to buy some freedom.

“Nothing to report,” she told me when she answered. “We’re still just watching and
waiting—although, your extra charm is almost complete.”

“That’s not why I’m calling,” I said. “I need you to get me a curfew extension tonight.”
I felt bad using her for something totally unrelated, but I had to do this.

“Oh? Are you paying me an unexpected visit?”

“Er—no. This is for something else.”

She clearly thought that was funny. “Now you use my assistance for personal matters?”

“Don’t you think I’ve earned it?” I countered.

She laughed, something I hadn’t heard from her in a while. She agreed to my request
and promised to call the dorm’s front desk right away. As soon as we hung up, my phone
chimed with the expected message from Marcus. All the text contained was an address
that was a half hour away. Assuming he was ready for me now, I grabbed my messenger
bag and got on the road.

In light of my past meetings with Marcus, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d led
me to a department store or karaoke bar. Instead, I arrived at a vintage music shop,
the kind that sold vinyl records. A large C
LOSED
sign hung on the door, emphasized by dark windows and an empty parking lot. I got
out of my car and double-checked the address, wondering if my GPS had led me astray.
My earlier zeal gave way to nervousness. How careless was this? One of Wolfe’s first
lessons was to avoid sketchy situations, yet here I was, exposing myself.

Then, from the shadows, I heard my name whispered. I turned toward the sound and saw
Sabrina materialize out of the darkness, carrying a gun as usual. Maybe if I showed
her the one in my glove compartment, we could have a bonding moment.

“Go around back,” she said. “Knock on the door.” Without another word, she returned
to the shadows.

The back of the building looked like the kind of place that screamed mugging, and
I wondered if Sabrina would come to my aid if needed. I knocked on the door, half
expecting some kind of speakeasy situation where I’d be asked for a password like
“rusted iguana.” Instead, Marcus opened the door, ready with one of those smiles he
kept hoping would win me over. Strangely, tonight it put me at ease.

“Hey, gorgeous, come on in.”

I stepped past him and found we were in the store’s back room, which was filled with
tables, shelves, and boxes of records and cassette tapes. Wade and Amelia stood against
a wall in mirrored stances, their arms crossed over their chests.

Marcus shut the door behind me and locked it. “Glad to see you back in one piece.
Judging from your text—and your face—you found something.”

All the rage I’d been holding in since my discovery came bursting out. I retrieved
my laptop from my bag and had to resist the urge to slam it against a table. “Yes!
I can’t believe it. You were right. Your insane, far-fetched theory was right. The
Alchemists have been lying! Or, well, some of them. I don’t know. Half of them don’t
know what the other half’s doing.”

I expected some smug remark from Marcus or at least an “I told you so.” But that handsome
face was drawn and sad, reminding me of the picture I’d seen of him and Clarence.
“Damn,” he said softly. “I was kind of hoping you’d come back with a bunch of boring
video. Amelia, go swap with Sabrina. I want her to see this.”

Amelia looked disappointed to be sent away, but she didn’t hesitate to obey his order.
By the time Sabrina came back in, I had the video cued up to the correct time. They
gathered around me. “Ready?” I asked. They nodded, and I could see a mix of emotions
in all of them. Here it was, the conspiracy theory they’d all been waiting to prove.
At the same time, the implications were staggering, and the three of them were well
aware of how dangerous what they were about to see could be.

I played the video. It was only a few seconds long, but they were powerful ones as
that bearded figure appeared on the screen. I heard an intake of breath from Sabrina.

“It’s him. Master Jameson.” She looked between all our faces. “That’s really the Alchemist
place? He’s really there?”

“Yes,” said Wade. “And that’s Dale Hawthorne with him, one of the directors.”

That triggered a memory. “I know that name. He’s one of Stanton’s peers, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“Is it possible she wouldn’t know about a visit like this?” I asked. “Even at her
level?”

It was Marcus who answered. “Maybe. Although, walking him right in there—even to the
secure level—is pretty ballsy. Even if she doesn’t know about the meeting, it’s a
safe bet others do. If it were completely shady, Hawthorne would’ve met him off-site.
Of course, the secure list means this wasn’t out in the open either.”

So, it was possible Stanton hadn’t lied to me—well, at least not about the Alchemists
being in contact with the Warriors. She’d certainly lied about the Alchemists knowing
about Marcus since he’d said he was a notorious figure to most higher-ups. Even if
she was ignorant about Master Jameson, it didn’t change the fact that other Alchemists—important
ones—were keeping some dangerous company. Maybe I didn’t always like their procedures,
but I’d desperately wanted to believe they were doing good in the world. Maybe they
were. Maybe they weren’t. I just didn’t know anymore.

When I dragged my eyes from the frozen frame of Master Jameson, I found Marcus watching
me. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“Ready for what?”

He walked over to another table and returned with a small case. When he opened it,
I saw a small vial of silver liquid and a syringe.

“What is—oh.” Realization hit me. “That’s the blood that’ll break the tattoo.”

He nodded. “Pulling the elements out creates a reaction that turns it silver. It takes
a few years, but eventually, the gold in your skin will fade to silver too.”

All of them were looking at me expectantly, and I took a step back. “I don’t know
if I’m ready for this.”

“Why wait?” asked Marcus. He pointed at the laptop. “You’ve seen this. You know what
they’re capable of. Can you keep lying to yourself? Don’t you want to go forward with
your eyes open?”

“Well . . . yes, but I don’t know if I’m ready to have some strange substance injected
into me.”

Marcus filled the syringe with the silver liquid. “I can demonstrate on my tattoo
if it’ll make you feel better. It won’t hurt me, and you can see that there aren’t
any dire side effects.”

“We don’t know for sure that they’ve done anything to me,” I protested. He had a logical
argument, but I was still terrified of taking this step. I could feel my hands shaking.
“This could be a waste. There may be no group loyalty compulsion in me.”

“But you also don’t know for sure,” he countered. “And there’s always a
little
loyalty put in the initial tattoo. I mean, not enough to make you some slave robot,
but still. Wouldn’t you feel better knowing everything’s gone?”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the needle. “Will I feel any different?”

“No. Although you could walk up to someone on the street and start telling them about
vampires.” I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “Then you’d just get thrown into
a psych ward.”

Was I ready for this? Was I really going to take the next step into becoming part
of Marcus’s Merry Men? I’d passed his test—which he’d been right about. Clearly, this
group wasn’t useless. They had eyes on the Alchemists and the Warriors. They also
seemingly had the Moroi’s best interests at heart.

The Moroi—or, more specifically, Jill. I hadn’t forgotten Sabrina’s offhand remark
about the Warriors being interested in a missing girl. Who else could it be but Jill?
And did this Hawthorne guy have access to her location? Had he passed it on to Master
Jameson? And would this information put those around her at risk, like Adrian?

They were questions I didn’t have the answers to, but I had to uncover them.

“Okay,” I said. “Do it.”

Marcus didn’t waste any time. I think he was afraid I’d change my mind—which, perhaps,
was not an unfounded fear. I sat down in one of the chairs and tipped my head to the
side so that he’d have access to my cheek. Wade gently held my head with his hands.
“Just to make sure you stay still,” he told me apologetically.

Before Marcus started, I asked, “Where’d you learn to do this?”

His face had been solemn with the task ahead, but my question made him smile again.
“I’m not technically tattooing you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said.
I was actually worried about
a lot
of things. “These are just some small injections, just like being re-inked.”

“What about the process itself? How’d you find out about it?” It was probably a question
I should have asked before I sat down in this chair. But I hadn’t expected to be doing
this so soon—or suddenly.

“A Moroi friend of mine theorized about it. I volunteered to be a guinea pig, and
it worked.” He switched to business mode again and held up the needle. “Ready?”

I took a deep breath, feeling like I was standing on the edge of a precipice.

Time to jump.

“Go ahead.”

It hurt about as much as re-inking did, just a number of small pricks on my skin.
Uncomfortable, but not really painful. In truth, it wasn’t a long process, but it
felt like it took forever. All the while, I kept asking myself,
What are you doing? What are you doing?
At last, Marcus stepped back and regarded me with shining eyes. Sabrina and Wade
smiled too.

“There you go,” Marcus said. “Welcome to the ranks, Sydney.”

I took my compact out of my purse to check the tattoo. My skin was pink from the needle’s
piercing, but if this process continued to be like re-inking, that irritation would
fade soon. Otherwise, the lily looked unchanged.

I also didn’t feel that changed on the inside. I didn’t want to storm the Alchemist
facility and demand justice or anything like that. Taking him up on his dare to tell
an outsider about vampires was probably my best bet to see if my tattoo had been altered,
but I didn’t really feel like doing that either.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it,” Marcus said. “Once we get it sealed, you won’t have to worry about—”

“I’m not getting it sealed.”

All those smiles vanished.

Marcus looked confused, as though he might have misheard. “You have to. We’re going
to Mexico next weekend. Once that’s done, the Alchemists won’t ever be able to get
to you again.”

“I’m not getting it sealed,” I repeated. “And I’m not going to Mexico.” I gestured
toward my laptop. “Look what I was able to pull off! If I stay where I’m at, I can
keep finding out more. I can find out what else the Alchemists and Warriors are doing
together.”
I can find out if Jill is in danger.
“Getting permanently marked and becoming an outcast kills all those opportunities
for me. There’s no going back after that.”

I think Marcus almost always got his way, and this new development totally threw him
off. Wade took up the argument. “There’s no going back
now
. You’re leaving a trail of bread crumbs. Look at what you’ve done. You already made
inquiries about Marcus. Even if you haven’t gotten super-friendly with the Moroi,
the Alchemists still know you spend a lot of time with them. And one day, someone
may realize you were there when the data was stolen.”

“No one knows it was stolen,” I said promptly.

“You hope they don’t,” corrected Wade. “These little things are enough to raise red
flags. Keep doing more, and you’ll make it worse. They’ll finally notice you, and
that’s when it’ll be over.”

Marcus had recovered from his initial shock. “Exactly. Look, if you want to stay where
you’re at until we go to Mexico, that’s fine. Make your peace with it or whatever.
After that, you need to escape. We’ll keep working from the outside.”

“You can do whatever you want.” I began packing up my laptop. “I’m going to work from
the inside.”

Marcus caught hold of my arm. “You’re setting yourself up for a fall, Sydney!” he
said sternly. “You’re going to get caught.”

I pulled away from him. “I’ll be careful.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” said Sabrina, speaking up for the first time in a while.

“I’ll take that risk.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Unless you guys are going
to forcibly stop me?” None of them answered. “Then I’m going. I’m not afraid of the
Alchemists. Thank you for everything you’ve done. I really do appreciate it.”

“Thank you,” said Marcus at last. He shook his head at Wade, who looked like he wanted
to protest. “For getting the data. I honestly didn’t think you’d be able to pull it
off. I figured you’d return empty-handed, though I still would’ve broken the tattoo
for you.
A
for effort, you know. Instead, you just proved what I’d thought before: you’re remarkable.
We could really use you.”

“Well, you know how to get in touch with me.”

“And you know how to get in touch with us,” he said. “We’ll be here all week if you
change your mind.”

I opened the door. “I won’t. I’m not running away.”

Amelia called goodbye to me when I got into my car, oblivious to the fact that I’d
just defied her beloved leader. As I drove back to Amberwood, I was amazed at how
free I felt—and it had nothing to do with the tattoo. It was the knowledge that I
had defied everyone—the Alchemists, the Warriors, the Merry Men. I didn’t answer to
anyone, no matter the cause. I was my own person, able to take my own actions. It
wasn’t something I had a lot of experience with.