“And how are you finding married life?” Mallory asked from her spot beside me on the second-row bench.
“At the moment?” I considered the question. “Treacherous.”
Mallory snorted. “Yeah, but in fairness, your dating life was pretty treacherous, too. That’s what you get for nabbing a Darth Sullivan.”
I glanced at her. “Has he told you his nickname for me?”
“Of course he has.”
I lifted my brows. “What do you mean ‘of course he has’? Fess up!”
“Oh no,” she said, picking a remaining bit of chipped polish off her nail. “I want no part of that. You’ll weasel it out of him eventually.”
I narrowed my gaze at her. “I could weasel it out of you.”
She grinned. “I seriously doubt it, vamp.”
; I walked to the table, looked at the simple stone bowl that sat there. There was a box of matches beside it, and a drying twig.
I lifted it, sniffed. Rosemary, and with the matches and crucible, probably a spot where Sorcha had performed alchemical magic. I looked up. The middle of the ceiling was marked by a large round medallion, its floral shapes covered in soot.
I put the rosemary down, walked back to Ethan. Alchemy, I said. This is her workroom.
He nodded, gaze tracking the writings and images.
There seemed to be a focus area centered on the wall across from the crucible. Green twine linked pages in other parts of the room back to the sheets here. But if there was a narrative here, or any kind of linear logic, I couldn’t see it.
Does this mean anything to you? he asked.
Not even a little. I’m guessing she’s working out magic, trying to figure out how to make connections between symbols or spells? But that’s my best guess.
Ethan nodded.
Maybe it will make more sense to Mallory, I said, and pulled out my phone, managed to snap one photograph when the alarm split the air, as sharp as a knife.
“Attention,” said the voice that rang through the house’s apparent intercom system. “Your illegal entry has been detected, and the authorities have been notified. Attention,” it said again, then repeated the message.
I guess they found the window, Ethan said.
Or saw our tracks in the snow.
Either way, he said with a wink, let’s make a graceful exit.
I nodded. I’m right behind you, I assured him. I darted to the center of the chaos, began ripping papers from the wall, shoving them into my open backpack. I wasn’t leaving empty-handed.
Then we moved into the hallway, clung to the shadows, and made our way out again.
• • •
Mallory was situated at the conference table in Ethan’s office when we returned, books, notebooks, soda cans, paper, and pens spread across the table. It wasn’t unlike the mess in Sorcha’s office, although it didn’t look quite as insane. And I didn’t have a single doubt about Mallory’s motives.
“We weren’t even gone for two hours,” Ethan said, gaze wide as he took in the chaos of his usually ordered office.
“Good witches work fast.” She looked up at me, gestured to the backpack. “What did you find?”
“Insanity,” Ethan said.
“Seriously,” I said, putting my backpack on the table. “It was A Beautiful Mind in there.” I gave her the details. “We didn’t find any computers, notebooks, whiteboards. No secret plans just lying around.” I unzipped the backpack, pulled out the papers I’d snatched from Sorcha’s office. “But I did grab these.”