“Anything?” Ari asked, returning to the guesthouse.
Zoe looked up from the computer and sighed. “A bunch of meaningless formulas. No notes. But I’ve got a long way to go.”
“So leave it for now. Let’s get to those packing boxes.”
Zoe and Ari tackled the dismantled lab with renewed energy, glad to be away from the guesthouse and the oppressive presence of the wizard’s body. They sat on the floor with boxes and contents scattered around them. For the first hour they worked in assembly; one person opened and sorted, the other repacked. So far, they’d found nothing more exciting than petri dishes, glass slides, small bottles of liquid chemicals, and sterile gloves, which they started using immediately. It would be awkward if they had to explain to local cops how their fingerprints got inside the boxes. Other containers held microscopes, vials for blood, and an assortment of measuring equipment and stirrers.
Ari’s hands were hot and sticky. She ripped off the gloves and reached for a fresh pair.
“How many more boxes?” Zoe asked wearily.
Ari glanced over her shoulder. “Looks like eight. It’s taken longer than I thought. Unpacking and repacking. But we’re almost done. Let’s divide the rest.”
Zoe brushed a sweaty lock of hair to one side of her forehead. “I’m ready to get out of here.” She sneezed. “Don’t you wish we could snap our fingers and be done? The boxes would unpack and repack themselves?”
Ari shot her a quick smile and wiggled her nose. Myths and movies.
Zoe regarded the boxes with a dubious eye. “We still need to wipe down any evidence of our search. And get you out of here before I can call the police.”
Ari was grateful Zoe had suggested over lunch that Ari’s visit remain secret. It would save her a lot of time and questions. “I’ve tried to be careful, so they shouldn’t find any unexplained prints.”
“Not sure they’d care you were here, but it would complicate things. I’ll just say you called from the States and asked me to interview Dubrey.”
Their hands bumped as they reached for the next box. Ari grinned, handed it over, and took the next in line. Six more to go.
“Ari, look!” Zoe’s voice was excited. “Notebooks. At last. Here, take some.” She shoved two black journals at Ari.
Ari flipped the first one open. A small, spidery scrawl, sometimes drifting into uneven printing, filled the pages. Many words were technical; other cryptic entries appeared to be in a form of speed-writing, but enough was in standard English that Ari picked out the general meaning. The references to herbs and potions confirmed her conclusion. Dubrey’s work notes. But the book she held was dated more than ten years earlier.
“See if there are more recent dates. This is too old.”
“Nothing here.” Zoe’s voice had lost enthusiasm, and she dropped the journals back in the box. “Don’t see anything from recent years.”
Ari ripped open the box she had just set aside and dumped the contents. More journals. Two years ago. That was better. Last year. May and June of this year. Aha! They were in business.
Heart pounding, Ari scanned the wizard’s notes. After a moment, she scrunched her forehead and passed the book to Zoe.
“Can you read this? Why couldn’t he use simple English?” Ari complained.
Dubrey’s abbreviated writing and technical language made the process difficult, but gradually they put it together—enough to realize the secrets about Fantasy were in their hands. The long years of research, hoping to combine magic and science into magical cures. The early deaths of local lycanthropes and vampires who had been purchased as test subjects from unscrupulous Otherworld leaders. Sold like slaves. Dubrey’s original goals might have been worthy, improving modern medicine, but he’d always been an evil man.
They repacked everything except the most recent notebooks and took those back to the guest house. Zoe accessed the Internet, searching for a key to decipher the abbreviations. If they could read the full notes, maybe they’d confirm the goal of the recent experiments. Dubrey wasn’t motivated by money. But having total control over a vampire? Ari thought that was something that would intrigue him.
After forty-five minutes of muttering at the computer, Zoe slapped her hands on her knees. “I can’t find a thing. This shorthand must be his own invention. Maybe somebody in your FBI could do it.”
After noting Zoe’s growing frustration, Ari wasn’t surprised by her lack of progress, but calling in the FBI was out of the question. “Listen, Zoe, we can’t turn this stuff over to any human authorities, here or in the States. What if the latest formulas got into the wrong hands…?”
“I know. That FBI comment just popped out.” Zoe rose from the desk. “It already occurred to me that we can’t trust humanity to protect it. I’ll contact my Magic Council, tell them everything. They’ll know what to do.”
Ari nodded in relief, satisfied they were on the same page. “Good idea.” She picked up the newest of the journals. “Let’s take these with us, just to be safe. You can hand them directly to the Council.” Ari hesitated. “But I need a favor.”
Zoe cocked her head. “Name it. And I’ll see what I can do.”
“The broken thumb drive.”
Zoe pulled it from her pocket, turning it over in her fingers. “What about it?”
“Forget you saw it.” Ari stuck out her hand. “Maybe it’s useless, but my PD’s cyber crimes guy is very good. And I trust him.”
Zoe tossed it into Ari’s outstretched palm. “What thumb drive?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was dusk by the time Zoe and Ari made their way down the overgrown drive. Zoe carried a box of journals. Ari hurried to push back the encroaching branches. She sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. It felt stuffy from dust. A shower would be good. She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to get away from the overwhelming gloom of the decaying mansion and the dead body. As they reached the last bushes, Otherworld energy set Ari’s witch blood racing. She stopped so abruptly that Zoe bumped into her back, pushing them through the brush and spilling the journals on the ground. Recovering quickly, she stared at the two vampires leaning on the hood of Zoe’s car. Ari wiggled her fingers at Zoe and stepped forward, away from the precious notebooks.
The vampires straightened, watching them with cold eyes. The burly, dark-skinned bruiser with silver chains on his vest kept his arms crossed in a show of male dominance. The older vamp, a Caucasian with every visible inch of skin covered in tattoos, grinned, showing his fangs.
“You know these guys?” Ari asked, making no attempt to lower her voice.
Zoe took the cue. “Sebastian’s goons. Get away from my car,” she said, stopping in front of the guy with the chains.
He didn’t move.
“Sebastian sent us to get you,” said his tattooed partner, staring at Ari. He sounded tough. He looked tough.
Ari turned her head to Zoe, pretending ignorance. “Who’s Sebastian?”
“Local vampire prince. Not a very friendly dude.”
Heeding Andreas’s warning, Ari shook her head. “Sorry, guys, no time for a visit today.”
“Make time.” The guy with the tattoos, obviously the spokesman, flexed his shoulder muscles. “Sebastian wants to see you.”
“About what? I have a plane to catch. The airlines don’t wait.”
“Neither does Sebastian.” His tone was surly now, and he ignored her question.
Ari debated what to do. She was pretty sure she and Zoe could take them, but she hated to start trouble she couldn’t finish. When Ari was safely in the States, what trouble would Zoe have with Sebastian’s court? Besides, Ari couldn’t help but wonder why Sebastian wanted to see them, or how he’d known to find them at Dubrey’s estate.
She tapped her watch. “My plane leaves in two hours and fifty minutes. I intend to be on it. Until then, I might be willing to chat, if we can be quick about it.”
“Are you sure about this?” Zoe had dropped her voice, making Ari wonder how often Zoe dealt with vampires and their superior hearing.
Ari shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do between now and then. And Prince Daron would want me to pay respects on his behalf.”
She wasn’t ignoring Andreas’s warning, but there was something to learn here. No matter what Andreas said, she couldn’t let the opportunity get away. So what if Sebastian and Daron weren’t friends? How big a deal could that be?
The vamps reached for Zoe’s car doors.
“Hey, guys. This isn’t a done deal yet. I need your boss’s assurance I’ll make my flight.” Ari crossed her arms. She wanted Sebastian’s agreement, but she was also stalling for time. Time and an opportunity to get the notebooks out of sight.
The vampires looked at her as if uncertain what to do next.
“Well, call him,” she said.
“You don’t call Sebastian.” The dark-skinned vamp blurted the words.
“Why not? Doesn’t he have a phone?”
“’Course he has a phone.” The guy with the tattoos again.
“Then call him or give me the number. I’ll talk to him.”
Still looking uncomfortable, the tattooed guy pulled out a cell phone and walked several yards away, motioning for his buddy to join him.
Ari turned to Zoe, pointed to the notebooks and then the trunk. Zoe nodded. Hoping the vampires were too busy to pay close attention, Ari whispered, “This is your opportunity to bail. You don’t have to come unless they insist. I’ll take care of this. If we split up, you’d be available to mount a rescue.”
“That was a very nice try, Ari, but forget it. I’m sticking. Can’t let you have all the fun.”
“That's fine. But remember that I offered.” Ari gave her a brief grin. “Now tell me about your badass prince.”
While they picked up the notebooks and filled the trunk, the vamps watched from a distance, absorbed in their phone conversation.