Midnight Marked

“Maybe I could help with that,” Jeff said.

“What are you thinking?” Catcher asked.

Jeff rubbed his temple absently. “Maybe I can align a program to the magic? So even if we can’t see the locations’ IRL, we can watch them on a screen? A three-dimensional map?”

IRL? Ethan asked silently.

In real life, I said. As opposed to the lighthearted fantasy we’re pretending to live in.

“Yeah,” Mallory said, nodding as she looked at Jeff and Catcher. “Yeah. That might actually work.”

Ethan looked at Mallory. “There’s no risk that this would harm you?”

His question was softly spoken. And it wasn’t about doubt or lack of confidence in her, the fear that she’d use dark magic again, backslide into the hole she’d only so recently crawled out of. There was only concern for a woman who’d been his enemy, and who’d gained back enough trust to become his friend.

“No,” she said, her voice calm and clear. And then she held out her hands.

Black magic, when she’d been using it, had chapped and cracked them. But they looked healthy and healed, each nail painted a different pastel shade, so they formed a long rainbow when she lined them up. Which made for a gorgeous effect.

“I wasn’t asking—” Ethan began, but Mallory shook her head.

“I know,” she said, meeting his gaze, chin up. “I was showing you. I owe you that much.”

Ethan’s expression stayed serious, and he nodded at her, something important, something weighty, passing between them. I had to bite my lip to keep quick, bright tears from welling. That he and I weren’t in sync right now didn’t minimize the importance of the gesture, especially given the similarity between Reed’s alchemy and Mallory’s dark magic.

Catcher put an arm around his wife, pressed a kiss to her head.

“Well, then,” Luc said. “That gives us a plan for the alchemy.”

“And Reed?” Scott asked, rocking back in his chair. “What’s the plan there?”

Ethan’s gaze went flat. “His destruction and expulsion from the city of Chicago.”

“So humble goals, then,” Scott said.

“He won’t stop,” Ethan said. “This isn’t a vendetta against me or my House. Reed doesn’t care about anything other than his empire. We’ve seen that with Cadogan, we’ve seen it with Navarre, and now we’ve seen it with the unfortunate shifter who crossed his path.”

“Then we won’t let him,” Morgan said, raising a bottle of water like a sword of allegiance. “It’s about damn time we took back this city.”

• • •

When details had been discussed and work assigned, supernaturals rose and dispersed. Some lingered and chatted; others left immediately.

Scott and Jonah were the first to go, which meant I didn’t have to make awkward small talk while avoiding the real issue between us. Morgan followed, and then the guards went back to the Ops Room, and Paige returned to the library.

I checked with Jeff again about the safe-deposit box key. Still no dice after checking nearly three-quarters of the city’s banks. Yes, it had been a long shot. We didn’t even know if the key fit a box in Chicago. But we had to keep trying, had to do the work, even if it didn’t seem to lead anywhere.

Margot brought in a care package for Mallory—a bag of junk food apparently intended to make up for the “kale and quinoa” at the Bell house. While Catcher and Ethan chatted, Mallory shuffled through the bag of chips, popcorn, and cookies Margot had prepared like a woman preparing to wage her own Hunger Games.

“You have an entire chocolate drawer,” I reminded her, thinking of the long bay of chocolate I’d collected when we were roommates.

“Had an entire chocolate drawer,” she said.

My blood ran cold. “What do you mean, ‘had’?”

“Quinoa,” Mallory said by way of explanation. “He took the rest of it to the Ombudsman’s office for the communal candy dish. It’s all chia seeds and whole grains in there now.”

“That bastard,” I gritted out. In truth, I had only myself to blame for losing all that lovely chocolate. I should have taken it all with me when I moved into the House.

She cast a sly glance toward her husband. “I need to go sneak this into the car. Wanna go on a secret mission?”

“Candy-related missions are my favorite type,” I said as she handed the loaded bag to me. I caught Ethan’s glance on the way out the door. I’ll be right back.

He nodded, slid his gaze back to Catcher.

With Mallory in the lead, car keys in hand and walking in a fast shuffle, we walked out of the House and through the gate. Catcher’s sedan was parked right in front of the House.

I glanced at her, my brow cocked. “How’d he get this prime spot?”

“Said we were on an urgent mission. Which the guards bought, because it was the absolute truth.”

“Did I mention I love your nail polish?” I asked.

“You did not, but thank you. Times like this, you gotta have a bright spot. You gotta have something to lighten the mood.” She shrugged. “Catcher’s homemade waffles and enormous dick usually do the trick. But a little paint and color never hurt.”

I had no idea how to respond to that. Or what I could say that wouldn’t encourage her to go into details. I decided on simple agreement. “Paint and color never hurt.”

She popped open the car’s trunk, moved aside a blanket, a spell book, and an enormous ceramic vessel the color of bone.

“Is that the crucible?” I asked, putting the bag in the trunk and smirking while she covered it with blankets.

“It is.” She tucked in the bag like it was precious cargo. “I think I’m going to distill something. Try to make a salt, which doesn’t really mean what you think it means.” She sighed happily. “Oh, alchemy. You’re so wonderfully wacky.”

She might have appreciated the alchemy, but she wasn’t nearly as careful with the ceramic crucible as she was with the bag of snacks.

“Mallory, you know I love you, but I wonder if going to this much trouble to keep some candy from Catcher is a bad plan.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him. I just need a new hiding place. I’m thinking a cabinet in the basement, but then the spiders might get in there.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to make light of this Reed situation, but honest to God, we have apocalypse-level spiders. Spiders big enough to operate motor vehicles. If the world ends, it will be because they’ve stolen tanks and challenged the president.”