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The Ruby Circle

The Ruby Circle (Bloodlines #6)(6)
Author: Richelle Mead

“Will you finally let me take this?” insisted Eddie, pulling the carrier from her. She yielded it, allowing for a proper hug. The mingled scents of patchouli and nag champa surrounded her, reminding me of more carefree times, when she and I would huddle together to work on spells. I felt tears spring to my eyes and quickly stepped back to wipe them away.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I said, trying to become businesslike again. “Surprised, but glad. This couldn’t have been an easy trip for you.”

“What I have to say could only be said in person.” She pushed her glasses up her nose and surveyed the others in the room. “Neil, nice to see you again. And Adrian, I’m glad Sydney finally made an honest man of you.”

He grinned at that and introduced Daniella. She was polite but remained a little aloof. Moroi like her, who generally lived secluded lives at Court, didn’t have many human friends. The whole concept of magic-using humans was just as weird for Moroi as for Alchemists, but I had to give Daniella credit for trying to come to terms with it all. She might have terrible timing and not be able to take a hint during would-be romantic interludes, but I couldn’t deny that her life had also certainly undergone a lot of upheaval in the last year.

“Come in, come in,” I said, beckoning Ms. Terwilliger forward. We received so few guests that I’d nearly forgotten basic hospitality. “Sit down, and I’ll get you something to drink. Or eat?”

She shook her head as she went with me toward the kitchen. The others followed, except for Eddie, still awkwardly holding the carrier. “I’m fine,” she said. “And we may not have the time. As it is, I hope I’m not too late.”

Her words made the hairs on my neck rise, but before I could respond, Eddie cleared his throat and lifted the carrier, which I could now see held a cat. “Um, would you like me to do anything special with her?”

“Him,” corrected Ms. Terwilliger. “And Mr. Bojangles will be just fine waiting in there while we talk. Besides, if I’m correct, we’re going to need him.”

Adrian shot me a questioning look at that, but I could only shrug in response.

We all gathered around the kitchen table. I sat, and Adrian stood behind me, resting his hands on my shoulder. In my peripheral vision, the rubies and white gold of his wedding band glittered. Ms. Terwilliger took the spot opposite me and produced an ornate wooden box from her satchel. It was covered in a floral design that appeared to have been hand-carved. She set the box on the table’s surface and slid it over to me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” she said. “It arrived a few weeks ago, left on my doorstep. At first, I thought it was some sort of gift from Malachi—even though this isn’t his style.”

“Right,” agreed Adrian. “Grenades, camo vests . . . those are his usual gifts of choice.” Malachi Wolfe was a questionably stable self-defense instructor Adrian and I had taken classes with and who had inexplicably won Ms. Terwilliger’s heart.

She smiled briefly at Adrian’s comment but never took her eyes from the box as she continued. “I soon learned the box is magically sealed. I tried all sorts of unlocking spells, common and rare, with no luck. Whoever did this cast something extremely powerful. I spent the last few weeks exhausting my resources and finally took it to Inez. You remember her, of course?”

“She’s hard to forget,” I said, thinking back on the venerable and quirky old witch back in California who had decorated every single item in her house with roses.

“Indeed. She told me she had a powerful spell that could probably bust it open but I’d failed because this enchantment is keyed to a specific person.” Ms. Terwilliger looked chagrined. “I hadn’t detected that. Obviously, that person isn’t me. Inez speculated whoever the box was intended for would be able to open it with little difficulty, and from there, I concluded that you were the recipient.”

I started at that. “But why would they give it to you for me?”

Ms. Terwilliger glanced around with a wry look. “This isn’t exactly an easy address to deliver to. I just wish I’d learned this sooner. Hopefully, whatever’s inside isn’t time sensitive.”

I regarded the box in a new light, feeling myself fill with both eagerness and trepidation. “What should I do?”

“Open it,” said Ms. Terwilliger simply. “Although I’d advise the rest of you to step back.”

Daniella complied quickly, but Adrian and the dhampirs obstinately stayed put. “Do what she says,” I said.

“What if it’s a bomb?” demanded Eddie.

“I can most likely minimize any damage to Sydney but make no guarantees to the rest of you,” said Ms. Terwilliger.

“‘Most likely’?” asked Adrian. “Maybe this is the Alchemists’ way of finally getting to you.”

“Maybe, but they’re not fans of human magic. I can’t imagine they’d turn to it.” I sighed. “Please. Just move back. I’ll be fine.”

I didn’t know that for sure, but after a little more coaxing, the guys yielded. Ms. Terwilliger took out a small pouch and sprinkled a yellow, spicy-smelling powder on the table. She murmured a Greek incantation, and I felt magic—my kind of magic—burn in the air around us. It had been a very long time since I’d sensed it in another, and I was surprised at the rush it gave me. With the protective spell in place, she nodded encouragingly at me.

“Go ahead, Sydney. If just opening it doesn’t work, then try a basic unlocking spell.”

I rested my fingertips on the lid and took a deep breath. Nothing happened when I lifted it, but that was to be expected. Even if Ms. Terwilliger was right about this being intended for me, that didn’t mean it was going to be entirely easy. As I summoned the words of an unlocking spell, the obvious questions nagged at the edges of my mind: Was this really for me? If so, from whom? And most importantly, why?

I spoke the spell, and though the box didn’t change, we all heard a small pop sound. I tried the lid again, and this time it lifted easily. Even better, no bomb went off inside. After a moment of hesitation, the guys all crowded forward to see what the box held. Looking down, I saw some folded pieces of paper with a single hair on top. I lifted it carefully, holding it up to the light. It was blond.

“Probably yours,” said Ms. Terwilliger. “To key a spell like this to a specific person, you need something that’s part of the recipient. Hair. Nail. Skin.”

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