The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3)(46)

I eyed him warily. "Go on."

"Please, hear us out."

"I thought I just did."

"You heard me out," he corrected. "I want you to meet the others and hear their stories. They'll tell you more about what they went through. They'll tell you about this." He tapped his tattoo. "And when you hear more about that task . . . well, I think you'll want to do it."

"Right. The big, mind-blowing thing that's going to unveil an Alchemist-Warrior conspiracy." He remained serious, which bothered me more than if he'd suddenly revealed this to be one big joke. "So, what? You're going to get the others, and we'll all have an arcade day?"

He shook his head. "Too dangerous. I'll gather them in some other place and then tell you where to meet us, but it's got to be last minute again. Can't risk detection."

"I can't go on some epic road trip," I warned. "No one cares much about LA trips, but traipsing all over the state is going to get that unwanted attention you were talking about."

"I know, I know. It'll be close. I just have to make sure it's secure." He was back to his excited, cheery self. "Will you do it? Come join us?"

In spite of myself, I was curious. Even though I refused to believe in any connection between the Warriors and the Alchemists, I wanted to find out what leads this group thought they had. I also just wanted to see this mysterious group of his, period. What had Adrian called them? Marcus's Merry Men? And, of course, there was the tattoo. Marcus kept alluding to its secrets but still hadn't given me the details.

"I'll do it," I said at last. "On one condition."

"Name it."

"I want to bring someone with me," I said. "You can trust him, I swear. But after Sabrina pulled a gun on me, you have to understand why I'd be a little nervous about walking into your clique."

Marcus looked like he might almost consider it but then suddenly recoiled. "Not Adrian?"

"No, no. This guy's a dhampir. No one who'd be interested in turning you over to the Alchemists, especially if you really are working to protect Moroi. You say you've got a good feeling about me? Then trust me that you have nothing to worry about with him. He'd just be there to make me feel a little safer."

"You have nothing to worry about with us," Marcus said. "We won't hurt you."

"I want to believe you. But I don't quite have that same good feeling you have yet."

He didn't say anything right away and then burst into laughter. "Fair enough. Bring your friend." He shook my hand, as though we were sealing some great bargain. "I'll be in touch later with the details. You won't regret it, Sydney. I swear it."



MARCUS DISAPPEARED TO WHEREVER it was he was hiding out, and I drove home. What he'd said to me still seemed outlandish. I kept telling myself none of it could be true. It made things a lot easier to handle.

Back at Amberwood, I found the usual buzz of evening student activity. It felt comforting after my shocking outing, far removed from fanatics and cryptic spells. My phone buzzed with a text message the minute I stepped into my dorm room. It was from Jill: Come see us when you're back. I sighed. No rest for the wicked, it would seem. I left my purse in my room and then trudged down to the second floor, unsure of what I'd find.

Jill opened her door, looking immensely relieved to see me. "Thank God. We have a situation."

"We always have a situation," I said. I stepped inside and saw Angeline sitting on the floor, back against the wall and a miserable expression on her face. "What happened?"

She looked up quickly. "It wasn't my fault."

The sinking feeling in my stomach increased. "It never is, is it? I repeat: what happened?"

When Angeline refused to say, Jill spoke up. "She gave Trey a concussion with an algebra book."

Before I could even start to parse that, Angeline leapt to her feet. "The doctor said it wasn't a concussion!"

"Wait." I glanced between them, half hoping they'd burst into laughter at the joke they must be playing on me. "You did something to Trey that actually required medical attention?"

"I barely touched him," she insisted.

I sat down on Jill's bed and resisted the urge to crawl under its covers. "No. You can't do this. Not again. What did the principal say? Oh, God. Where are we going to send you?" After Angeline's brawl with a motivational group, it had been made very clear that further fighting would get her expelled.

"Eddie took the blame," said Jill. A small smile crossed her face as she spoke. "There weren't really many witnesses, so Eddie said they were playing around in the library and tossing the book back and forth. He claimed he got careless and threw the book too hard . . . and that it accidentally hit Trey on the head."

Angeline nodded. "That's kind of what really happened with us."

"No, it wasn't," protested Jill. "I saw it. You got mad when Trey told you it shouldn't be that hard to understand that x always has a different value."

"He implied that I was stupid!"

Variables didn't seem like too hard a concept to me, but I could tell under Angeline's bravado that she really was flustered. I always had the impression that back among the Keepers, Angeline had been a queen among her peers. Here she was constantly trying to keep up academically and socially adrift in a world very different from the one she'd grown up in. That would make anyone insecure. And while I questioned if Trey had ever said she was stupid, I could understand how some of his snarky commentary could be perceived that way.