The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3)(88)

I must have worn an appropriately awed expression because when I turned to Ian, he was watching me with pride. "Pretty cool, huh?" Apparently being a glorified librarian had just become a much more exciting job for him. "Follow me."

He didn't have to tell me twice. We began by exploring the full extent of the archives room, which stretched back much farther than I initially realized. The Alchemists prized knowledge, and it was obvious from this collection, which dated back centuries. I lingered at the shelves, wanting to read every title. They came in different languages and covered a full range of topics useful to our trade: chemistry, history, mythology, the supernatural . . . it was dizzying.

"How do you organize it?" I asked. "How can you find anything?"

Ian pointed to small placards on the shelves that I hadn't noticed. They bore alphanumeric codes that were part of no filing system I recognized. "These catalog it all. And here's the directory."

He led me to a touch screen panel embedded in the wall. I pressed it and was presented with a menu of options: AUTHOR, TIME PERIOD, SUBJECT, LANGUAGE. I touched SUBJECT and was led through a series of more and more specific topics until I finally realized I'd been searching for "Magic" in the supernatural section. It gave me a list of titles, each with its own code in the organizational system.

To my surprise, there were actually a number of books on magic, and I burned with curiosity. Did the Alchemists have records of witches? Or was it all speculation? Most likely these were moral books preaching the wrongness of humans even considering such feats.

"Can I browse some of the books?" I asked him. "I mean, I know I can't sit and read all afternoon, but there's so much history . . . I just kind of want to be a part of it. I'd be so, so grateful."

I really didn't think that would work twice, but it did.

"Okay." He pointed toward a small office in the back. "I need to catch up on a few things. Do you want to meet back here in an hour?"

I thanked him profusely and then returned to the touch screen. I yearned to investigate the magic books but had to remind myself why I was here. As long as I was in the archives, I might as well do some research that would help our cause. I flipped through the menus until I located the section on the Alchemists' early history. I'd hoped to find a reference to vampire hunters in general or the Warriors specifically. No luck. The best I could do was follow the codes to shelves and shelves detailing our group's formation. Most of the books were dense and written in an antiquated style. The really old ones weren't even in English.

I skimmed a few and soon realized a task like this would take longer than an hour. The newer books had no mention of the Warriors, which didn't surprise me, seeing as that information was now covered up. If I was going to locate any references to vampire hunters, it would be in the oldest books. They didn't have much in the way of tables of contents or indices, and there was no way I could do a full read. Remembering my real mission here, I put the books away after about ten minutes and sought out Ian. That earlier tension returned, and I began to sweat.

"Hey, is there a restroom in here?"

I prayed there wasn't. I'd seen one down the hall when we'd come to this level. Part of my plan depended on getting out of the archives.

"Down the hall, by the stairs," he said. Some work issue had required his attention, and if my luck held, it would keep his eyes off the clock. "Knock on the door when you get back. I'll tell the scribes to let you in."

I'd had a knot of anxiety in my stomach all day that I'd been trying to ignore. Now there was no getting around it. It was time for the unthinkable.

Subtlety had no role in Alchemist security. The hallway contained cameras at each end. They faced each other, providing a long, continuous shot of the corridor. The restrooms were located at one end of the hall, almost directly under a camera. I went inside the ladies' room and verified there were no other people - or cameras - within. At least the Alchemists allowed some privacy.

Casting the invisibility spell was easy. Getting out was a little more difficult. The cameras' position made me think the restroom door was too flush with the wall for either camera to really get a good look at it. The door opened inward, so I was able to slip out and feel confident no camera had picked up a ghostly door opening. The door to the stairs was the real beast. It was in the range of one of the cameras. Ms. Terwilliger had told me the invisibility spell would protect me from video and film. So, I had no fear of being spotted. I simply had to take the risk of the camera recording the door opening by itself.

Although I knew security guards watched live feeds of the cameras, there were too many for them to scrutinize every second. If no sudden movement appeared on this one, I doubted any guard would notice. And if things stayed tame on this level, no one would have any reason to review the footage. But the operations level . . . well, if everything went according to plan, this sleepy Sunday was about to get a lot more exciting there.

I slipped in and out of the stairwell, opening the door with absolutely as little space as possible. The operations level was even more secure than the archives, with heavy, industrial-looking doors that required both key cards and codes. I had no illusions about cracking any of it. Entry into the security office, much like the rest of this task, relied on an odd mix of logic and luck. The one thing you could count on with Alchemists was reliability. I knew how schedules tended to work. Lunch breaks were taken on the hour at typical lunch times: eleven, twelve, and one. This was why I'd asked Ian to schedule our visit to this time, when I could be relatively certain workers would be moving in and out of the room. Noon was five minutes away, and I crossed my fingers someone would exit soon.