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“How am I scarier than a one-eyed man?” I demanded, when we met up at Ms. Terwilliger’s place.

“At least he’s been doing tattoos for years. How many have you done?”

“None,” I said. “But I bet I know more about it than he does.”

One thing I did feel bad about, though, was that, unlike the salt ink, the blood ink had color. It was going to leave a mark. Since my understanding was that the two tattoos had to be done pretty much on top of each other, I had to do this one on top of the one Wolfe had done—which was in turn over Trey’s Warrior sun. My hope was that I could just trace the sun’s lines, but I didn’t know how skilled my hands would be.

“If I mess it up, I’ll pay for you to get it redone,” I assured him.

That mollified him, but as he lay down on the workbench, I heard him grumble, “Remind me why I agreed to do this.”

“Because I’m keeping Angeline away from other people. Although . . . I don’t suppose you want to, uh, go to a movie with her on Valentine’s Day. With all of us, that is.”

He groaned. “I’m supposed to stay away from her.”

“Well, you don’t have to sit by her. And it’s not like you’ll be alone.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said reluctantly.

I didn’t know if this movie plan would result in anything. I didn’t have much practice at matchmaking, but Trey and Angeline obviously weren’t having success getting over each other. And it occurred to me that if they started going out again, surely he’d have to break his ties to the Warriors. Wouldn’t that be an accomplishment for the greater good? Or was I just complicating things?

Regardless, it was a problem for later. For now, my focus was on being an amateur tattooist—which I actually pulled off pretty well. I reinforced the sun design and didn’t stray from the lines too badly. Trey wanted to check it in a mirror, but before he could, I had to finish the spell. Earth compulsion charms could be time delayed, triggered by a certain event. Abe had put an urge to obey in the blood, but it didn’t have a specific focus. That was where I came in. Once the blood was delivered into the subject, the magic was unlocked and ready to be directed. Trey sat up, and I leaned forward, looking him in the eye.

In the Alchemist ritual, after the blood was delivered, a hierophant would give the new recruit a standard set of instructions: “Our words are your words, our goals are your goals, our beliefs are your beliefs.” I’d never thought much about those words. They had a ritualistic feel, and until recently, I hadn’t realized how literally the charm worked them into the person. After that, the hierophant would add, “Never shall you speak of the supernatural to those who aren’t part of it. You will guard its secrets.” That was about all the charm could handle. You couldn’t give infinite commands. The Moroi had enough hang-ups about compulsion that they’d give the blood only a low level of magic. Or, well, at least most Moroi would. Apparently, since some Alchemists were being programmed with stronger commands, there were Moroi willing to bend the rules and power up the blood.

I didn’t bother with any of that with Trey. All I needed to do was give him a command while the charm was active in the blood and ready to receive.

“You will not speak of your feelings for Angeline to anyone,” I told him sternly.

Trey met my gaze, and I saw his dark eyes start to glaze over in obeisance. My heart sank. I’d seen this in other Alchemists being tattooed. I’d experienced it myself. It was the compulsion taking hold. We’d failed. The magic was still able to work and—

He suddenly blinked rapidly, as though he were shaking off a dream. “Why not?” he asked.

“Why not what?”

“Why can’t I talk about Angeline?”

“Do you want to?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes.”

“You know, the other day at lunch, we were all talking about spring break plans, and she suddenly started going off about how meerkats aren’t cats at all and how zoologists should really rename them because it could cause a lot of trouble if someone took one home as a pet.” I eyed Trey carefully. “What do you think of that?”

His expression softened as a smile filled his face. “It cracks me up. No, I love it. I know this stuff sounds so crazy, but it’s just because everything is so new to her, you know? We take everything for granted, but when I’m with her, I see the world through new eyes. She makes my world better. It’s why she’s so great.” He suddenly snapped to attention. “Why do you have such a big grin on your face?”

“Because you’re talking about how you feel about Angeline.”

“So?” he asked suspiciously.

“I asked you not to.”

“You did?”

The door to the garage opened, and Adrian appeared. He’d had to stay on campus late and was only just now able to join us. “You still giving out tattoos, Sage? You up for my skeleton pirate?” He glanced between our faces. “What’s going on?”

I laughed and clasped my hands together in front of my chest. “It worked. The salt ink negated the other ink. It undid the compulsion! The human magic triumphed.”

Trey arched an eyebrow. “Do I really want to know the details here?”

I surprised him with a quick hug. “The details are that you just helped prove a major discovery. One that’s going to help a lot of people.”

He still looked understandably puzzled. “Just as long as you didn’t do any lasting damage.”

“You’re free and clear to go to the movie with us,” I said.

“We’re all friends, though,” said Trey quickly.

“Absolutely,” I said.

He had a shift soon and was able to talk to us only a little while longer. Once he was gone, I threw myself into Adrian’s arms and he spun me around.

“My brilliant girl,” he said. “You did it.”

I brushed my lips against his cheek. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Me? I’m not the one who conned her way into getting illicit ingredients, scored a test subject, and learned to use a tattoo machine in a week.”

“You were moral support,” I said. “The most important job of all. And now that I know it works, I’ve got to go make more ink for when Marcus shows up. Keep me company.”

Marcus had sent word to Adrian via Sabrina that he’d be in town next week. I’d been making extra ink whenever I could get a free moment and wasn’t going to waste this one. I had to give Marcus his best fighting chance. Ms. Terwilliger was working in her kitchen when we came back into the house. She waved and assured me I could use her workroom. Although she didn’t understand my project exactly, she had no problem sharing her space and letting me store things. Adrian had come by a number of times in the past, and like tonight, he sat near me and quietly did his own work while I did mine. It was warm and comfortable and almost normal.

“Isn’t it weird?” he said, glancing up as I measured salt. “All the variety that life offers? Here we sit, me reading expressions of creativity.” He held up the poetry book, which to my dismay, was now worn and dog-eared. “And you doing scientific and magical calculations. We’re thinking, cerebral beings one minute . . . and the next, completely given over to physical acts of passion. How do we do that? Back and forth, mind and body? How can creatures like us go from extreme to extreme?”

“Because that’s what we do,” I said, smiling. I was really glad the pills hadn’t muted philosopher Adrian. I loved listening to him go off on these flights of fancy. “And it’s not necessarily extreme. I mean, what we did yesterday at your place . . . well, maybe it was a ‘physical act of passion,’ but it was also very creative. Who says mind and body can’t work together?”