Joan reached out and took a cube of pineapple from Scathach s fingers and
popped it into her mouth. Scatty took me to Nicholas and Perenelle, she
continued. They gave me shelter, looked after me. I d been injured in the
escape and was weakened from months of captivity. But despite Nicholas s best
attention, I would have died if it had not been for Scatty. She reached over
and squeezed her friend s hand again, not seeming to notice the tears on her
cheeks.
Joan had lost a lot of blood, Scathach said. No matter what Nicholas or
Perenelle did, she was not getting any better. So Nicholas performed one of
the first-ever blood transfusions.
Whose blood Sophie started to ask, until she suddenly realized she knew
the answer. Your blood?
Scathach s vampire blood saved me. And kept me alive, too made me immortal.
Joan grinned. Sophie noted that her teeth were normal, not pointed like
Scatty s. Luckily, it has none of the vampire side effects. Though I am
vegetarian, she added. Have been for the last few centuries.
And you re married, Scathach said accusingly. When did that happen, and
how, and why wasn't I invited? she demanded, all in one breath.
We got married four years ago on Sunset Beach in Hawaii, at sunset, of
course. We looked everywhere for you when we decided, Joan said quickly. I
really wanted you there; I wanted you to be my maid of honor.
Scathach s green eyes narrowed, remembering. Four years ago I think I was in
Nepal chasing down a rogue Nee-gued. An abominable snowman, she added,
seeing Sophie s and Joan s blank looks.
We d no way of contacting you. Your cell wasn't working, and e-mails bounced
back saying your mailbox was full. Joan caught Scathach s hand. Come, I
have photos I can show you. The woman turned back to Sophie. You should eat
now. You need to replace the energy you've burned up. Drink plenty of
liquids. Water, fruit juices, but no caffeine no tea and no coffee, nothing
that s going to keep you awake. Once you've eaten, Francis will show you to
your rooms, where you can shower and rest. She slowly looked Sophie up and
down. I ll get you some clothes. You re about my size. And then later we ll
talk about your aura. Joan held up her left hand and spread her fingers. An
articulated metal glove sparkled into existence over her flesh. I ll show
you how to control it, how to shape it, make it into anything you wish. The
glove turned into a metal raptor's claw complete with curved talons before it
faded back to Joan s tanned flesh. Only her fingernails remained silver. She
leaned in and kissed Sophie quickly on each cheek. But first you must rest.
Now, she said, looking at Scathach, let me show you the photos.
The two women hurried from the kitchen, and Sophie made her way back down the
long room to where Saint-Germain was talking earnestly to her brother. Josh
handed her a plate piled high with fruit and bread. His own plate was heaped
with eggs and sausages. Sophie felt her stomach object at the sight and she
forced herself to look away. She nibbled on the fruit, listening to the
conversation.
No, I m human, I cannot Awaken your powers, Saint-Germain was saying as she
joined them. For that you need an Elder or one of the handful of Next
Generation who could do it. He smiled, showing his misshapen teeth. don't
worry, Nicholas will find someone to Awaken you.
Is there anyone here, in Paris, who could do it?
Saint-Germain took a moment to consider. Machiavelli would know someone, I m
sure. He knows everything. But I don't. He turned to Sophie, bowing
slightly. I understand you were lucky enough to be Awakened by the legendary
Hekate and then trained in the Magic of Air by my old teacher, the Witch of
Endor. He shook his head. How is the old witch? She never liked me, he
added.
Still doesn t, Sophie said quickly, then blushed. I m sorry. I don't know
why I said that.
The Count laughed. Oh, Sophie, you didn't say it well, not really. The Witch
did. It s going to take some time for you to sort through her memories. I got
a call from her this morning. She told me how she imbued you not only with
the Magic of Air, but with her entire body of knowledge. The mummy technique
hasn t been used in living memory; it is incredibly dangerous.
Sophie glanced quickly at her brother. He was watching Saint-Germain
carefully, listening to every word. She noted the tension in his neck and jaw
from how he was squeezing his mouth shut.
You should have rested for at least twenty-four hours to allow your
conscious and subconscious time to sort through the sudden influx of alien
memories, thoughts and ideas.
There wasn't time, Sophie muttered.
Well, there is now. Eat up; then I ll show you to your rooms. Sleep as long
as you like. You re completely safe. No one even knows you re here.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
T hey re in Saint-Germain s town house off the Champs-Elys es. Machiavelli
pressed the phone to his ear and leaned back in the black leather chair,
swiveling to look through the tall window. In the distance, across the
slanted tile rooftops, he could make out the tip of the Eiffel Tower. The
fireworks had finally stopped, but a pall of rainbow-colored clouds still
hung in the air. don't worry, Doctor, we have the house under observation.
Saint-Germain, Scathach and the twins are inside. There are no other
occupants.
Machiavelli held the phone away from his ear as static rippled and crackled.
Dee s jet was just taking off from a small private airfield north of L.A. It
would stop in New York to refuel, then fly transatlantic to Shannon in
Ireland and refuel again before continuing on to Paris. The crackling faded
and Dee s voice, strong and clear, came through the phone.
And the Alchemyst?
Lost in Paris. My men had him on the ground at gunpoint, but he somehow
coated them in sugar and then unleashed every ant in the city onto them. They
panicked; he escaped.
Transmutation, Dee remarked. Water is composed of two parts hydrogen and
one part oxygen: sucrose has the same ratio. He changed the water into sugar;
it s a parlor trick I would have expected more of him.
Machiavelli ran his hand across his short snow white hair. I though it was
rather clever myself, he said mildly. He hospitalized six police officers.
He will return to the twins, Dee snapped. He needs them. He s been waiting
all his life to find them.
We ve all been waiting, Machiavelli reminded the Magician quietly. And
right now, we know where they are, which means we know where Flamel will go.
Do nothing until I get there, Dee commanded.
And have you any idea when that might Machiavelli began, but the line was
dead. He was unsure whether Dee had hung up or the call had dropped. Knowing
Dee, he guessed he d hung up; that was his usual style. The tall, elegant man
tapped the phone against his thin lips before replacing the handset. He had
no intention of following Dee s orders; he was going to capture Flamel and
the twins before Dee s plane touched down in Paris. He would do what Dee had
failed to do for centuries, and in return, the Elders would grant him
anything he desired.