“Oh,” remarked Marcus. There was a dry smile on his face I couldn’t fully interpret. “I’ve got something that might help with that. Did you know the Warriors are buying enchanted vampire blood from rogue Alchemists?”

I thought back to what I’d overheard at the compound. “I did, actually. I was going to see if you could find anything on the laptop about it—I take it you did. Is Keith the one doing it again?”

“No,” said Marcus, turning the screen toward me. “Here’s a list.”

I read it. “I see.”

“Yup. I bet the Alchemists would be interested in that—and a number of other Warrior and Alchemist interactions that have been going on.”

I agreed with him, but before I could respond, my phone rang, showing Adrian’s number. “Hang on.” I answered, relief surging through me. “Adrian, are you okay?”

He chuckled on the other end of the line. “Of course you’d ask that. You’re the one who just went undercover with the Warriors, not me.” He paused. “You are back from that, right?”

“I am, and we got what we needed—kind of. We have all sorts of details about where they’re holding Jill, just not the actual geographical location.”

There was a long pause. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said. “That was about the only thing we got from Alicia. It’s in St. George. But we couldn’t get any other info from her about the setup—not without, ah, extra force. She insinuated that there might be some obstacles there.”

“St. George,” I repeated. I wanted to sink to the ground in relief. “That’s it. The last piece. We’ve got the rest—the layout, whatever obstacles she meant. Now we’ve just got to get everyone mobilized—only we’ve got three days to do it.”

“Why three days?”

“Because they plan on killing her then, just like they were planning with Sonya. It was an arrangement they had for holding her for Alicia while she played her game with me.”

More silence, but I could sense the shift in Adrian’s tone. “Three days.” I knew how hard it had to be for him. The thought of her trapped and undergoing torture was eating me up, and I didn’t have nearly the bond he did with her.

“We’ll get her,” I said. “Don’t worry. Now that we have all this, I’ll make the Alchemists help. You contact the guardians—see if Rose and Dimitri can organize that. And check on Declan while you’re at it—”

“I have,” he interrupted. “Checked on Declan, I mean. I think I’m driving my mom crazy with all my calls. They’re fine. But Sydney . . . I told Neil.”

My mind was spinning with plans for Jill, so that news drew me up short. “About Declan? What’d he say?”

“He’s afraid to be around Declan. I mean, not afraid of Declan himself, but afraid that someone will string the truth about Declan’s history together.”

“But he’s his father,” I said lamely. “He has to be with him.”

Adrian sighed. “That’s what I told him! But Neil keeps arguing that some spirit user might see they’re related or that even a layperson might notice plain old physical resemblance and start asking questions. He says we can’t show any sign that they have a connection or inspire anyone to do a genetic test—and he insists that that involves him keeping his distance. He offered to do everything in his power to help Declan otherwise. I swear, I think he’d rob a bank if he needed to.”

My head reeled. “We’ll talk him out of it. He’s probably just in shock. Once he hears reason, he’ll understand.”

We disconnected, and I hoped my words were true. It made my heart ache that Neil would want to make such a sacrifice, even if—logically—I could understand what might make him think that way. But still. How could he deprive Declan of a father when he already had lost a mother? And what would become of Declan then?

Those were troubling questions for later. For now, I had to get things in motion with the Alchemists. I had Eddie drive me to the other side of Palm Springs, to a pay phone at a remote gas station. Tracking cell phones wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t beyond the Alchemists, and I wouldn’t take any chances. Picking up the phone, I steeled myself to dial a number I hadn’t called in a very long time but still had memorized. I just hoped I’d get an answer.

“Stanton here,” came the familiar voice.

“Hello, Stanton. This is Sydney Ivashkov.”

Silence met me, possibly from astonishment or initiating a track on the call. Maybe both.

“Hello, Sydney,” she said at last. “Isn’t this a pleasant surprise? I can’t say I expected to hear from you.”

“The pleasure’s all yours, and I’m not repeating any of this, so listen closely. The Moroi need Alchemist backup to rescue Jill Dragomir from the Warriors of Light. I’m sure you’ve heard this from Queen Vasilisa.”

“Yes,” she replied. “And I’m sure you’ve heard that our superiors have chosen not to participate, seeing as there’s only been circumstantial proof the Warriors took the girl.”

“Well, we’ve got evidence now, so you’re going to convince them to participate,” I said. “And if you do, I’ll give you the names of four Alchemists who are selling charmed Moroi blood to the Warriors to make more of those strength-enhancing tattoos. In fact, I’ll give you two of those names now: Edward Hill and Callie DiMaggio. Go investigate them. You’ve got one hour, at which point I’ll call again—from another number, so don’t bother staking out this one—and then you’re going to tell me about how you’ll be sending that backup to St. George, Utah, within the next twenty-four hours to help the Moroi rescue Jill. If she’s rescued safely, I’ll give you the other names. Talk to you then.”