“I have no idea—oh, there’s your husband.”
Stellan rested a hand on my lower back, and I did my best to gaze at him adoringly rather than tensing. Like I was simply catching him up on the conversation, I told him about the chalice idea. He made a joke to Zara about how he would be glad if they gave us wine to get through the ceremony, then said something in Japanese to Sakura, and she laughed and pointed. When it came to politics—and acting—I might be okay, but Stellan would always be better.
We said our good-byes, and he told me Sakura had pointed him toward Arjun Rajesh as someone who might know more about this chalice and what the ceremony was like. We were planning to speak with him anyway.
I glanced around for him, and found Jack’s eyes on us again. Jack and Elodie were both shadowing us closely—just in case—and were also part of our show. Since we’d rather have gossip about our scandalous little family on everyone’s minds than the fact that we were being especially nosy tonight, we were showing off Jack and Elodie. It was insolent and a little disrespectful of us, flaunting that we’d stolen the Saxons’ Keeper and the Dauphins’ house manager. And that now, against tradition, we were making them both our Keepers. It was exactly the kind of posturing a Circle family would do, so we did it.
I spotted Mr. Rajesh looking out over the city. His son, Dev, had been one of the Saxons’ first victims. The Rajesh family was kind in a way I didn’t expect from the Circle. Right after my mom died, Mrs. Rajesh had sent a giant care package of food. With Mr. Rajesh, we played close to our normal selves, with a side of sweet and dumb. “There’s some kind of chalice, I heard, that you do the ceremony with?” I asked after we’d greeted him.
“No, not a chalice,” he said. “I’ve heard that for this ceremony, they use a small box, almost a jewelry box.”
The master of ceremonies was the head of the Vasilyev family. He wasn’t here tonight, nor would he have been allowed to talk to us about the initiation if he were, but Stellan noticed his son across the party. We hadn’t expected him to be here. We whispered quickly about a strategy, and Stellan asked the questions in Russian. If we can be honest with you, he was going to say, we want to make sure nothing goes wrong during the ceremony. Obviously your family is trustworthy, but we know not all of them are. Have you heard anything from your father about items used during the ceremony, and could we inspect them beforehand to make sure there’s no wrongdoing afoot?
The man nodded sagely. Apparently some of the Vasilyev family were the Circle’s resident conspiracy theorists, so it wasn’t hard to convince him we were fellow skeptics. He glanced over his shoulder before he whispered something to Stellan.
When we left, Stellan pulled me onto the dance floor again. “We’re going to have to get into the Melechs’ private collection,” he murmured in my ear. “He says there is a box, and it was stored here since the first initiation ceremony was held in Jerusalem. He thinks it’s probably still here until tomorrow.”
That was both the best news we could ask for, and the worst. We might have a chance at finding it—but getting caught snooping around the Melechs would be very bad.
We danced past Jack and Elodie, and I could tell they were dying to know what we’d found out. “What if we ask the Melechs for a tour?” I said, my fingers brushing Stellan’s chest flirtatiously. “Jack and Elodie can come, too, and be extra eyes.”
“Smart,” he said, and I let him tuck my arm through his again.
The Melechs almost didn’t agree. I wanted to add a jab about how we were sure they’d want to cooperate with anything we wanted, to put to rest those nasty rumors that they condoned the Saxons’ actions, but luckily Stellan cut me off. He was right. We were playing a particular persona with the Melechs, too. They would never like us, but they’d let their guard down more if we could make them believe we were silly, spoiled kids joining the Circle for the parties and the private jets.
So while we saw the view from their formal dining room and heard how many guest rooms they had, I giggled, and hung on Stellan’s arm, and nuzzled his neck whenever I saw something that could be a ritual box that I thought we should take a second look at. And when the Melechs wanted to show us the greenhouse, I whined, “I want to see more pretty things. Do you have any . . . art?”
David Melech, as we’d hoped, had gone from wary to bored with our dumb questions. He looked at his phone and told Daniel and his wife to show us the museum wing, then left. I squeezed Stellan’s hand as Mrs. Melech gave us the fastest tour she could manage. We were about to leave, disappointed, when my eye caught on something. “What’s that?”
“Oh, that’s a replica of a sarcophagus. It’s one of the Circle’s oldest artifacts,” she said, a note of pride creeping into her voice. I squinted at the thing. It was a small box, the size of a jewelry box. “It’s used in rituals,” she finished, and I squeezed Stellan’s hand. “Can I show you the way back to the party?”
She led the way out the door. Stellan and I followed as slowly as we could, trying to communicate silently.
When Daniel looked back at us, I could see the suspicion in his eyes. His parents might have bought our act, but he thought we were up to something. He had all night.
I giggled again, pretending not to notice. Then I reached down very obviously and grabbed Stellan’s backside.
Stellan turned a surprised widening of his eyes into a saucy eyebrow raise so quickly, I was impressed. Daniel, as I’d hoped, had been watching every move, and averted his eyes in disgust. Stellan caught on to my plan, and when the Melechs turned around to see what was taking us so long, we’d slowed, my hands on his chest, him pulling me close to whisper in my ear as I blushed.
“We’ll find our own way back,” Stellan said dismissively, hardly looking up at them, like all we’d really wanted from this tour was a place to make out.
Mrs. Melech looked at Daniel, at her Keeper, and at Jack and Elodie. “I don’t know if—”