I watched him walk away for a few more seconds and then turned toward the science building. One of the teachers, Ms. Whittaker, was an amateur botanist who was always happy to supply Ms. Terwilliger with various plants and herbs. She thought Ms. Terwilliger used them for home craft projects, like potpourri and candles, and I frequently had to pick up the latest supplies. When I walked into her classroom today, Ms. Whittaker was grading exams at her desk.

"Hi, Sydney," she said, barely looking up. "I set it all over there, on the far counter."

"Thanks, ma'am."

I walked over and was surprised to practically find a spice cabinet. Ms. Terwilliger had requested all sorts of leaves, stems, and clippings. It was the most I'd ever had to pick up for her.

"She sure had a big order this time," Ms. Whittaker remarked, as though sensing my thoughts. "Is she really using garlic in potpourri?"

"Oh, that's for some, um, cooking she's doing. You know, holidays and all."

She nodded and returned to her work. One thing that often helped in Alchemist affairs (and witch ones) was that people rarely expected supernatural reasons for weird behaviors and phenomena.

I almost considered visiting Trey and Angeline at the library, just to assess her behavior myself, but decided it'd be better to not get involved. Eddie and Jill would handle it. With nothing else to do, I dared to hope I might actually just be able to stay inside and read today. But, when I returned to my dorm, I was greeted with the astonishing sight of Marcus sitting outside on a bench, playing an acoustic guitar. A group of four girls stood around, listening in awe. I walked up to the circle, my arms crossed over my chest.

"Really?" I asked.

Marcus glanced up and shot me a grin. One of the girls actually cooed.

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"Hey, Sydney."

Four sets of eyes turned to me, displaying a mix of both disbelief and jealousy. "Hey," I said. "You're the last person I expected to see here."

"I never do what's predictable." He tossed his hair back and started to put his guitar back in its case. "Sorry, girls. Sydney and I have to talk."

I got more of those stares, which kind of annoyed me. Was it really that unbelievable that a good-looking guy would want to talk to me? His followers dispersed reluctantly, and Marcus and I strolled around the grounds.

"Aren't you supposed to be in hiding?" I asked. "Not panhandling with your guitar?"

"I never asked them for money. Besides, I'm incognito today." He tapped his cheek, and I noticed the tattoo was barely noticeable.

"Are you wearing makeup?" I asked.

"Don't judge," he said. "It lets me move around more freely. Sabrina helped color match me."

We came to a halt in a relatively private copse of trees. "So why are you here? Why didn't you call or text?"

"Because I have a delivery." He reached into his shirt pocket and handed me a folded piece of paper that looked like it had traveled around the world before reaching me. When I opened it and managed to smooth it out, I saw several painstakingly drawn diagrams. I jerked my gaze back to him.

"Wade's floor plans."

"As promised." A little of that self-satisfaction faded, and he actually looked impressed. "You've really got a way to get to St. Louis?"

"Sanctioned and everything," I said. "I mean, aside from the part where I break into their servers. But I've got a few ideas on how to pull that off."

He laughed. "Of course you do. I won't bother asking. Every girl's got her secrets. Maybe someday you'll share yours." From the tone of his voice, he might have been talking about non-professional secrets. "Once this is all over."

"Is it ever over?" I asked. I meant it as a joke, but it came out sounding a bit more melancholy than I would've liked.

He gave me a long, level look. "No, not really. But getting the tattoo sealed in Mexico is kind of fun. I hope you'll go with us. At the very least, we can take in some beaches and margaritas while undoing insidious magic. Do you own a bikini?"

"No. And I don't drink."

"Well, maybe one of these days we could go out for coffee. I know you drink that."

"I'm pretty busy," I said, thinking of everything weighing on me. "And you know, I also haven't decided if I'm going to do the first phase of tattoo breaking."

"You should, Sydney." He was all business again and tapped my cheek. "If nothing else, do that. Don't let them have any more control over you than they have to. I know you think we're a little out there, but this is one thing we're absolutely serious about."

"Hi, Sydney."

I glanced over and saw my friend Julia Cavendish carrying a huge stack of books. A couple seconds later, Marcus looked up at her too. Her eyes went wide, and she stumbled and dropped everything she was carrying. She flushed.

"Oh, God. I'm such an idiot."

I started to help her, but Marcus was by her side in a flash, his movie star grin firmly in place. "Happens to the best of us. I'm Dave."

"J-Julia," she said. In all the time I'd known her, I'd never seen her flustered around a guy. She usually ate them for breakfast.

"There we are." He handed her the books, all neatly stacked.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. You didn't have to do that. I mean, it was my own fault. I'm not usually that clumsy. And I'm sure you're busy. You must have lots to do. Obviously." I'd also never heard Julia ramble.

Marcus patted her on the back, and I thought she might pass out. "Always happy to help a beautiful damsel in distress." He nodded in my direction. "I've got to go. Sydney, I'll be in touch."

I nodded back. As soon as he walked away, Julia dropped the books again and hurried over to me. "Sydney, you have to tell me who that is."

"He already did. Dave."

"Yes, but who is he?" She gripped my arm and seemed on the verge of shaking answers out of me.

"Just a guy I know." I thought about it more. "A friend, I guess."

Her breath caught. "You guys aren't - I mean - "

"What? No! Why would you think that?"

"Well, he's gorgeous," she said, as though that were enough to make us soul mates. "Don't you want to just rip his clothes off?"

"Whoa, no way."

"Really?" She scrutinized me, like I might be joking. "Not even a little?"

"Nope."

She stepped back and started picking up her books. "Jeez, Syd. I don't know what to think of you sometimes. I mean, I'm glad he's available - he is available, right? - but I'd be all over that if I were you."




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