They found a burner phone, the empty syringe used on Apollo, and a wallet containing a handful of Euros and a fake ID. A high-quality fake ID only reinforced that they had money backing them, whoever they were.
Valentine lifted the dead man's shirt. On his chest were various tattoos. "Interesting," was all Valentine said, and took photos of the swirls, sigils, and snakes. "He was definitely a practitioner. I can feel the magic in these sigils."
The blood that he used to kill himself was still over his mouth and nose. Valentine pulled a fine-bladed stiletto from inside his leather jacket and used the tip to poke at the seal. "The spell thickened it almost like a silicone, and it still hasn't softened, even though the caster is dead. Usually, spells die with their creator, which tells us?"
"It wasn't originally his spell?" Lachlan guessed.
Valentine grinned. "Very good. This is advanced work. He might have been taught the trigger words to set it off, but he didn't create it. He's not qualified enough."
"How do you know that?"
"He's too young."
"He looks as young as you," Lachlan pointed out.
Valentine looked up at him. "Yes, but if he were as good as me, I would know of him. Our paths would have crossed."
Lachlan remembered Reeve mentioning that Valentine was the most gifted magician of their generation in Europe, maybe the world. He did a lot to hide how good he really was, but he studied all kinds of magic, not just one discipline. Even the fucked-up kinds of magic no one else would touch. It was why he was the most dangerous of all the Greatdrakes, except maybe Cosimo.
Lachlan suspected Cosimo was just better at hiding it than Valentine.
Valentine took more photos of the blood seal and answered his phone when it rang.
"Hello, Dad. You get the photos?" Valentine asked and put the phone on speaker.
"I did. Sanguis Vitae was obsessed with bloodlines back in the day. They thought magical talent could be traced through different families, and they would recruit from them. There isn't much in our records, but I have reached out to another Medici expert I know. He might have some idea of what happened toCatherine's society after she died," Cosimo said. "We need to find Apollo as fast as we can."
"We are trying to," Lachlan pointed out.
"Why?" Valentine asked at the same time. "What do you think they want with him?"
"I can't help but think of their obsession with recreating the Philosopher's Stone," Cosimo said, and his voice cracked. It betrayed just how worried he was.
"Why does the stone matter?" Lachlan pressed, not understanding.
"Dragon blood is mentioned a lot in alchemy as an ingredient. In some of the experiments, it's referring to the red tree resin. There were schools of thought that meant itliterally," Cosimo continued. "The Sanguis Vitae were also obsessed with blood magic. They could still believe that they need real dragon blood as a transformative substance to make the stone."
"But Apollo hasn't even shifted yet. If they were after a dragon, the world knows Taranis has returned. Why not go after one of the knights?" Lachlan demanded, crossing his arms so Valentine wouldn't see how much his hands were shaking.
"Too hard of a target," Valentine answered immediately. "And Apollo is a famous alchemist. A prodigy. They might have thought he would be more sympathetic to their cause and want him to work with them."
"Yeah, Apollo doesn't exactly strike me as the team player type," Lachlan grunted.
"Hence the kidnapping. This is good news," Valentine said and stepped away from the body, done with his examination.
Lachlan's fists clenched. "Howis this good news?"
"It means they won't want to kill him straight away," Cosimo said, sounding tired. "Not unless he gives them no other choice."
Valentine and Lachlan shared a look. Apollo was going to be furious when he woke up, which wouldn't put him in a listening mood.
"Find some of his hair, Cosimo. Do whatever tracking spell you need to do. We need to find him," Lachlan said and prayed to whatever gods would listen that Apollo didn't piss off his kidnappers until they got there.
7
Apollo's eyes felt like they had been plucked out, rolled in sand, and shoved back into his head. He ran his face against the soft velvet under his cheek and realized he was in yet another unfamiliar bed. Twice in a day seemed like a new record.
He hoped that he would open his eyes and see the retro movie poster ofHighlanderand that everything was a bad dream. He knew he wouldn't because he couldn't smell Lachie.
