“I’m not, really. It’s just weird to see you without them.” Beside them, a printer spit out an article draft. “I guess I have favorites of the ones I’ve seen?”
“Yeah?” Boone rolled up his sleeves until his forearms were bare. “They all tell a story, if you’re that interested. Hit me.”
He told her about the anchor on his extensor carpi ulnaris and how it was a reminder that, even when he thought he’d hit rock bottom, there was still further to go. He told her about the constellation on his biceps, which represented Orion’s Belt (“or, as we call it in Mexico, Los Tres Reyes Magos”). By the time she worked her way around to the sun with the line bisecting it, he’d made her laugh so many times that she almost regretted asking.
“Oh, that?” he said, glancing down at his inner wrist as though the tattoo meant nothing at all. “That’s the alchemical symbol forsalt. According to Paracelsus, it’s one of the tria prima—three primes—of alchemy. It represents earth and the material body, the fixed principle of existence, the purification of matter. And salt itself is said to protect from evil spirits and bad luck.”
“I thought I’d seen that symbol somewhere.” Ellory made a thoughtful sound before her eyes met his. “Does it have anything to do with divination?”
“Like alomancy? That’s when you toss salt in the air and read the patterns it falls in.”
He didn’t pause, didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. Ellory stared him down, connecting his tattoo to the very label the hidden museum had given it, and Boone seemed for all the world like they were just exchanging fun facts. Should she push him in such a public place? Or should she retreat, glad that he didn’t seem to suspect her of anything for now?
Just when she was about to back off, an inscrutable smile crossed his face.
“This is starting to feel like an interrogation,” Boone said. “Do you want to grab a conference room?”
Ellory paused. “I’m good out here, I think.”
“Oh, come on, Morgan.” His eyes sharpened. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
It wasn’t about fear, she wanted to point out, but that would give him the upper hand. Instead, Ellory squared her shoulders and followed him to one without glass walls, tucked into the corner of the space between the windows and a kitchen.
Boone snagged a bag of pretzels on the way, whistling a reggaeton song she didn’t recognize. The door itself was made of glass, which made her relax only slightly. She was less afraid of Boone than she had been of Colt, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid atall. He was taller than her and likely stronger than her. He knew the newspaper office better than her, both the layout and the staff. If he wanted to make her disappear for asking the wrong questions, he could manage it easily on his home turf.
Boone dropped down at the head of the table, in full view of anyone who walked by, and popped a pretzel in his mouth. Ellory tried not to feel like a rabbit taking a meeting in a wolf’s den.
“If you want to ask me about magic,” he said once he’d swallowed, “then just ask me, Morgan.”
Ellory missed her chair. She caught herself on the back, bending her finger the wrong way, and fumbled onto her feet. Amusement flashed in those dark eyes that watched her from across the table. She charted the distance between herself and the door, wondering if she could make it to the hallway before he cast some spell.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Morgan,” Boone continued. “We’re just going to talk.”
“I believe you.” Her voice didn’t shake, which was the only good thing about this confrontation. “You’ve beensotrustworthy up until now.”
His smile widened. “I told you that I like you better with your claws out. Sit.”
Ellory sat, if only because she had no other choice. There were pens and pencils on the table, but he’d sat far enough away that she couldn’t stab him with one. She’d never stabbed anyone before anyway. She could try and cast a spell if needed, but she still hadn’t figured out what the last one had cost her, and she was wary of doing more magic until she did. He had her dead to rights, and they both knew it.
She clasped her hands together so they wouldn’t betray her fear. “Are you a member of the Old Masters?”
“Not by choice, but yeah.” His smile was a bitter thing. “I’m a loner, not a joiner, but they don’t really ask, you know?”
“No, I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I don’t know why you would—” She swallowed. “Is this why I haven’t been able to reach Hudson? I thought you just took his phone, but did he finally ask you outright and you made him disappear like—”
“I wouldneverhurt Hudson,” Boone snapped. She had never seen him angry, and his fury filled the room like poison gas. Gone was the mocking troll who seemed to make light of everything, and in his place was a warrior ready to defend his liege lord. “He’s not just my best friend. He’s my brother. I would never,everhurt him.”
“Did he know you have magic?”
“No.”
Ellory frowned dubiously. “Do you knowhehas magic?”
“Yes. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll help me keep that to ourselves. The Old Masters don’t react well to power they don’t control.”
Piece by piece, Boone seemed to pull himself back into the insouciant man she remembered. Hudson was a sore spot; she would file that away for later. It was surreal to be sitting here, having this conversation, with the kind of openness she usually shared only with Hudson or Tai and Cody. Though she’d seen the tattoos, she hadn’t really believed Boone could be an enemy until now. He seemed like the kind of guy who wouldn’t believe magic existed even if he knew about it, just to be contrary.
A loner, not a joiner.
