Then Jack suddenly straightened. “Oh! I nearly forgot to mention this.”
He set his mug down and looked me square in the eye.
“When you arrived, you were holding a piece of paper. Clutching it so tightly, I had to pry your fingers open to get it.”
A chill ran through me.
“A piece of paper?” I repeated, frowning.
“Yes. And you kept saying you were in danger.”
The words sent a cold dread creeping down my spine.
“Do you still have it?”
Jack nodded. “Yes. Let me get it.”
He hurried out of the kitchen, leaving me staring at the space he had just occupied.
When he returned, he slapped the paper onto the table before me.
“Here it is.”
I hesitated before lifting the brittle parchment, my pulse thrumming in my ears.
And then—Iread it.
Roman,
If you are reading this, it means you have healed and survived your wounds.
You’re probably wondering who I am. All you need to know is I am your ally.
Olivia is safe. You will see her again soon. I need you to do the following immediately.
First, find Tristan. When you do, bring him to me under the full moon. You will find me in 1597 Italy. When you arrive, meet me at the following address:
Via Antonio Cecchi 63, 30122 Sant’Elena, Venezia, Italia.
It is a villa. You have less than a month.
Once you return, Olivia will be waiting for you.
Yours,
Malik
I reread the parchment again and again.
Malik.
The name stirred something deep within me—something I couldn’t place, something I should remember.
Where had I heard that name before?
Had I met him in the Americas? In England? In Rome?
But my mind returned nothing except a hollow sense of familiarity, like a song I had once known but had long since forgotten.
