The secretary opened an ornate double door and ushered them inside.
The library was arranged over two floors that rose to a frescoed ceiling. Wrought-iron balconies lined the upper gallery, the delicate metalwork matching the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. Dust motes danced in the morning sunlight streaming through the tall windows. The room smelled of old leather, beeswax, and the faint metallic tang of preserved magic.
Leon stood before one of the windows, his elegant figure silhouetted against the light. He turned as they entered.
Evander felt a familiar jolt of affection tinged with sadness at seeing his old friend and the man he had once cherished with all his heart.
CHAPTER 16
His former loverlooked devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored midnight-blue coat that highlighted his grey eyes and wavy blond hair, his posture oozing with the easy confidence that came from generations of aristocratic breeding.
Evander noted the faint circles under his eyes with concern as he came over to greet them.
“Evander.” The French Special Arcane Investigator crossed the room in quick strides and pulled him into an embrace that would have been improper in London but was merely friendly by French standards. “Mon ami, it’s been far too long.” His smile was warm as summer sunshine.
“It’s only been two weeks,” Viggo said stonily.
“Ah, Mr. Stonewall.” Leon let go of Evander and pinned Viggo with a dry stare that said he was inwardly rolling his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to see you in my home city.”
“Yes, well, it’s not as if this trip is for leisure,” Viggo said testily.
Evander shot him a warning look.
Shaw watched their exchange with open fascination.
Leon’s gaze swept the others before returning to Evander with unmistakable amusement. “I must confess, when I heardyou were bringing a team, I didn’t expect such an… eclectic assemblage.” He studied Fairbridge curiously. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Evander made the introductions. “Comte Leon Beaulieu, French Special Arcane Investigator. This is Mr. Hector Fairbridge, from the War Office. He’s here as an observer.”
Leon absorbed this with his usual aplomb. He indicated a large oak table that dominated the centre of the library. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”
A servant appeared with refreshments after they took off their coats and arranged themselves around the table. Shaw watched the table fill up with coffee, pastries, and small glasses of what Evander recognised as Armagnac.
“Isn’t it too early to be drinking?” Rufus muttered after getting a whiff of the brandy.
“It’s never too early to drink in France,” Evander said.
“He’s right,” Fairbridge concurred.
“Cor, this is much better fare than what we get in London, your Grace,” the forensic mage mumbled after taking a bite of a pastry.
Evander couldn’t well argue with this.
“First, the good news,” Leon said once everyone had helped themselves to food and drinks. “Professor Chevalier is recovering well. He’s currently convalescing at his family’s estate in Provence.”
Evander was glad to hear this.
“Have you been able to find any more information about Musgrave’s plans or the Crimson Codex?” he asked without preamble.
Leon bobbed his head briskly. “I am just getting to that. We’ve confirmed what you already suspected—that Musgrave and his associates were seeking information aboutLes Prophètes Illuminésand their research into magicaltransference. As you know, the group was disbanded twenty years ago by the French Ministry of Arcane Affairs, their research scattered or destroyed.”
“Or so everyone believed,” Viggo said grimly.
“Precisely. Which brings me to my recent discoveries.” He removed a leather portfolio from the satchel by his feet and put it on the table. “I’ve been investigating the fates of researchers once connected toLes Prophètes Illuminés. By this I mean those who belonged to the ill-fated group as well as the men and women who studied their work, referenced their theories, or claimed any association with them.”
He spread several documents across the table. Evander leaned forward, his pulse quickening as he scanned the pages.
Leon’s voice hardened. “Over the past five years, eight researchers who once belonged toLes Prophètes Illuminésand four more who were linked with them have died or gone missing under suspicious circumstances. Three of these cases occurred this year alone.”
