The Indigo Spell Page 0,70

did you?"

I honestly hadn't known. "So this is what you're offering me. A fairy tale about my tattoo, if I just complete some traitorous mission for you."

"I'm offering you freedom," Marcus corrected. "And the ability to help Moroi and dhampirs in a way that's not part of some larger conspiracy. You can do it on your own terms."

Eddie and I exchanged glances. "And speaking of conspiracy," I said. "I'm guessing this is the part where you tell me about the alleged Alchemist and Warrior connection - the one you need me to prove."

My sarcasm was lost on the threesome because they all grew excited. "Exactly," said Marcus. "Tell her, Wade."

Wade finished off a chicken finger covered in ranch dressing and then leaned toward us. "Just before I joined Marcus, I was assigned to the St. Louis facility. I worked in operations, handling a lot of visitor access, giving tours . . . not the most interesting work."

I nodded. This, at least, was familiar territory. Being in the Alchemists meant taking on all sorts of roles. Sometimes you destroyed Strigoi bodies. Sometimes you made coffee for visiting officials. It was all part of the greater cause.

"I saw a lot of things. I mean, you can probably guess." He looked troubled. "The harsh attitudes. The rigid rules. Moroi visited, you know. I liked them. I was glad we were helping them, even though everyone around me acted as though helping such 'evil' creatures was a terrible fate that we'd been forced into. I accepted this because, you know, I figured what we're told is true. Anyway, there was one week . . . I swear, it was just nonstop Strigoi attacks all over the country. Just one of those things. The guardians took out most of them, and field Alchemists were pretty busy covering up. Even though most of it was taken care of, I just kept wondering about why we were always dealing with the aftermath when we have so many resources. I mean, I didn't think we should start going after Strigoi, but it just seemed like there should be a way to help the Moroi and guardians be more proactive. So . . . I mentioned it to my supervisor."

Marcus and Amelia wore deadly earnest expressions, and even I was hooked. "What happened?" I asked softly.

Wade's gaze looked off into the past. "I was chastised pretty bad. Over and over, all my superiors kept telling me how wrong it was for me to even think things like that about the Moroi, let alone talk about them. They didn't send me to re-education, but they suspended me for two weeks, and each day, I had to listen to lectures about what a terrible person I was and how I was on the verge of corruption. By the end, I believed them . . . until I met Marcus. He made me realize I didn't have to be in that life anymore."

"So you left," I said, suddenly feeling a little more kindly toward Marcus.

"Yes. But not before completing the mission Marcus gave me. I got a hold of the classified visitor list."

That surprised me. The Alchemists were always hip deep in secrets. While most of our goings-on were recorded diligently, there were some things that our elite leaders didn't want the rest of the society to know about. Again, all for the greater good. The classified list would detail people allowed access - that the higher-ups wanted kept secret. It wasn't something the average Alchemist could see.

"You're young," I said. "You wouldn't be allowed access to something like that."

Wade snorted. "Of course not. That's what made the task so difficult. Marcus doesn't have us do easy assignments. I had to do a lot of dangerous things - things that made me glad to escape afterward. The list showed us the link to the Warriors."

"Did it say 'Top Secret Vampire Hunter Meeting'?" asked Eddie. Things like that, aside from his deadly protective skills, were why I liked having him along.

Wade flushed at the jibe. "No. It was all coded, kind of. It didn't list full names, just initials. Even I couldn't get the actual names. But one of the entries? Z. J."

Marcus and his Merry Men all looked at me expectantly, as though that were supposed to mean something to me. I glanced at Eddie again, but he was just as baffled.

"What's that stand for?" I asked.

"Zebulon Jameson," said Marcus. Once again, there was an expectation. When I didn't answer, Marcus turned