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‘And yet we only hear one side of the story. One might ask how the other lover feels about their separation.’

He was so close to me, and still too far.

‘Well,’ I said quietly, ‘maybe he wasn’t being clear. So she had to guess what he needed.’

The tension was so heavy that I could almost reach out and grasp it. I looked up at his face, the face I had been sure I would never see again. Confronted with the strong cut of his jaw and his golden eyes, I couldn’t deny how much I still wanted him.

And there was a deep ache between my legs that bordered on pain, an ache I recognised from Paris.

And my lips were no longer just my lips, but an invitation, a welcome. An offering.

Arcturus looked at our hands, and then back into my eyes, as if he was scrying for truth in their depths. The spreading chill had disturbed every fine hair on my body, all the way to my nape. I wanted to speak, but this silence felt sacred, rich and pregnant with possibility.

‘Ducos has found you somewhere outside Rome,’ I eventually said. ‘You can stay there until Terebell comes back. Will you promise me you’ll feed?’

‘Will you be coming?’

‘I wasn’t—’ I stopped. ‘Do you want me to?’

He looked away, his eyes flickering.

‘The alysoplasm you are taking is a poison,’ he said. ‘I do not know the long-term effects on humans. If you do not allow yourself a reprieve, it may damage your aura permanently.’

He still hadn’t quite managed to sayyes.

‘I need to see Sala first,’ I said. ‘But I’ll bear that in mind.’ I stood. ‘You can use the organ until midnight. Verca just asks that you lock up after.’

I held out the key. He took it.

‘Thank you, Paige,’ he said. ‘For this, and for the book.’

All I could do was nod before I left him with the organ.

The next day, I could do nothing but rest. Arcturus filled my thoughts, distracting me from the task ahead. He clearly wanted me to join him in Orvieto, and I sensed it had been difficult for him to admit that one small thing.

A message arrived with the particulars of the meeting with President Sala. At quarter to eleven, I left the Chiostro del Bramante and waited in the right place, my hearing pricked.

When the car pulled up, I slid inside. The driver wore a suit and an earpiece and made no attempt to engage me in conversation, which suited me just fine.

The car drove through a pine forest. At first, I thought we must be approaching Castelporziano, the presidential estate that Arcturus had mentioned, but when the car stopped, it was outsidea small and run-down farmhouse in the countryside. When the driver let me out, a man in body armour approached, with another guard not far behind him.

‘Paige Mahoney,’ he said. I nodded. ‘Please follow me.’

He pointed me into the farmhouse. Inside, a woman awaited me, dressed in jeans and muddy boots and a chequered shirt.

Like someone who didn’t want to be recognised as the President of Italy.

Beatrice Sala was a shadow of the bold woman I had seen in the news. She had lost weight since the last time she was photographed, and her face was gaunt.

‘Paige Mahoney,’ she said. ‘Itisyou.’

‘President Sala,’ I said.

‘I thought you were voyant. A dreamwalker.’ The lines on her brow deepened. ‘I see no aura.’

‘I’m concealing it with a drug. I need to stay under the radar.’

‘I have been trying to do the same,’ she said. ‘I understand Domino sent you to track me down.’