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“Breed!” Lucienne said, her cheeks flaming.

She saw a mischievous light flitting in the prince’s eyes, followed by the flickering of the flashlight along the wall as he continuedsearching for the hidden gadget. “Of course—at some point. I’m not a real monk. I have a need to reproduce.”

Lucienne’s lips closed in a thin line. “Should we wrap this up so you can go reproduce?”

“Excellent idea,” chortled Vladimir.

“Whatever.” She managed a careless tone.

“Well, just so you’re not too disappointed,” Vladimir whispered. “I—we must find the scroll. That’s my one-way ticket to be with you. If we have it, your grandfather and that bulldog Kian McQuillen can’t object to our—hanging out. That’s been my brilliant plan all along.”

Outside her family, few knew of the existence of the three ancient scrolls. Lucienne wondered how Vladimir had gotten wind of them, but she was more occupied with his confession. He brought her here . . . to gain her. For a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. As she calmed down, all the sounds she had blocked out flooded back into the room—the monks’ guttural chanting from the prayer hall and the crowd’s singing amid the drumbeat from the courtyard. Today was the first day of Tibetan Losar.

“Well,” Lucienne said, trying to hide a smile. “I don’t need Jed and Kian’s approval on whom I choose—to hang out with.”

“I’d like to be on good terms with your people.”

“If you insist,” Lucienne said. “But how can you be so sure the scroll’s in Samye?” She knew the former Sirens had checked Drepung, Ganden, and Sera—the three most important monasteries in Tibet—but paid little attention to Samye.

“Samye was the first monastery in Tibet,” Vladimir said. “When it was built in the eighth century, Shantarakshita, the saint, brought a holy item with him and had the Seven Examined Men guard it with their lives. But even the Seven Men weren’t allowed to peek at what they were guarding. Word spread among the high-ranking monks that the holy item was one of the three ancient scrolls. When I overheard their whispers during one of my midnight escapades, I started looking for it.”

“Midnight escapades?”

Vladimir gave her a look. “Anyway, during my nights out, I found where Saint Shantarakshita hid the treasure.”

“Then do you mind showing me? We’ve been here for a good hour. The monks could find us any minute. Maybe we should go back to the Dalai Lama’s old throne room. Some relics inside the barred glass case looked promising. We might find a clue inside Padmasambhava's walking stick or in Shantarakshita’s skull?”

“I checked all those last time I was here,” Vladimir said. “And I have absolute confidence in my scanner. You know how much money I spent on it? No, the holy stuff is here. I didn’t go through hell to get the original floor map of this place for nothing. Only Gonkhang chapel has this extra hidden space.”

“Three by two by fourteen feet, you said.”

“And it’s right behind this wall.” Vladimir knocked on the frescoes wall.

“Shush,” Lucienne hushed him, catching a faint flash of light at the fringe of her vision. She turned her head. There was no light. Only the Bön demon’ statue stood tall. She strolled toward it, her eyes sweeping over the human skulls at its feet and up its hideous body to its protruding fangs, settling on its odd eyes.

Vladimir moved behind her like a panther. Lucienne was immediately aware of his warm breath on her neck. His scent was like a wild river rushing under the summer sun, making her blood wild. “Have you noticed his eyes?” She breathed, struggling not to be distracted by his nearness.

“They look mean?”

“Look again.”

Vladimir squinted. “All the statues in the temple have black eyes. Only this deity’s third eye is pale blue.”

“Take me up,” Lucienne said.

Vladimir bent one knee. The minute their hands clasped, Lucienne used the push to leap from his bent knee; her booted feetlanded on his shoulders. Vladimir craned his neck to look up, but Lucienne’s ankle tapped the side of his face with a warning. Vladimir leveled his head with a chortle, snuggling his face against her calf like a purring cat. “Lithe grace,” he said.

Forcing herself to focus on her task rather than Vladimir’s touch, Lucienne twisted open one of her bracelets, an archaeology artifact scanner, and placed it in front of the demon’s eyes. “Both eyes are made of onyx.” She moved it toward the statue’s third eye. It read:Artificial human eye. 775 CE.

Technology ahead of its time.Lucienne inhaled. “Flashlight, please.”

Vladimir tossed his flashlight up. Lucienne snatched it and shot the light into the third eye. The artificial blue eye swirled, as if coming to life. Lucienne jerked her head back. The beads on her braids rattled.

“Lucia?” Vladimir stirred under her feet, his voice sounding alarmed.

Suddenly, Lucienne knew what to do. She leaned in until her left eye was an inch from the artificial one. She widened her eye, holding for a few seconds, and blinked.

A whoosh of wind rippled across the chapel; the solid wall of frescoes moved. Lucienne landed beside Vladimir. The wall rolled aside, revealing a small compartment. Vladimir dashed into it with Lucienne at his heels. They stared at a transparent palm reader that guarded the last door.