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“You idiot!” Evander snapped.

Leon winced as a healer took care of the cut on his scalp. “That’s the tenth time you’ve said that, mon cher duc.”

The healer maintained a diplomatic silence.

They were in the Met’s infirmary. The fog had begun to dissipate by the time they returned to Scotland Yard.

Weak sunlight filtered through the windows of the ward and washed over Leon where he sat on the edge of a treatment bed.

He’d stripped to his waist and was holding an ice pack of his own making to his nose.

Remorse filled Evander as he studied the cuts and bruises on his former lover’s body.

He hadn’t wanted to leave Leon after they’d arrived back at Scotland Yard and had directed Rufus and Shaw to deliver an urgent report to Winterbourne about this morning’s incident in his stead.

Cecillia had stayed at the Institute to await Rigley’s return and inform him about what had happened.

Evander reminded himself he was still upset with the Frenchman.

“Yes, well, it bears repeating considering the thickness of your skull,” he said nastily. “So what were you doing in that classroom?”

“I was examining the secret chamber beneath Whitley’s laboratory to see if we’d missed any clues when I sensed dark magic close by. I followed it to that lecture hall.”

Evander lowered his brows. “And you found Musgrave there?”

“Yes. He seemed surprised to see me.”

Frustration churned Evander’s stomach as he realised once again how close he’d come to losing Leon.

“What the devil did you think you were doing, going there on your own?!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

Irritation tightened Leon’s mouth. “You do realise I’m a Special Arcane Investigator too?”

“That’s not the point,” Evander ground out. “We’re dealing with powerful forces. You’ve seen what they can do. Even Whitley and Chevalier were helpless against them. And you’re my friend before you’re a Special Arcane Investigator, dammit!”

Leon blinked, surprise replacing the anger on his face. A lopsided smile curved his mouth.

“Is that all I am to you now? A friend?”

The healer sucked in air and shot an avid glance at the pair of them.

Evander’s eyes shrank to slits. “I was about to add ‘close’ to the word ‘friend’ but since you insist on being an ass, I shall relegate you to a mere acquaintance.”

“Ouch,” the healer muttered under his breath, wincing.

“Come now, surely you jest,” Leon protested. A groan left him when the healer started working on his bruised ribs.

Guilt choked Evander’s throat.

“Evander?” Leon murmured weakly.

Evander leaned forward anxiously. “Yes?”

“I shall feel much better if you nurse me back to health,” the Frenchman declared shamelessly.

“With your own hands, I mean.” His eyes twinkled.

“A guest room in your home would make the perfect location for my convalescence, I wager. Why, I can already feel my energy returning at the thought of your tender, loving care.”

Evander made an incoherent sound.

The healer shook his head with a disgusted expression and muttered under his breath about idiots taking a mile when they were given an inch.

They were distracted by the sight of Rufus and Shaw entering the infirmary.

The forensic mage frowned as she approached with the inspector.

“Everything alright, your Grace? You look a bit flushed.”

Evander noticed the way Rufus registered Leon’s brazen grin and grasped the situation fairly quickly.

“It’s nothing,” Evander said darkly. “Does Winterbourne have a message for me?”

“Only that we should accelerate our investigation now that the enemy knows we are closing in on them,” Rufus related in a hard voice.

“I’ll organise a team to investigate Professor Musgrave’s office at the Institute and his residence,” Shaw said sharply.

“Good.” Evander frowned and rubbed his chin. “I’ll send a message to Viggo. Now that we know of Musgrave’s involvement, it would benefit us if Nightshade looked into his connections. It might help us pinpoint the location of that secret facility.”

The door to the infirmary opened. A constable poked his head in. Relief brightened his face at the sight of Evander.

“Your Grace, can you please make your way to the Artificers’ Lab? Mr. McAndrew requests your presence.”

Tension knotted Evander’s shoulders. He exchanged a cautious look with Rufus and Shaw and led the way to the door.

“What about me?” Leon called out indignantly behind them.

“You stay here and reflect on your actions,” Evander snapped over his shoulder.

“You tell him, your Grace,” the healer murmured.

The smell of raw magic washed over Evander when he entered the Artificers’ Lab ahead of Rufus and Shaw. Unlike the alchemists’ crowded workspace, this room was an ode to meticulous organisation, not an instrument or an artefact out of place.

Elias McAndrew sat at his work bench, his hands steepled under his chin and his normally cheerful face set in lines of concern as he stared at the warded box in front of him. It contained the brass and glass contraption they’d discovered.

A protective magic field shimmered around the entire thing.

“You wished to see us?” Evander asked without preamble.

McAndrew startled and looked at him distractedly. “Ah, your Grace. I didn’t notice you there.”

Evander could tell whatever the artificer had discovered about the device was troubling him. Rufus and Shaw traded a worried glance.

“What can you tell us about this artefact?” Evander prompted McAndrew quietly.

The artificer’s face darkened. “I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I think this thing has a similar function to the Blood Siphon .”

Dread brought a sour taste to Evander’s mouth. Though he’d suspected the same, hearing McAndrew confirm it made his worst fears seem like an inevitable reality.

“Are you certain?”

“As certain as I can be, your Grace,” McAndrew confirmed.

“Whereas the Blood Siphon was created to absorb and stabilise the life force of thralls, this artefact was created to extract and condense magic itself, likely before transferring it to a thrall vessel for storage, according to Whitley’s research. ”

Rufus drew a sharp breath. Shaw cursed quietly.

“I have examined some of the documents uncovered in the room where this device was found,” McAndrew continued grimly. “It’s safe to say that what we’re looking at here is just a portable version.”

Evander froze. “A portable version?” An image flashed before his eyes then. The enormous contraption Renwick had drawn his magic from in the warehouse where he and Viggo had confronted the dark mage was still etched sharply in his nightmares. “You mean, there’s a larger version of this?!”

“Yes.” A muscle jumped in McAndrew’s cheek. “I heard about the map you found in that missing professor’s journal and the hidden facility it portrays. I bet you it’s there, your Grace.” The artificer hesitated. “I made one more disturbing finding.”

Evander’s pulse quickened. He wasn’t sure how things could get any worse than they were, but apparently they could.

“There was an unusual magical signature embedded in the device.”

“I knew it!” Shaw hissed with a triumphant expression.

Rufus hushed her.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever encountered before.” Dread pooled in McAndrew’s eyes as he met Evander’s gaze. “I believe it’s a hybrid form of dark magic that incorporates elements of Blood Magic and shadow manipulation.”

Ice filled Evander’s veins. Rufus and Shaw paled.

A heavy silence fell over them as they all contemplated the dire implications of the artificer’s findings. There was no longer any doubt in Evander’s mind.

“ I ” was involved in this evil scheme.

A commotion in the corridor outside the lab had them looking towards the doorway. Rapid footsteps approached, their cadence familiar.

Evander straightened when Viggo entered the room at a brisk pace. He took one look at the Brute’s expression and knew something terrible had happened.

“It’s Solomon,” Viggo said hoarsely. “Solomon has gone missing!”