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Sebastian wasn’t supposed to talk about the relics to anyone outside of his family.

But everyone at the table had helped find missing relics, along with the siphon that had made them.

He trusted all of them. “There’s a medallion that was worn as a pendant,” Sebastian said, “and a cuff, for the arm. They were not among the Earl of Blanshard’s collection when we were in his manor in September. ”

Zhang was leaning in now, curiosity on his face. “What do those two relics do?”

“The medallion has tracking magic,” Sebastian said. “Or hunting magic, if you’d rather call it that,” he added, side-eying Wesley.

“What, like a magical hound?” Wesley said.

“That’s pretty accurate,” Sebastian admitted. “The magic is supposed to work in a similar way: as long as you have a sample of what you’re looking for—a scent —it can find more of the same.”

“Could this relic hunt magic ?” Rory asked, more quietly.

Sebastian’s stomach dropped again. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But it’s a relic; it’s been feeding on its own magical chains for centuries and growing more powerful. Whatever it could have done before, it’s much more dangerous now. So…maybe.”

“Well, that’s not particularly reassuring,” Arthur muttered. “How do you unlock it?”

“It’s not a very nice key,” Sebastian said, wincing. “But at least it’s not easy. You have to murder a paranormal with three kinds of magic.”

“Three?” Arthur said. “That’s going to be a short list. Even Rory, Jade, and Gwen only have two types of magic, their own and their relic.”

Sebastian himself used to have four. He carefully didn’t mention it. “The Earl of Blanshard would have had three—his own innate ability to absorb auras, the brooch relic, and my ancestor’s binding on him .”

“The earl is at least quite dead, although I suppose there will be other paranormals in the world with three kinds of magic,” Wesley said. “What about the seventh relic—the cuff? What does it do and how does one unlock it?”

Sebastian winced again. This was not his favorite relic to talk about. “It, um. It casts curses.”

“Oh, I don’t like that,” Jade muttered. “Please tell me this one has a difficult key as well.”

“I wish I could tell you that.” Sebastian sighed. “But I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Zhang blinked. “Don’t you know all of this stuff?

You just mentioned that you’re descended from the Spanish witch-hunter who tracked down the seven nobles who made the relics.

You told us the reason your entire family has magic that works on other magic is because you share the bloodline that he… oh .”

“You share the bloodline that the inquisitor cursed ,” Jade said, finishing Zhang’s thought.

Sebastian nodded. “We know the inquisitor used the cuff relic to cast the blood curse on himself and all his future descendants.” He shrugged helplessly. “But naturally he didn’t want us to know how to unlock the cuff, in case one of us got the idea to try and remove the curse.”

Fingers touched Sebastian’s wrist, steady and warm.

He looked up to find Wesley’s gaze on him.

“But you did remove the curse from yourself.” Wesley’s fingers skated across the black ink outline of the lion.

“Mr. Findlay said the brooch relic was drawing on your blood curse. When you let it strip your magic, it took your curse too.”

Wesley so rarely touched him outside of bed, and now his fingers were tracing the delicate skin of Sebastian’s inner wrist, sending pleasant prickles radiating over him.

“Are you implying I outsmarted my ancestor?” Sebastian said, trying to concentrate.

“I didn’t, though. I can’t use a relic if I don’t have magic. ”

“Are you certain?” Zhang said.

Sebastian opened his mouth, then pursed his lips. “I guess I can’t say for sure,” he admitted. “It seems unlikely, though, no?”

“Not at all,” Zhang said firmly. “The relics were created when nobles stripped out their own magic and put it in something else. You also did the first part.”

“But my magic didn’t go into anything else,” Sebastian said.

“We don’t know that either,” Wesley pointed out, moving his hand from Sebastian’s wrist to his own drink. “There was a mass of magic and murder in that attic. Are you sure you didn’t accidentally create a relic?”

“Shouldn’t I have been able to tell if I did?” Sebastian countered. “Why would my own magic go into something but then hide from me?”

“Maybe Gwen can tell us, with her witch-sight,” Arthur said. “She’s in London again. We’re all game for the trip over there with you and Wes, to see if she can figure out what’s happened to you and make sure Wesley’s aura is intact.”

Sebastian gave him a small, grateful smile.

“I would like to be sure Wesley’s aura has healed,” he said, once again dancing away from any mention of his now-gone magic the way he’d have avoided the edge of no-man’s-land in the war.

“But I would also like a lead on who might be behind everything that happened in October. Alasdair may have been murdered because of it.”

“Maybe you can give us a lead,” Zhang said. “We still have two missing relics. Who did they belong to?”

Sebastian had the first spark of hope. “That is a place to start,” he said. “The two remaining relics belonged to a married couple. The cuff belonged to a Spanish countess, and the medallion was created by her husband—who was an English nobleman.”

Jade raised her eyebrows. “Not an ancient marquess by the name of Thornton, by any chance?”

“No,” Sebastian said. “He was a duke, according to our family notes. He had a title like a mountain, or something-mount, maybe?”

Wesley pursed his lips. “Valemount?”

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “How did you know?”

“Because I know him,” Wesley said. “Well, not him , the fellow from the fifteenth century. But I know the line. I was acquainted with the past duke, Alfred Fairfield, who died two years ago in a hunting accident—perhaps a bit of irony there, if he was descended from a paranormal duke with some kind of hunting magic.”

Arthur tilted his head. “So who’s the duke now, then?”

“His younger brother, Louis Fairfield,” Wesley said. “I’ve met him several times as well. We deployed to France at the same time, actually, but he got sent home from the war quite quickly—some kind of injury was the story, wasn’t ever revealed what kind.”

“Brother?” Rory furrowed his brow. “I thought those sorts of inherited things went to sons.”

“When there is one,” Wesley said. “But the previous Duke of Valemount had only daughters—five of them—and with no son, the dukedom went to the brother. Hell, my title would go to my second cousin, Geoffrey, if I die first, a fact he reminds me of with some frequency,” he added dryly.

“So we have a duke descended from a paranormal duke with a relic, and he’s a fairly recent duke at that.” Arthur tapped his chin. “If we go to England, can you arrange a meeting with the duke, Wes?”

“Certainly,” Wesley said. “Honestly, I’d hardly have to arrange a thing: we’re on the same guest lists for the same parties.

In fact, the very marquess who likely has no idea his maid was magically murdered, Lord Thornton, is hosting a ball at his country home and Valemount and I are both invited.

But it’s Friday next, and we’d have to be on a ship tomorrow to make it across the Atlantic in time. ”

Jade and Zhang exchanged a look. “Is that right,” Jade said slowly, her eyes still locked with Zhang’s.

“It’s fine to miss this particular ball, truly,” Wesley said hastily, and he seemed to be carefully not looking at Sebastian.

“It’s one I’m invited to through a club that Thornton, Valemount, and I are all in.

It’s a—you know what, it doesn’t matter.

The point is, it’s nearly December and the Christmas season will mean plenty of other wretched social events to attend.

Perhaps we can find a ship leaving next week? ”

Wesley had been in a hunting club with Sir Ellery. What club were Wesley and Thornton and Valemount in together?

Sebastian opened his mouth, but Stella’s musical voice, amplified by the carbon microphone, suddenly filled the speakeasy.

“We promised you Latin night tonight!” Up on the stage, the spotlight flashed off of Stella’s red sequined dress. She clapped her hands together. “And coincidentally, we’ve got a brave rescuer with us tonight who gives us a fine excuse to take our music south. Who’s ready?”

Sebastian felt his cheeks flush. The crowd cheered as Stella’s band struck up a Cuban rumba, and couples began filling the dance floor.

“Look at you blush.” Wesley’s expression had turned amused. “Imagine if you were wearing a proper tailcoat right now. You’d be perfectly dressed to go up onstage for the crowd to admire.”

“On stage ?” Sebastian shuddered. “I’d rather sit here and be ignored, thank you.”

“Ignored, huh.” Rory’s gaze darted past Sebastian, and his lips curled up. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

Before Sebastian could ask why not, a new voice, soft and feminine, sounded at his side. “Excuse me.”

Sebastian startled, turning to find pretty young woman around his own age, with a brown bob and red lips, was standing next to his chair, smiling at him hopefully.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “And I don’t mean to be forward. But I just figured you might be one of the only fellas in this club who’d know how to dance to this with me.”

“Oh,” Sebastian said in surprise. Don’t look at Wesley, don’t make it obvious. “Well, I—”

“He probably is,” Wesley said, just a little gruff. “So go on, then. Give the lady a dance.”

Sebastian met his eyes. “It’s just a dance,” Wesley said, holding his gaze. “If you want to dance, you should.”