Chapter 16
His former lover looked devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored midnight-blue coat that highlighted his grey eyes and wavy blond hair, his posture oozing with the easy confidence that came from generations of aristocratic breeding.
Evander noted the faint circles under his eyes with concern as he came over to greet them.
“Evander.” The French Special Arcane Investigator crossed the room in quick strides and pulled him into an embrace that would have been improper in London but was merely friendly by French standards. “Mon ami, it’s been far too long.” His smile was warm as summer sunshine.
“It’s only been two weeks,” Viggo said stonily.
“Ah, Mr. Stonewall.” Leon let go of Evander and pinned Viggo with a dry stare that said he was inwardly rolling his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to see you in my home city.”
“Yes, well, it’s not as if this trip is for leisure,” Viggo said testily.
Evander shot him a warning look.
Shaw watched their exchange with open fascination.
Leon’s gaze swept the others before returning to Evander with unmistakable amusement. “I must confess, when I heard you were bringing a team, I didn’t expect such an… eclectic assemblage.” He studied Fairbridge curiously. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Evander made the introductions. “Comte Leon Beaulieu, French Special Arcane Investigator. This is Mr. Hector Fairbridge, from the War Office. He’s here as an observer.”
Leon absorbed this with his usual aplomb. He indicated a large oak table that dominated the centre of the library. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”
A servant appeared with refreshments after they took off their coats and arranged themselves around the table. Shaw watched the table fill up with coffee, pastries, and small glasses of what Evander recognised as Armagnac.
“Isn’t it too early to be drinking?” Rufus muttered after getting a whiff of the brandy.
“It’s never too early to drink in France,” Evander said.
“He’s right,” Fairbridge concurred.
“Cor, this is much better fare than what we get in London, your Grace,” the forensic mage mumbled after taking a bite of a pastry.
Evander couldn’t well argue with this.
“First, the good news,” Leon said once everyone had helped themselves to food and drinks. “Professor Chevalier is recovering well. He’s currently convalescing at his family’s estate in Provence.”
Evander was glad to hear this.
“Have you been able to find any more information about Musgrave’s plans or the Crimson Codex?” he asked without preamble.
Leon bobbed his head briskly. “I am just getting to that. We’ve confirmed what you already suspected—that Musgrave and his associates were seeking information about Les Prophètes Illuminés and their research into magical transference.
As you know, the group was disbanded twenty years ago by the French Ministry of Arcane Affairs, their research scattered or destroyed. ”
“Or so everyone believed,” Viggo said grimly.
“Precisely. Which brings me to my recent discoveries.” He removed a leather portfolio from the satchel by his feet and put it on the table.
“I’ve been investigating the fates of researchers once connected to Les Prophètes Illuminés.
By this I mean those who belonged to the ill-fated group as well as the men and women who studied their work, referenced their theories, or claimed any association with them. ”
He spread several documents across the table. Evander leaned forward, his pulse quickening as he scanned the pages.
Leon’s voice hardened. “Over the past five years, eight researchers who once belonged to Les Prophètes Illuminés and four more who were linked with them have died or gone missing under suspicious circumstances. Three of these cases occurred this year alone.”
Evander’s blood ran cold. “What kind of suspicious circumstances?”
Leon’s frustration bled through in his voice. “Heart failures that weren’t consistent with their medical histories. Accidents that seemed too convenient. Disappearances that were never solved.”
Ginny traced the list of names with a finger. “Six deaths in Paris, two in Lyon, one in Bordeaux, and the final three in Nice, Marseille, and Toulouse.”
Viggo frowned. “That’s a pretty wide geographical kill zone.”
“Which means whoever was behind those deaths was after people who had something specific in common,” Solomon concluded in a dangerous tone.
“Could it be knowledge about the Crimson Codex?” Shaw suggested sharply.
Evander dipped his chin. “I cannot think of anything else under the circumstances.”
“I agree,” Fairbridge murmured.
“Have the victims been examined by your Arcane Forensics medical examiners?” Rufus asked Leon tensely.
“I am having them exhumed as we speak.” The Frenchman suddenly looked tired. “As you can imagine, it’s not been an easy task, what with having to explain to the families why the French authorities want to dig up their loved ones after so long.”
“Ah,” Fairbridge murmured. “That explains the piece in today’s newspaper.”
Evander’s mind raced.
“If we go with the theory that someone may be systematically eliminating anyone who knows about the Codex, then there could be more victims.” He frowned at Leon. “When was the last death?”
“A month ago. My colleagues didn’t make the link to the Musgrave incident until I returned to Paris and made my report.”
Tension knotted Evander’s shoulders. “Do you have other names in mind? Researchers who are still alive but could become potential future victims?”
Admiration flared briefly in Leon’s eyes. “That is exactly what my commander recommended I look into. We have a couple of names in Paris. We are currently trying to trace their whereabouts.”
Something in Leon’s voice had Evander pinning him with a wary stare.
“What is it you’re not telling us?”
“These are not the only unusual disappearances that have taken place in Europe,” Leon confessed reluctantly.
Fairbridge narrowed his eyes. “You mean, there have been similar incidents in other countries?”
“Yes.” Leon met their gazes squarely. “I believe they are part of something much larger. Which is why I’ve been coordinating with someone else—someone who’s been tracking similar disappearances from a different angle.”
“Who?” Viggo asked sharply.
Leon hesitated, something flickering across his face that Evander couldn’t quite read.
“Someone in Brussels. They’ve uncovered information about a gathering—a convergence of some kind.
They believe it involves dark mages, wealthy patrons, and researchers who’ve gone underground.
” He paused. “They think the Crimson Codex may surface there.”
Evander frowned. “In Brussels?”
“He’s not certain yet.”
Evander drummed his fingers on the table. From what Whitley had reported to them, Musgrave had mentioned a possible Vienna connection.
“Brussels is where Princess Victoria’s tour is headed next.” Fairbridge’s expression had grown shuttered.
Confusion clouded Leon’s face. “Princess Victoria?”
Evander explained.
Leon’s eyes widened. “She invited you to tour with her?”
“Yes.” Evander lowered his brows, unease dancing through him. “Although I am beginning to wonder if our presence will put her and her entourage in danger.”
A fraught hush fell over the library. The distant sounds of carriages and the Paris foot traffic filtered faintly through the windows.
Evander realised everyone was looking at him. He took a deep breath and came to a decision.
“This contact of yours in Brussels. Can we trust them?”
“Yes,” Leon said adamantly. “They’ve been working this case longer than any of us. I’ll send a message to them to make contact when you arrive in Brussels.” He faltered. “They prefer to remain anonymous for now. Too many people know their face and discretion is paramount.”
Viggo’s eyes narrowed fractionally. Evander knew his lover had caught the same evasive note he had. Leon was hiding something—not maliciously, but deliberately.
“Very well,” Evander said. “In the meantime, we would like to see any archives or resources you have regarding Les Prophètes Illuminés. The more we understand about their research, the better prepared we’ll be.”
“Of course.” Leon’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ve already arranged for you to have full access to our restricted collection. There’s also—” He stopped as the library door opened.
A young clerk entered, looking flustered. “Pardonnez-moi, Comte Beaulieu. There’s been an incident. The police are requesting your immediate presence.”
Leon rose and reached for his coat on the back of his chair. “Where?”
“The Marais district.” The clerk swallowed hard. “A man has been found dead in his apartment. They believe it’s murder and that magic was involved.”
Evander was on his feet before the clerk finished speaking, as was Viggo. The others followed suit, faces grim.
“We’re coming with you,” Evander said adamantly.
Leon’s movements stilled as he shrugged into his coat. He frowned. “I’m afraid the only ones I can allow to accompany me are you, Inspector Grayson, Miss Shaw, and Mr. Fairbridge at a push. The others are civilians.”
Frustration tightened Viggo’s face.
Ginny sighed. “He’s right.” She put a hand on Viggo’s arm. “We have other means of obtaining information. We should do that while they go with Leon.”
Viggo dipped his chin reluctantly. He met Evander’s gaze, his own still full of unease. “Be careful.”