"No, you aren't."

"Yes, we are," said Beauty, "and it's no use turning into a white wolf and savaging us, we've agreed to do it, and that's that."

Dominil eyed the sisters with dislike. Not only did playing a warehouse gig seem like a dubious career move, it was liable to get them all killed. Dominil had been unsure as to whether or not to inform them about the hunters who now pursued them. She'd almost decided against it, but the twins' unwelcome news made her change her mind. "You can't perform in public right now. It's too dangerous." She gave the twins a brief outline of her recent encounter with Albermarle. They sat in silence as she related the tale of her pursuit through the British museum.

"That sounds bad," admitted Delicious, "but we've had hunters chasing us before, and this Albermarle sounds like an idiot."

"He's not an idiot. He's extremely intelligent. He might not be the most competent hunter in the world, but there's no telling who he might be working with. We could find ourselves up against a lot more dangerous opponents than him. Besides, he has a grudge against me. It dates back to our time at Oxford."

"Why?"

Dominil, normally so calm, shifted uncomfortably. "He used to...follow me around."

"You mean he stalked you?"

"In a manner of speaking."

The twins burst out laughing. Dominil was surprised. She had expected the sisters to take the news badly. By werewolf standards, they weren't very fierce and didn't relish confrontations with hunters. "What do you find funny?" she asked.

"You having an affair with a werewolf hunter," cried Beauty.

"I didn't have an affair with him. I rejected his advances."

This seemed to amuse the twins even more.

"Maybe you shouldn't have. Might have stopped him from going around trying to kill werewolves."

"You can see why he's upset," said Delicious. "Poor student, probably shy, finally plucks up courage to ask Dominil out-"

"Which would take a lot of courage," added Beauty.

"Absolutely!" agreed Delicious. "Must have been terrifying, what with Dominil being so hostile. And what happens? She rejects him and breaks his heart. No wonder he hates you."

Dominil did not find the conversation amusing and said so. It only made things worse.

"When you think about it, Dominil's love life has caused a lot of trouble," observed Beauty. "Look what happened after she rejected Sarapen. Violence, destruction-practically tore the whole clan to pieces."

"It's like no one's safe with Dominil going around breaking hearts everywhere."

"What does everyone see in her?"

"Hidden passion? Dominil, do you have hidden passion?"

"You have to be more responsible," said Delicious. "Your chaotic love life is harming the rest of us."

"You would be better off forgetting this nonsense and preparing yourself for the lunar eclipse," said Dominil, attempting to change the subject.

Beauty shrugged. "Lunar eclipse? We're used to them. We just keep drinking till it's over."

"We hardly noticed the last one."

Dominil's phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and saw she had a message from Albermarle.

"i found your number because i'm smarter than you."

She put the phone back in her pocket. "I think you probably shouldn't play this gig."

"We'll be all right," said Beauty. "There will be a load of people there. Hunters won't attack it."

Dominil's phone vibrated again.

"i've always been smarter than you."

"Who keeps sending you messages?" asked Delicious.

"No one."

Angry at Albermarle and frustrated by the twins' inability to take anything seriously, Dominil left the room, mounted the stairs to her office, closed the door firmly, and sat down in front of her computer.

"All that is required now," she reflected, angrily, "is for that idiot Pete to blurt out the reason for his unhappiness, and the twins will never let me hear the end of it."

As far as she could see, Dominil had never done anything to inflame the passions of others. It wasn't her fault if Sarapen had been moved to violence, Albermarle had become a werewolf hunter, and Pete the guitarist had turned into a love-struck idiot.

"Merely a series of coincidences," she thought, and went about the business of once more trying to break through the security of the Avenaris Guild, a task that was becoming increasingly difficult, but one to which she now applied herself with even greater determination than before. Her phone vibrated for the third time.

"forget your feeble attempts at cracking. you can't get the better of me."

Dominil switched off her phone.

"I'll find you, Albermarle," she muttered, softly, "and then I'll make you regret ruining my visit to the museum."

CHAPTER 68.

Kalix stared blankly at the computer screen. She glanced around the class, desperately hoping that everyone else was as baffled as she was. To her dismay, all the others seemed to be working away busily. Even Vex was clicking her mouse enthusiastically. Kalix felt the palms of her hands moisten. She'd expected today's test to be difficult but wasn't quite prepared for the despair she felt as she attempted to complete Numeracy A, a beginner's test on numbers. Previously, she'd scraped her way through the entry-level test, but that had been carried out with a paper and pencil, something with which she was more comfortable. And even though that test had been made up of the most basic arithmetic, her score still hadn't been anything to boast about. This test seemed a lot more difficult. It was onscreen, and Kalix's computer skills were still very poor, despite Moonglow's help.

Kalix stared at the question and wondered if she was reading it correctly. It seemed to be about buying computers. Was that important? Was she supposed to know about buying computers? They wanted to know how many computers had been sold by some shop in February. Kalix frowned. There was a choice of answers onscreen, and she was supposed to click one of them. Her mind went blank. Was she supposed to round something up or down? No, that had been the last question.

She looked around again. Everyone was still busy. Kalix's mouth felt dry, and her hands became cold as her anxiety grew. She regretted ever agreeing to come to this place. She desperately wanted to sip some laudanum, but that only reminded her that she was almost out of laudanum. To buy more, she'd need to use money from her mother, and that would be withdrawn if she left college. Kalix cursed silently and wondered how she'd ever allowed herself to be maneuvered into this position.

Vex was still clicking away with her mouse. Kalix couldn't understand it. She was certain Vex didn't know any of the answers. She pressed the button to go on to the next question. Now it was asking about products bought in a hair salon. Kalix was baffled. She'd never been in a hair salon. Apart from the most minor trimming of split ends, her hair had never been cut. It hung down to her hips in a spectacular mane. How was she supposed to know about professional hair products? Why did they want to know what sort of units they were measured in?

Kalix felt a strong urge to bite the computer. Unfortunately it was midday, and she couldn't turn into a werewolf. Maybe she could just hit it? She shook her head. She couldn't hit the computer or they'd throw her out, and then she'd be in disgrace. She desperately clicked forward again to look at another question, but when she saw it concerned a graph, she despaired. Kalix knew she couldn't understand graphs. They didn't make sense. Why was this test so hard? Wasn't it supposed to be for beginners?

Kalix abandoned hope and sat back in her chair, concentrating for the moment on not succumbing to an anxiety attack. Though her anxiety had never gone away, it had been less severe in recent months. Since Gawain's death, she'd felt it worsening. Now Kalix felt anxious about becoming anxious. That made her more anxious. Kalix tried to divert her attention by returning her gaze to the computer screen, but by now, she could barely read any of the words. Abruptly, she felt her chest tighten, and she struggled to breathe. The walls of the classroom started to advance. Kalix gave way to panic.

She stood up and fled from the room, running through the corridor and down the stairs till she was outside the building where she stood gasping in the courtyard, trying to catch her breath. She glared at the old college building and swore she'd never go in there again.

Kalix noticed she was attracting attention from students coming though the front gates. Unwilling to be stared at while still trembling from panic, she slunk into one of the old wooden benches beside the wall, out of sight of the front gate, intending to gather herself for the journey home. That in itself would be difficult. She didn't enjoy traveling while gripped with anxiety.

Suddenly a familiar werewolf scent appeared. More than one scent. The Douglas-MacPhees were close. Kalix flattened herself onto the bench and peered out through the slats. Duncan Douglas-MacPhee appeared at the college gate.

"Maybe this one?" he said.

His sister Rhona appeared beside him. "I'm sick of checking these colleges. How are we supposed to find her? She has no scent."

"Morag hopes we might just run into her."

"Then let Morag walk around every college in London," growled Rhona. "I'm tired of looking in classrooms."

"I'm tired of arguing with doormen," added William, appearing behind his cousins.

The trio looked at the building, blocking the gates, forcing students to detour past them.

"We've done enough for today," said Rhona. "We know where the likely colleges are. It's time for Decembrius to do his share. He should be able to tell us which one she's at."

The Douglas-MacPhees turned and walked off, disappearing back through the gate towards the black transit van they'd parked outside. After they'd gone, Kalix remained hidden on the bench for some time, thinking about what she'd heard.

CHAPTER 69.

The enchantress glared balefully at her computer screen.

"I hate this woman."

Ann peered over her shoulder. "Susi Surmata?"

"How did she get to be the most influential fashion writer in the country? Her writing is hopeless. No insight. And the blog has a silly name. 'I Miss Susi.' What sort of name is that?" Thrix had failed to elicit any response from Susi and was frustrated and annoyed at the whole affair. "She obviously changed her mind about writing about my clothes and doesn't even have the courage to tell me."

"How may times did you email her?"

"Once or twice. Maybe three times. Five or six times. No more than eight."

"I make it twelve," said Ann.

"Well, you shouldn't be counting! No wonder she hates me. How pathetic is it to keep emailing some anonymous blogger begging for a review? Now I look like a complete idiot."

Ann studied the blog. "She doesn't seem to update it as often as she used to."

"Probably after seeing my designs, she decided to leave the country." Thrix drummed her fingers on the desk. "It's not good, Ann. I was relying on selling to Eldridges. My company is in trouble if that doesn't happen."

"Any progress with their buyer?"

"None at all. I think they actually hate me there. I can't even get through to Kirsten Merkel anymore. I know why. The woman's got a grudge against me because I've got an Abukenti handbag and she hasn't. She just can't stand it. These clothes buyers hate designers anyway. They're jealous because we've got all the talent. Merkel's probably been brooding about the handbag, and now she's taking revenge. She's lucky I don't use a spell on her."

Ann looked alarmed at the thought of her employer carrying out a sorcerous attack on an important clothes buyer.

Thrix banged her fist on her table, her considerable strength making the computer bounce and rattle. And with that, the enchantress changed into her golden werewolf shape, raised her snout towards the ceiling, and roared.

Ann rushed to lock the door. "Don't do that!" she exclaimed. "Do you want everybody in the office to know?"

Thrix snarled. She was the only werewolf in the clan who could transform during daylight, a result of the rigorous training she'd received from her sorcery teacher, old Minerva.

The scent of jasmine suddenly appeared in the air, there was a gentle flash of light, and the Fire Queen stood among them. She was smiling happily when she arrived, but her expression changed to one of consternation as she saw Thrix as a werewolf.

"In daylight? What's the matter? Are you under attack?" Malveria's eyes narrowed and began to glow. Flames flickered from her fingertips, instantly transforming her from a fashionable lady of leisure into a warrior awaiting the enemy.

Thrix sighed, a deep throaty sound that rolled over her long tongue and sharp teeth. She changed back to human and sat down heavily. "No, no attack. But I can't find Susi Surmata, and Kirsten Merkel won't talk to me."

"Ah," the Fire Queen said, nodding, and she perched on the corner of Thrix's desk. "Still you suspect the terrible handbag jealousy?"

"I do."

Malveria clutched her own Abukenti handbag, an item that had brought her great pleasure. It was the season's most fashionable bag, and there were many disappointed women who still coveted one. "So you plan to take on werewolf shape and rip her to pieces?"

"There will be no ripping to pieces!" cried Ann, hastily.

Malveria looked fierce. "The woman is an enemy and must be torn apart."

"Would you stop acting like you're both insane?" said Ann. "So Thrix didn't get a review she was hoping for, and now a buyer won't take her clothes. It happens. This is the fashion business, most people struggle. We just have to deal with it as best we can. Without ripping anyone to pieces."

Malveria looked disappointed. "I still feel it's a viable option."

"If the buyer wanted the handbag so badly, you could try bribing her with your own," suggested Ann.

Thrix's eyes widened in amazement. "I love my handbag. I'm not giving it up."

"It's an outrageous suggestion not fitting of the esteemed personal assistant to my dearest Thrix," chided Malveria. "A woman does not give up her favorite bag. Particularly when it is the most fashionable item of the season. I would lead my nation to war rather than surrender mine." She glanced at her bag. "It's just so stylish and practical."

Ann sighed. "Well, you'll have to think of another plan then. One that doesn't involve any blood. I'll ask around again about this blogger woman. Someone in London must know how to contact her. Maybe I can find out something from my friend in Vogue's payroll department. They must have sent her a check some time."

As Ann departed, Malveria made a quick examination of her makeup and outfit in the large wall mirror and nodded approvingly. "Our dinner went well, yes?"