The others followed moments later.

"What," I breathed. "Is that?"

"Oh," said Adrian casually. "That's my new car."

I took a few steps forward and then stopped, afraid to approach it in the same way someone hesitated before royalty. "It's a 1967 Ford Mustang convertible," I said, knowing my eyes were probably bugging out of my face. I began walking around it. "The year they did a major overhaul and increased the size to keep up with other high-powered competition. See?

It's the first model with the concave tail lights but the last to have the Ford block lettering up front until 1974."

"What in the world is that color?" asked Eddie, not sounding impressed at all.

"Springtime Yellow," Adrian and I said in unison.

"I would've guessed Lemon Chiffon," said Eddie. "Maybe you can get it repainted."

"No!" I exclaimed. I tossed my purse over onto the grass and carefully touched the car's side. Brayden's beautiful new Mustang suddenly seemed so ordinary. "It's been touched up, obviously, but this is a classic color. Which engine code is this? C, right?"

"Um... not sure," said Adrian. "I know it's got a V-8 engine."

"Of course it does," I said. It was hard not to roll my eyes. "A 289. I want to know what the horsepower is."

"It's probably in the paperwork," Adrian said lamely.

It was at that moment that I really processed Adrian's earlier words. I looked up at him, knowing my face must be filled with disbelief. "This is really your car?"

"Yup," he said. "I told you. The old man spotted me the money for one."

"And you got this one?" I peered in through the window. "Nice. Black interior, manual transmission."

"Yeah," said Adrian, a note of unease in his voice. "That's the problem." I glanced back. "What is? The black is great. And the leather's condition is fantastic. So is the rest of the car."

"No, not the interior. The transmission. I can't drive a stick." I froze. "You can't drive a stick?"

"Neither can I," said Jill.

"You don't have a license," I reminded her. Although, my mother had taught me to drive before I had a license - both automatic and manual transmission. I knew I shouldn't be surprised the stick was a lost art, as savage as such a lack seemed to me. That paled, of course, in comparison to the other obvious problem. "Why on earth would you buy a car like this if you can't drive a stick? There are dozens of cars - new cars - that have automatic transmission.

It'd be a million times easier."

Adrian shrugged. "I like the color. It matches my living room." Eddie snorted.

"But you can't drive it," I pointed out.

"I figure it can't be that hard." Adrian sounded remarkably unconcerned about what I found blasphemous. "I'll just practice taking it around the block a few times and figure it out." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "What? Are you out of your mind? You'll ruin it if you don't know what you're doing!"

"What else am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Are you going to teach me?" I turned back to the beautiful Mustang. "Yes," I said adamantly. "If that's what it takes to save it from you."

"I can show you too," said Eddie.

Adrian ignored him and focused on me. "When we can start?" I ran through my school schedule, knowing I'd have to make talking to the Alchemists about the Warriors of Light my top priority. Then, the obvious hit me. "Oh. When we see Wolfe this week. We'll take this out there."

"Is that really to help me?" asked Adrian. "Or do you just want to drive the car?"

"Both," I said, not embarrassed to admit it.

Angeline's clock at school was ticking, so the rest of us had to leave. I'd driven three blocks away when I realized I'd left my purse on the grass. With a groan, I looped around and returned to his building. My purse was there, but the Mustang was gone.

"Where's the car?" I asked, panicked. "No one could have stolen it that fast."

"Oh," said Jill from the backseat, sounding slightly nervous. "I saw through the bond. He, um, moved it."

It was handy having the bond as a source of information, but her words made me panic more than if the car actually had been stolen. "He what?"

"Not far," she said quickly. "Just behind the building. This street's got weird overnight parking rules."

I grimaced. "Well, I'm glad it won't get towed, but he should've had me move it! Even if it's not far, he could ruin the transmission."

"I'm sure it's fine," said Jill. There was a strange note to her voice.

I didn't respond. Jill was no car expert. None of them were. "It's like letting a toddler loose in a room full of china," I muttered. "What was he thinking? About any of this?" No one had an answer for that. I got us back to Amberwood in time for Angeline's curfew and retreated to the sanity and calm of my room. As soon as I was satisfied my friends were safe and secure for the night, I e-mailed Donna Stanton - a high-up Alchemist whom I'd inexplicably developed a good relationship with - about the hunters and what we'd learned. I even took pictures of the pamphlet and e-mailed those as well. Once that was done, I sat back and tried to think if there was anything else at all I could provide her with that might help.

It was only when I'd exhausted all options (and refreshed my inbox a few times to see if she'd responded already) that I finally moved on to homework. As usual, I was pretty much caught up on every assignment - save one.

Ms. Terwilliger's.

That stupid book was on my desk, staring back at me, daring me to open it. I still had a number of days before her spell was due, time during which I could continue to procrastinate.

I was beginning to accept, however, that this assignment wasn't going to go away. Considering how long some of the prep on these took, maybe it'd be best to bite the bullet and get it out of the way.

Resolved, I brought the book over to my bed and opened it to the table of contents, scanning some of the spells she'd gone over with me. My stomach twisted at most of them, every instinct telling me how wrong it was to even be attempting these. Magic is for vampires, not humans.

I still believed that to be true, but the analytical part of my mind couldn't help but apply some of the defensive spells to various situations. Much like my decision to give blood, recent events had made me look at the world differently. Was magic wrong? Yes. But that blindness spell would have certainly been useful in the alley. Another spell, one that temporarily immobilized people, could've been used if I'd wanted to flee from the hunters at the cafe. Sure, it only lasted thirty seconds, but that was more than enough time for me to have escaped.