“Oh, no.” These were some of Carwyn’s closest friends, and they were probably going to hate her for—

“You got married? I’m so happy for you! I can’t wait to meet her. When are you coming to America? We have to meet her! Why isn’t she talking? Is she still there?” A quick pause… “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell us, Carwyn!”

He leaned toward the phone. “Turnabout is fair play, Mrs. Vecchio. Besides, we just got married. And it’s not actually the reason we were calling. We need your brains, please.”

Someone cleared their throat on the other line. “So… what? You were just going to skip over this little bit of news until the next time we—”

“Beatrice…” The low murmur came from Giovanni. “Later,” he whispered. “Carwyn, Brigid, what can we help you with?”

Brigid took a deep breath, pleased to be talking about murderous plots and conspiracies again. “What can you tell us about pomegranates?”

“Pomegranates?”

“Yes, we think the elixir may be produced using pomegranates, and we might be able to detect it in humans using the scent.”

There was a long pause; then Beatrice’s somber voice filled the room. “They’re still making it, aren’t they?”

Carwyn said, “Yes.”

Brigid heard two sighs.

“After everything we did…”

Giovanni said quietly, “We tried to tell the truth about it. Why didn’t they listen?”

“Greed,” Brigid said. “A willingness to exploit the weakness of others. They’ll justify it to themselves any way they can.”

“It’s a poison.”

“It’s a drug. And when I was human, I took drugs even though I knew they could kill me. Never underestimate the power of delusion.”

“We’re not going to stop it,” Carwyn said. “Our best bet is to learn how to detect it and hopefully find a cure.”

“And you think pomegranates might have something to do with it?”

“With detection, at least. We know of two elixired humans who both smelled distinctly of pomegranates.”

There was a pause, then the sound of movement on the other line. Giovanni spoke. “I believe that one of the ingredients in the elixir was pomegranate. Beatrice and Dez have the manuscript, and Dez has been trying to find someone here who might be able to research it further. Unfortunately, there aren’t many experienced alchemists in Southern California.”

“Brigid,” Beatrice said. “There’s a lot of mythology and symbolism related to pomegranates, so I’ll just give you the highlights. They’re Persian. Very ancient. Some think the fruit Adam and Eve ate in the Garden of Eden was actually a pomegranate.”

“Not an apple?” Carwyn chuckled and bit into one of the fruits she’d tossed at him.

“No. In Greek mythology, they’re associated with death. Persephone was tricked into eating pomegranate by Hades and doomed to live in the Underworld. There are lots of stories, but there are health benefits, too.”

“Oh?”

“Pomegranates have been used in medieval remedies and folk medicine throughout Asia and the Mediterranean for hundreds—maybe thousands—of years.”

“And now they’re being used to weaken vampires and kill humans,” Brigid whispered. “Like Emily.”

Another silence filled the room, and Carwyn walked to her, lifting her up and cradling her in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, love.”

She blinked back tears and nodded. “Beatrice, Gio, thank you so much for the help. Carwyn’s right. You two really are walking encyclopedias.”

Brigid heard Giovanni’s low laugh. “You’re more than welcome. It sounds like you two are busy, but keep in touch. And whenever you’re able, please, come visit. We’d love to meet you, Brigid. And we’ll even put up with Carwyn if we must.”

Brigid snorted. “Thanks. It was nice to speak to you both.”

“It’s nice to finally know who Carwyn’s mystery woman is,” Beatrice shouted.

Carwyn sat at the table and she perched in his lap. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Give me a couple hundred years, and I’ll think about letting you off the hook. Bye, Father!”

“Um…” Didn’t they know? She had assumed that Carwyn would tell them. “Carwyn, did you…”

There was a scuffle of voices on the other end.

“You know he’s not a—”

“I forgot! I’ve called him that the entire time I’ve known—”

“It might bother his wife to hear him called ‘Father.’ If I can get out of the habit—”

“Don’t use the professor voice on me, Gio.”

Carwyn interrupted the quietly escalating argument. “Good-bye, both of you. We’ll talk to you soon.” Then he clicked off the phone without another word.

“So…” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“They seem nice.”

He grinned. “They’re going to love you.”

“You really didn’t tell anyone about me?” She didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Oh,” he said. “I let your name slip once and B grabbed onto it. But… I didn’t know where we stood then, and I didn’t… I didn’t know.”