His dark brows knitted. “Of course you aren’t. And I can’t apologize enough for not telling you sooner that I knew about your gift. It’s just that I wanted to make sure the rumors were true, and I wanted you to trust me. I’m not interested in you as a curiosity or a whim. I truly believe fate brought you into my life. Fate brought us together,” he insisted, reaching out unexpectedly to trace her jaw with the tips of his gloved fingers. “You’re not cursed, Hadley. You’re blessed. Let me into your life, and I’ll prove it.”

His hand curled around the back of her neck. He leaned in before she could pull away. Cool lips pressed against hers, unyielding and insistent. Tobacco and the strong scent of bay rum smothered her senses as a keening anxiety turned her muscles to stone.

Everything inside her screamed no! And that was enough to tear her out of her panic. She shoved at his chest and stumbled backward, wiping her mouth on her coat sleeve. Good God. If she ever had any doubt about the lack of spark between them, she certainly didn’t now.

Wrong man. Absolutely the wrong man.

Jaw slack, he blinked as if dazed for several moments. His chest heaved with labored breath. Then his mouth warred with a manic smile. “Oh, Hadley. My darling—”

“I’m late for an appointment.” She brushed by him and headed toward the waiting cab.

“If you give me a chance, I will give you the world,” he called out behind her. “And instead of suppressing your gift, you can be what you were born to be.”

What exactly he thought that was, she didn’t bother to ask.

 • • •

Lowe followed Dr. Bacall’s butler through a drafty Russian Hill mansion. The old man sat in a wheelchair on a closed-in porch that overlooked a sizable backyard for this part of the city, and, in the distance, San Francisco Bay, shrouded in dusk. A fine view, no doubt, but the blind man couldn’t see it. And yet he faced a large window as if he could still picture it all, a plaid blanket over his lap and a cup of steaming tea in his hands.

The servant announced Lowe.

“How are you, m’boy?” Bacall said, seemingly glad for the company.

“I’m sorry to bother you right when you’ve just gotten home from your workday, but I was hoping you might have a minute to answer some questions.”

“Sit,” the man said. “I’ll be glad to help however I can. Tell me about the search while you’re at it. Do you have good news?”

Lowe pulled a wicker chair closer to Bacall and tossed a glance toward the door to ensure servants weren’t lingering. “I’ve found the second crossbar.”

“Indeed?” Bacall grinned. “That’s marvelous!”

“Yes, but I’m a little worried about looking for a third piece.” Lowe set his hat on his lap. “Someone nearly killed me. I’m being tracked, and not in the usual manner. Someone’s using a very specific kind of magic to try to steal the crossbars.”

The man stilled. “What do you mean?”

“Someone who has the power to manifest mythical Egyptian chimera.”

The surface of the tea inside Dr. Bacall’s cup wobbled, but he didn’t answer.

“When my sister-in-law channeled your wife, her spirit warned me to keep the amulet away from Noel. I’m going to take a wild guess and assume this is your old excavation partner.”

Bacall nodded. “Noel Irving.”

“Perhaps it’s time for me to know exactly why you want the amulet so badly and what it has to do with this man.”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Won’t I? I was nearly burned alive by an Egyptian fire goddess. And before that, a griffin tried to peck my eyes out. So maybe you’d better tell me who I’m dealing with so I have a better idea about what kind of magic I’m up against.”

After using one hand to find a side table by touch, Bacall set his tea down with shaky fingers. “Tell me, Mr. Magnusson. Do you believe a woman can be in love with two men at the same time?”

Lowe’s jaw tightened. “No, I don’t.”

“I once shared that sentiment.” Bacall sighed deeply and leaned back in the wheelchair. “But I suppose I should start from the beginning. Back when Noel and I were still friends, in the late eighteen hundreds, he was terribly interested in the occult, and dabbled in magic to mixed success. Little spells to increase our luck in finding treasure, or to create light in a dark tunnel—nothing extraordinary. Though, looking back years later, I often wondered if he used a love spell to coerce my wife into sleeping with him. Or maybe that’s just my pride talking.”

Lowe shifted in his seat, feeling extremely uncomfortable. “I’m sorry.”

“You and me both. But they were lovers for several years. I suspected, but didn’t know for sure until 1898. I left Noel to watch over Vera in Cairo while I traveled for a month. When I came back, I found them both seriously ill with a local infectious disease. They needed Western medicine but were too weak to get out of bed, much less travel. The local doctor said they had days to live, if not hours. Noel begged me to fetch a witch he’d met on our previous trip.”

“And you did?” Lowe asked in a quiet voice.

“I felt I had no choice. Vera was several months pregnant with Hadley. If she died, I’d lose them both.”

“Christ.”

Bacall shifted in his wheelchair. “So I tracked the witch down. She said she could save them from death, but there would be consequences. You don’t upset the natural order of things without paying a price.”