I reread the notes three times. Where had they come from? When had this happened? I retraced my steps, trying to figure out when I’d abandoned the picture. There’d been no writing when I showed it to Dante. The most likely time would have been while I was out for food. Someone could have also theoretically broken into my home and done it while I was with Carter in the living room, but sneaking past the angel seemed pretty out there.

Unless . . . was it possible Carter had helped me after all? He kept saying he couldn’t; he’d even directly denied involvement with my assorted rescues. But the timing here was awfully coincidental. I kept staring at the symbols, at the notes, and the pictures of the seal. Whoever had written this was irrelevant for now. If their notes were correct, then I needed to use them to find Jerome.

Carter had said the seal served two purposes. One was to infuse the vessel with power. The other was to serve as a “lock” that could open the vessel and release Jerome. The parts of the seal itself were with the demon and the summoner, but the symbols should give some clues to the vessel’s location. Supposedly, these symbols would have been used in hiding Jerome, infusing the vessel with a type of energy specific to the location that would help blend and mask Jerome’s presence.

An affinity with the earth, as well as markings for water—salt water, specifically. A lot of places that were infused with power tended to be wild, natural places, though some had become centers of civilization and activity. Pike Place Market in downtown Seattle, for example, was one such ancient place of power that had been completely built upon by humanity.

But these . . . what did they indicate? Some place near salt water, apparently. The vessel was probably close enough to the water that the symbols would resonate and camouflage its location. And the earth location? Buried in the dirt maybe? Was Jerome buried on some beach near the ocean? Jerome’s kidnappers wouldn’t want to keep him too far away from them, but nonetheless, the Pacific flanked the entire western half of Washington. That was a lot of beach, and I knew there were a lot of places of power along there. I didn’t know of any white sand beaches anywhere in the area; only further investigation could say for sure.

Groaning, I lay back on my bed, still holding the picture. The notes had only narrowed down the locations, but that was still a lot of area to cover. Yet what could I do? I had to find the vessel, sooner rather than later, or else Seattle was going to have a new archdemon. Studying the photo further, I willed it to give me some more info. Nothing. Just the medallion, the mystery notes, and Mary’s cataloging info at the top which told me little—