I grinned at Julian and he winked.

While he went outside to hail a hackney cab, I changed into a dark blue dress, braided my hair so that it hung over one shoulder, and shoved what I needed into a satchel. Kissing my mother on the cheek, I hurried out into the chill air where my co-star was waiting. Taking his arm, I scrambled up into the carriage.

“Le Chat?” Julian asked.

I shook my head. “After. There’s somewhere we need to go first.”

One dark eyebrow cocked. “Oh? Where’s that?”

“Pigalle.”

His other eyebrow shot up to join the first. “Pigalle? Curses, why would you want to go there?”

“There’s something I need,” I said, waiting for him to argue, but he only shrugged and gave the instruction to the driver.

“You won’t tell her where we went, will you?” I asked as the horse started trotting down the street. “She’ll lock me up for the rest of my life if she finds out.”

Julian tilted his head from side to side in a parody of extreme thought. “I suppose not. It wouldn’t really do for me to have a prisoner for a co-star. But in exchange for my deception, I expect you to pay for all my libations tonight.”

“As much as you can drink.”

“Then off to Pigalle we go.” He clapped his hands together. “Which isn’t something I’d ever thought I’d say.”

“Wait here,” I said to Julian as I slipped out of the hack. “I won’t be very long.”

It was very dark in Pigalle, the moon little more than a sliver in the night sky, but I still looked up and down the street to see if anyone was watching, before going to the door and knocking. Moments later, I heard footsteps, and the door opened.

“I told you never to come back!”

Catherine tried to shut the door to her shop in my face, but I threw my shoulder against it, forcing my way in before Julian could take notice. “I have questions that need answering.”

“I don’t care. You need to leave.” The sticky scent of absinthe was heavy on her breath, and she was unsteady on her feet.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what I need to know.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Pulling her grimoire out of my satchel, I held it up. “I think you do.”

Catherine’s eyes bulged as she recognized the book. “Thief!” she shrieked, lunging at me as though to claw my eyes out.

I dodged her drunken swipe at my face easily, but prudence made me retreat a few paces lest she try again. “Here,” I said, holding the book out at arm’s length. “I’m giving it back.”

She snatched it out of my hand and clutched it against her chest. “You’re going to get me killed.”

“That isn’t my plan,” I said. “I haven’t told anyone about those spells, and I have no intention of doing so. If you help me.”