"Where is it? It was right here. Third shelf, fourth section. I know it was here!"

The crash of a heavy mahogany rolling ladder hitting the floorboards made me jump so violently I nearly shattered the crystal vase I was refilling. I didn't stop to think. I dropped the lilies—the scent was already making my head ache—and sprinted toward the sound. My heels skidded on the polished herringbone wood of the library entrance.

The room was a cavern of velvet shadows, illuminated only by the dying, orange embers in the massive stone fireplace. In the center of the wreckage sat Lucian. He was on the floor, tangled in a landslide...