The section about the Diadochi I’d forgotten that day said something about invincibility. Our book referenced a prophecy from an oracle saying that whichever of the Diadochi—Alexander’s successors—was in possession of his body would never be conquered. They’d be invincible. Vying for his body—and his tomb—was the cause of centuries of war between the Diadochi.

“Wait wait wait,” I said. “The Circle are the Diadochi? Alexander’s successors?” The most powerful people in the world two thousand years ago had descendants who were secretly the world’s most powerful people today? And the prophecy we’d learned about in history class was part of the Circle’s mandate? No wonder Jack had known how to answer Mrs. Lindley’s question.

“Smart girl!” Luc patted me on the head like a dog learning a new trick. “Where do you think the word for twelve comes from in so many languages? Dodici—‘twelve’ in Italian. Duodecim. Doce. Dodeka. Sound like Diadochi, right?”

“Oh wow,” I whispered.

Luc grinned wider. “Then you’ll really be impressed with this. The twelve months of the calendar. Inches in a foot. Hours in a day. Zodiac symbols. The ‘twelve’ aspects of those all came into being around 300 BC, just around when the Diadochi took over.”

I glanced around the club. I couldn’t believe he was saying all this so openly, so loudly, in such a public place. Someone could overhear. But so what if they did? No one would believe it. I barely believed it.

“So the Order’s after the treasure, too?” I said, because the rest of this was too much to contemplate.

“Again, yes and no. They want the riches in the tomb, yes. But besides wealth and power, the tomb is also rumored to contain a weapon. The mandate says it’s so powerful that it will ‘vanquish the greatest enemies.’”

Like Jack had said at Prada.

“And so they want the treasure and to keep this mysterious weapon from the Circle.” I was starting to get it now. “What is the stuff about the Order attacking the Circle?”

Luc’s arms tightened around my waist. “The newest assassination yesterday—the oldest son of the head of the Sony Corporation in Japan, in that awful hotel fire? Horrible.”

Assassination?

“And the Russian prime minister’s son. I did not know Sergei well, but the plane crash was a tragedy. Malik Emir’s death, too. He was a good man. A friend.” Luc’s eyes glinted. “I hate that the whole world thinks it was just militants killing an unimportant Saudi prince.”

Something about the death of a Saudi prince had been on the news last time I was at home, right before my mom told me about the new mandate. “You knew him?” We were barely dancing now, swaying just enough to not stand still. We’d ended up just below a stage, and a mass of arms waved above us. I suddenly felt very small. “The Order killed him?”

Luc nodded. “Since we don’t know who the One is, the Order is trying to take out anyone that could be him.”

That’s why he had said at Prada that the Order could have been after him. “So is everyone in every family a possibility? Are they planning to kill them all one by one?”

“I suppose any male member of the families is a possibility. Like any act of terrorism, it’s partially a scare tactic,” he said. “And partially blackmail. If we agree not to carry out the union, they stop killing us.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“I know,” Luc said. He untwisted my arms from around his neck and led us away from the ever-more-crowded center of the dance floor. “And of course we can’t allow the news to report it as anything more than accidents.”

“Yeah,” I said vaguely. The fact that they could dictate what the news covered hardly surprised me.

“It appears the Order is going to more effort now because of my mother’s pregnancy,” Luc continued over his shoulder. “We hoped they wouldn’t learn that one of the twins is a girl, but it’s leaked.”

Maybe they learned about it the same way they learned about me, however that was. If they were going to that much trouble to kill people who might possibly be the One, they wouldn’t let me go for sure. My dress, or my skin, suddenly felt too tight. I watched the revelers around us out of the corner of my eye. So it was true. Both these groups who started wars and assassinated world leaders had very good reasons to want me.

I found myself looking around for Stellan. Because I was afraid of him, or because I was afraid of everyone else, I wasn’t sure.

Luc grabbed a neon-blue drink off a waitress’s tray. “Now do you understand why I’m not mourning a couple of dead Order members?”

Disturbingly, I kind of did. And I was starting to think more and more that maybe hiding out for an extra few hours on the street was better than staying here waiting for the Order to find me, or for the Dauphins to figure me out.

I glanced around for an exit, but Luc took my hand. “Let’s not talk about it anymore.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m tired of it, love. Let’s have fun.” His grin looked more forced than it had earlier.

I studied the layout of the club again as we made our way across the dance floor. There were the front doors we’d come in through, and another door nearby that seemed to lead to the back of the club. When we got to the bar, Luc let go of me.

“Did you see we got Clancy Campbell?” someone with an American accent said.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ve got our eye on a thirteen-year-old from Brazil,” said Luc. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Luc shake hands with the guy and clap him on the back.

I leaned on the bar, pressing my palms to the cool, glossy surface. Breathe. Think. I didn’t see any immediate threat. I shouldn’t run off yet. A steaming pink trough ran down the center of the bar, and I passed my fingers over the dry ice, letting the cold pull me out of my head.

“That’s not going to win you Champions this year,” the American guy said.

Luc chuckled stiffly. “Want to bet?”

“You just want to win back Guam.”

“It was my favorite,” Luc whined. “And that bet wasn’t fair.”

Guam? I turned around and my heart stuttered yet again. Luc wasn’t talking to a random friend named Liam. He was talking to Liam Blackstone. And . . . yes. There at the bar, ordering something pink, was Colette LeGrand, her famous curves on display in a cleavage-baring boho lace dress. Luc’s friends Liam and Colette were Liam Blackstone and Colette LeGrand. Li-ette. At least, that’s what Us Weekly called them when they were on the cover every other week.