01_-_The_Alchemyst

boil through him. The stench of smoke, burning plastic and melting rubber
was abruptly concealed beneath the stink of sulfur, and his hand took on the
appearance of a golden metal glove. Dee punched straight through the door,
practically ripping it off its hinges, and flung himself out onto the cement
floor.
He was standing in the underground car park of Enoch Enterprises, the
huge entertainment company he owned and ran in San Francisco. He
scrambled back as his hundred-and fifty-thousand-dollar custom-made car
was quickly consumed by fire. Intense heat fused the front of the car into
irregular clumps of metal, while the windshield flowed like candle wax. The
Golem driver was still sitting at the wheel, unaffected by the intense heat,
which did nothing but bake its skin to iron hardness.
Then the garage’s overhead sprinkler system came on, and bitterly cold
water sprayed down onto the fire.
Perenelle!
Soaked through, doubled over and coughing, Dee wiped tears from his
eyes, straightened and used both hands to douse the flames with a single
movement. He called up a tiny breeze to clear the smoke, then ducked his
head to peer into the blackened interior of the car, almost afraid of what he
would find.
The two Golems that had been sitting on either side of Perenelle were
now nothing more than ash. But there was no sign of the woman—except for
the rent in the opposite door that looked as if it had been hacked by an axe.
Dee folded to the ground with his back to the ruined car and beat both
hands into the filthy mixture of mud, oil, melted plastic and burnt rubber. He
hadn’t secured the entire Codex, and now Perenelle had escaped. Could this
day get any worse?
Footsteps tip-tapped.
From the corner of his eye, Dr. John Dee watched as pointy-toed,
stiletto-heeled black boots came into view. And he knew then the answer to
his question. The day was about to get worse: much worse. Fixing a smile on