Chapter 17
Monday morning, Orion and I end up sitting in the car across the street from Crescent Moon Books.
Orion adjusts the brim of his baseball cap. “Don’t you think this was a bit overkill?” he asks.
I peek over the rim of my oversize sunglasses. “It works in the movies.”
He rolls his eyes. “Are we going to sit here all day, or are we going in?”
My brother begrudgingly agreed to stake out the bookstore with me after Gramps reminded him what’s at risk. Our eighteenth birthday is a week away, and the full moon is right on its heels. I’d be here with or without him, but I’m glad he’s with me. I’ll never admit that to him, though.
We both duck down as the lanky dark-haired guy I saw with Aria the other day unlocks the front door. A few minutes later, the neon Open sign in the window flares to life.
“What’s the plan?” Orion asks. “If we stroll in like regular customers, they’re going to clock us immediately.”
“I don’t even know if we can go in,” I muse aloud. “I’m pretty sure I destroyed the ward, but I’m not sure if I got everything or if they’ve placed new ones.”
Gramps was adamant that we need more evidence to take to the Council before we can make a move. While I seem to have hit a roadblock with Joelle, I refuse to let the Hightowers outsmart us. No one else has been sickened since Mr. Peterson, but that doesn’t mean the threat is over.
“Let’s try to keep a low profile when we go in,” I say. “Keep an eye on the guy at the register while I snoop around the store.”
“Don’t you mean ‘if’ we make it in?”
I sigh and tuck my sunglasses into the cup holder. “I’m trying to be positive,” I say. “Let’s go.”
We cross the street and loiter near the café next door until a couple strolls up to the door of the bookstore.
As we follow at their heels, the hairs on my arms prickle with magical energy.
An intense sensation of nausea overcomes me briefly before my stomach settles.
Beside me, Orion’s face is scrunched as his nausea subsides.
“What was that?” he asks through our bond.
“Lingering traces of the ward. It was meant to deter us.”
“Yeah,” he says. “They almost did the job.”
My lips part as I peer around at what must be the prettiest bookshop in New Orleans.
The walls are covered in floor-to-ceiling bookcases, stuffed to the brim with vintage books.
Some look to be in pristine condition, while others are yellowed with cracked spines.
Tall candelabras pepper the store, providing warm lighting and a massive fire hazard that couldn’t have possibly passed inspection.
Baskets of plants and winding vines add a pop of color to the space.
Off to the side, a wrought-iron spiral staircase leads to the second floor. According to a sign, that’s where the new releases are kept.
There are only a few customers wandering around the stacks this early in the morning. But that also means the guy at the register isn’t paying as much attention as he would if the store was busier. He has his back to us, flipping through a stack of papers.
Orion and I walk down one of the aisles. “They ward it from other witches but not from mortals,” I remark. “This place didn’t seem to be short on customers the other day, but I’ve never heard anyone talk about it.”
Orion shrugs. “Sorry to be the one to break the news, but you don’t actually know everything.”
I roll my eyes. “Remember the plan. If I’m not back in ten minutes, come find me.”
“Wait.” He grabs my sleeve. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t want to attract too much attention, you know?”
“Just browse. Stick your nose in a few books. Act like you actually know how to read.”
He shoots me a dirty look, but I shrug it off. “I’ll be back. If he heads in my direction, let me know.”
Orion gives me a thumbs-up. “I’ve got this. Don’t worry.”
For some reason, that makes me worry even more.
I make a lap around the bottom floor, searching for anything out of the ordinary. There’s a door marked Employees Only, but it’s locked. Once I’ve explored every nook and cranny, I head upstairs. After walking down a few aisles, I realize there’s no one else up here. I’m completely alone.
My eyes rove around the space, absorbing every detail I can.
Every single inch of space is covered in shelves and filled with books.
There are cookbooks and memoirs and the latest fantasy novel about dragon riders.
I can’t help but drag my finger along the spines.
I’ve barely had a chance to read since this whole mess began.
Life has done everything in its power to stop me.
I pause a moment, trying to think of the last book I read, but the title escapes me. There are so many books in the world that I’d never be able to read them all, but the thought of not having enough time to read even one more is like a punch in the gut.
I slip a copy of Legendborn off the shelf and bury my nose between two of the pages. They smell fresh and crisp, straight off the printers. Old books smell the best, but there’s a place in my heart set aside for new books, too.
Tucked away in a dimly lit corner, a section of books is blocked off by a black rope. A sign hanging from the rope says Restricted: Ask for Assistance.
Secrets are precisely what I’m looking for.
I lift the rope and crouch underneath, letting it fall behind me.
Quickly, I approach the first bookcase and drag my finger along the cracked spines.
Some of the titles aren’t in English. I recognize one as French and another as maybe German or Dutch.
One is written in ancient runes that I have no hope of translating.
The other shelves are more of the same. I’m beginning to lose hope that I’ll find anything useful.
I shut my eyes and call on my intuition to guide my hand.
A feeling draws my gaze down to the bottom shelf.
I kneel down on the carpet to peer at a thick leather-bound book that sends alarm bells ringing through my head.
A spider darts into a crevice as I pull the book from its place on the shelf.
The title is printed across the front cover in gold foil that glimmers in the shadows. The Compendium of Demonology.
Blood rushes to my head as I gingerly open the front cover. A message is written in cursive script in the margin of the title page.
Dearest Gloria,
Your mother was one of the most courageous, hardworking women I have ever known. She would be proud of all that you have overcome and all that you have done for your beloved family. I pray this will offer you the protection you seek and assist you in your quest for retribution.
Love,
Your godmother
My vision tilts as the word retribution flashes before me. This may not be direct proof that Gloria has targeted us, but it does prove that she has knowledge of demons—and that she has a vendetta against someone.
Before I can change my mind, I grasp the book with both hands and whisper, “Disappear.” My fingers tingle as I focus all my strength on glamouring the book.
After a pause, its pages grow translucent in my hands.
I stuff it deep inside my backpack, beneath my wallet and keys.
Anyone who reaches inside my bag will feel it, but no one will be able to see it without reversing my invisibility glamour.
After slipping my arms into the straps, I stand and take a peek around the other shelves. While there are a few more books written in English, they aren’t anything out of the ordinary, just spell books and lists of herbs and potions.
As I’m headed to leave, Orion’s voice grips my mind. “Mikaela, they know.”
I take off at a sprint, ducking beneath the rope and darting into a nearby aisle. From between the shelves, I peer out and see a large man stalking up the steps. His biceps strain the fabric of his shirt, and his nose is crooked and red as if it’s been broken a time or two.
A brunette in a moss-green blouse and jeans follows at his heels. Her hair is held back with a gold headband, so I have a full view of her face.
Aria.
“Ri, where are you?”
When I peek back toward the stairs, they’re gone. I make a run for it, but a meaty hand grasps the strap of my bag and yanks me backward. I land hard on the carpet.
The muscled man sneers at me. “Not so fast, little witch.” His canines have been filed into sharp points.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and rack my brain for a spell I can use to get myself out of this, but my mind goes blank.
Aria steps out from behind the man with her fists resting on her hips. “You must be Mikaela.” Her voice is nearly devoid of emotion except for a hint of amusement. Her eyes are lined in green, and her lips are a shade of blush pink.
She extends a hand to me, but I don’t take it. She shrugs and tucks her hands into her pockets. “What’s a Witch Queen doing in my family’s bookshop?” Her eyes narrow.
How does she know that? No one else should know about my ascension. We don’t exactly go advertising our business to other covens.
She and the massive man share the same cold blue eyes. But where he’s all sharp edges, her features are delicate, from the slope of her nose to the angle of her jawline.
“Where’s my brother?” I demand.
“Follow me.” She turns on her heel, and the man grasps my arm and yanks me to my feet. Over her shoulder, Aria says, “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
Getting caught wasn’t in the plan, but there’s a silver lining to this. Now I’ll have my chance to face down a Hightower witch. If I play my cards right, I might get her to tell me the truth, or at least evidence damning enough to satisfy Gramps.