17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
T aking the trash out of the back door, I move with heavy legs after a long shift. The bar was busy, leaving me and the other staff breathless and tired. Even the fifteen-minute break felt too short.
I'm on my third round of taking out the trash when I notice a dark figure leaning on my car, not far from the staff entrance. I throw the bags in the bin before making a sharp turn towards it.
"Hi."
It's a refreshing change to see him dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket instead of a tailored suit. It makes him more intriguing. I didn't know it was even possible, but the casual outfit makes him look tantalizing, like forbidden fruit. All I want to do is bite into it. Or in his case let him bite off a piece of me. No. Get a grip, Hailey. It's just part of his appearance to lure potential food. That's all you could ever be for him.
Swallowing the stone in my throat, I take a few more steps towards him.
"Hi," he replies dryly. When he’s closer, I scan his face for remnants of success or relief, but instead, it’s covered in frustration. Fear grips me tightly.
"It didn't work, did it?"
"I tried." I'm standing close enough to feel the waves of his frustration hit me. Dread settles in.
"Where were you?" I ask, having to know that he really tried everything.
"I went back to Black's casino. I asked him for the details of his supplier.”
"And he just gave them to you?"
"I already told you that everything comes with a price."
"What was the price?" I whisper, afraid of the answer.
"The price was the soul of a virgin."
What? I read about it in one of the books in Grandma's basement, but I didn't think it was possible. And it involved too much evil and cruelty to carry it out. No. That must be a mistake.
"Did you kill someone for this?"
"I didn't kill her. I just took a sufficient amount to get what I wanted."
I charge at him with all my might. I slam my fists into his chest, feeling my fear merge with frustration. It was never my intention for anyone to get hurt.
Without flinching, he grabs my hands, pulling me closer. "Would you stop?"
"What you did is far worse than killing," I whisper. "You left her empty. A shell."
"I did what I could. What I thought was best to get the information we needed."
"Did you find it?"
"It will take the contact about two months to get all the ingredients."
"So, it was for nothing," I realize as a wave of shivers invades my body.
"I told you, everything comes with a price. You didn’t want to sacrifice your family grimoire, and this is the price.”
"I did this." If I wasn’t so stubborn, this could have ended differently. "I did this." Stifling a breath, the tears I’ve been holding break free, washing over my cheeks .
He shakes me slightly before saying, "Look at me." His deep eyes call to me, mesmerize me, bewitch me to surrender under him.
"Don't," I blurt out. "Please.”
"Then stop it. I'm guilty. I'm the one who decided to do this. Now we have to move forward.”
"Don't you have a heart?"
"Is that a question or a statement?"
Ignoring his sting, I blink and say, "We don't have time to wait." I think about my granny. I can’t risk wasting more time.
"It leaves us where we were." I know what he means. but it hurts too much to say it out loud. I nod, and he loosens his grip.
“We should go,” John says, and I just nod again. He moves to the driver’s seat and I’m glad because the entire drive to Granny’s house, I feel sick to my stomach as I picture the disappointed look she’ll give me when she wakes up. If she wakes up. No. She will. She has to.
I'm not sure how long it has been, but after a while, John kills the engine. I look around and see Grandma's house down the road. I get out of the vehicle with chills racing down my back.
On shaking legs, I open the door and enter. I leave the door ajar for John and walk towards the basement.
Inside, the dusty smell mixed with herbs makes me exhale heavily as homely feelings sink inside me.
I turn left as my eyes scan the bookshelves.
It's been a while since I was in this room for this purpose. After failing time and time again, despair gnawed at me from the inside. It hurts so bad that any mention of failure threatens me like a non-healing wound.
Fortunately for me, now is an unhealthy mix of hope and fear.
My past failure no longer threatens my mental peace. Now, the situation is worse. My grandmother's disappointment overwhelms me like a black cloud from above. But I prefer her alive and angry with me than dead.
I find the book almost immediately. A silly smile sneaks on my lips. I take the grimoire off the shelf and look closely at it. I may not be able to use my magic, but I have always felt an unusual connection between the grimoire and my powers. It’s as if they communicate in their own language.
The cover of the book is made of faded brown leather. The cover is embossed with an encircled symbol of The Trinity within The Tree of Life. Above the emblem is ‘Knox Legacy’ in large font. There is no author.
The book is heavy and thick, but the magic it contains is much more than meets the eye. This grimoire is never finished because every generation since its first writing scribbles in it more and more, making it a unique book to my family.
Biting my lip, I remind myself again why I’m doing this. Why I’m forced to do this.
Turning around, I come face to face with John. His expression is a mix of wonder and a little impatience as he takes in my presence.
“This is it,” I confirm. Tightening my grip on the book, I spread my arm wide for him to have a better look. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
His eyes take in the thick book before he replies, “Yes, it is. Do you feel its power?” His question catches me off guard, and it takes me a few seconds to think about it.
Being this close to my family grimoire makes me feel calmer, more comfortable in my own skin. It’s like my fingers tingle with the thought of touching it, of opening it and skimming through the pages.
I feel a deep connection to the book. Is it enough to fill the absence of my magic? No. I still feel it in every fiber of my soul.
“Yes, I do,” I say sadly before shaking my head. “We need to go before I change my mind.” I push past him and up the stairs.
** *
Half an hour later, we’re standing outside the door of Kim's house. I slam my hand on the front door for the fourth time until I hear a tired voice coming from the other side. "Who is it?"
"It's Hailey. Open the door."
The lock turns and the door partially opens. From the other side, Kim emerges in a robe barely covering her body, and her tired eyes pop out. "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night.”
"I need the ingredients."
"Are you serious? Can't this wait until morning?"
"No. You need the book and I have it. I just need the ingredients.”
“You’re crazy. You can come to the shop in the morning like a sane person,” she mutters before moving to close the door.
With unnatural speed,John stops the door from closing before saying firmly, “Either you open the store now and give us the supplies we need, or you can kiss goodbye to any chance you might have had of holding such a powerful book.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you there,” she says before slamming the door in our faces.
The fifteen-minute drive to the store feels like an eternity as confusion washes over me. The thought of handing out the book awakens in me a longing I had never known before.
I step forward onto the path leading to the front of the store when the inside light turns on.
As I get closer, I see her figure more clearly. She is standing by the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, holding the door open with one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other.
I enter the store, and a jarring silence forms between us.
"We’d better get this over with." John's voice startles me, making me jump. For a moment, I forgot he was here.
“Yeah, we should wrap this up,” Kim says.
"Okay." I hold out the book and she hurries to grab it. Her eyes glow with excitement as pressure builds in my stomach. My mouth turns dry, and I find myself fighting to keep a hold of the book. Casting a pissed-off look at her, my knuckles turn white as my grip on my end of the book tightens .
"Give it to me," she demands. A wave of regret washes over me, and I find myself pulling the book closer to me.She loses her grip on it and a small victory wells up inside me. "Hailey, you have to let go of the book for us to save your grandmother," John whispers in my ear, making me shiver. My grandmother. What am I doing? Taking a deep breath, I hand her the book. "Just take it." Her smug face brightens. Pushing the anger aside, I move past her to get a better look at her ingredients shelf. "Now that is over, give us what we need and we will be on our merry way. "I already have everything you need in here," she replies, moving behind the counter. She pulls out a brown paper bag and waves it in our direction."That's all you asked for. It's all I have, but it should be enough for you." John reaches out to take the bag as realization dawns on me. "You knew we were coming to get it. You prepared it in advance. "You could say I knew you'd do something stupid like handing over your family book for another failed attempt to get your magic. You're not that surprising, just so you know." All I see is rage when I attack her or try to. John takes the bag with the ingredients and, with a speed that is still hard for me to understand, grabs me and pulls me back. "You should control your bloodwhore," Kim remarks, making me angrier. I want her dead .
"I hope you’re right. I hope everything is worth me giving up my grandmother’s grimoire," I say, my voice laced with resentment as we make our way to th ecar.
"It is. Think about all the possibilities you could accomplish with your magic back," John says, and my heart expands "You’d better be right,"I declare, looking deeply into his eyes. "If not, I will get you back the book myself." His promise hangs in the air, making me believe. "I can’t stand her. I want her dead. Can’t you just kill her?" “You don’t really mean that. "Oh, I do." "Okay," he says simply, his face devoid of emotion. Taking a step back, he starts moving towards the store, and I run to catch up. "What are you doing? You said you wanted her dead."
"Yeah, well… I didn’t mean that," I mumble. "I’m pissed at her, and if she finds her maker, I won’t cry. But I don’t want her to die by my hands or because of me," I clarify, not sure if for him or me. I sneak a confused glance towards the store, taking in her changing features, frightened but with confidence. "She's not worth it. Let's go." I turn to the car, ready to end it. The feeling that I must move forward shakes me hard.
We get in the car.
John pushes the bag to my lap before starting to drive. “You look sexy as hell. Likea goddamn fireball. You did the right thing back there. She truly isn’t worth it.”
I stay quiet for the rest of the drive.