Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Icould tell it was a grimoire the moment I put my hands on it. The book was bursting at the hand-sewn seams with energy. I didn’t try to open it in the Voodoo Lounge — there were too many people watching — and instead clutched it to my chest.
“Thank you,” I said to Blaine, although I didn’t mean it. The only reason he’d given us the grimoire was because he didn’t have a choice. Lilac really was that terrifying.
“I would say don’t mention it, but I’m not that giving of a person,” Blaine replied. There wasn’t an ounce of friendliness to his expression. “I’m guessing you guys don’t want a drink.” His intent was obvious. If you’re not drinking, get the hell out.
I offered him my sunniest smile in return. “You’re a real charmer.”
“I can be as charming as the next guy,” Blaine replied. He grew bolder now that Lilac wasn’t flashing fire. “Would you like me to show you my charm?”
“I’m good,” I replied.
“She’s definitely good,” Galen agreed pointedly.
Blaine shifted his eyes to my fiancé, seemingly debated how much he wanted to save face in front of his clientele, then gave a sarcastic bow. “It was nice seeing you.”
We could have marched out without a backward glance. Instead, Galen tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the counter and placed his hand on my back to usher me in front of him.
“Thanks for the tip,” Blaine called to our backs.
Once outside, Galen gestured to the grimoire. “Can you open it?”
I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see. Not here though.” I shook my head. “We should take it back to the lighthouse.”
Galen bobbed his head and glanced at the others. “I can fit three of you in the truck if you don’t want to walk.”
“It’s three blocks,” Booker replied. “We can manage.”
“Great.” Galen’s smile was mischievously bright. “Pick up some lunch on your way.”
Booker scowled. “You did that on purpose.”
Galen’s smile didn’t diminish.
“Lunch will be fine,” Lilac interjected, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. “We’ll get sandwiches from the bar. Give us about thirty minutes. Don’t try opening that until we’re all together.”
There was a warning tone in her voice. “Do you know what this is?” I held up the leather-bound journal.
“No, but everything we know about Declan suggests we won’t be reading warm and fuzzy bedtime stories. Just wait until we’re all together. It will be safer.”
“Don’t bring me a fish taco for lunch and you have a deal.”
Lilac snickered. “One of these days I’m going to make you try one.”
My lips curved down.
“Not today,” she promised. “Today we have other things to focus on.”
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, the crew was gathered on the patio. The grimoire sat on the metal coffee table, all eyes on it.
“It looks kind of creepy,” Aurora said, cocking her head. “Is that leather?”
“Yes,” I answered definitively.
“That’s not leather,” Lilac countered, her nostrils flaring. “That’s skin.”
I glared at her. This was not the first magical book bound in skin I’d come into contact with. “One of these days it’s going to be leather,” I muttered.
Lilac smirked. “Most dark books need something evil to bind the magic inside.”
That threw me. “I assumed it was a diary.”
“Yes, because serial killers often keep diaries,” Aurora said on an eye roll.
I shot her a dark look. “They do.”
“Name one.”
“BTK.” It was the only name that came to mind. “Dennis Rader kept a journal of his kills. That’s how they got him.”
I felt Galen’s eyes on me but refused to look. “How do you know that?” he asked.
“I know things.” I stared elsewhere.
“How?” he repeated.
“I happen to be a very smart woman who researches a great many things.”
“How?” he said one more time.
I made a disgruntled sound deep in my throat. “There was a Dateline.”
“Ah.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s my girl.”
“He’s not the only one,” I said, turning to stare at him. I should have left it alone — I was out of my element — but my mouth often got away from me. “There was … .” I searched for anything to throw at him.
“Westley Allan Dodd,” Lilac volunteered. She had her phone out. “Melvin Rees. Ooh, his killer name was The Sex Beast. I don’t want to know why.” She kept reading. “David Berkowitz, the Son of Sam killer. Leonard Lake, who apparently did terrible things with a partner.”
She lowered her phone. “It appears Hadley is right about serial killers leaving diaries.”
Aurora swished her lips. “She took a shot in the dark.”
“She was right.” Lilac gave Aurora a quelling look before glancing at me. “I can see why you thought it was a diary, but it’s definitely bound in skin.”
“Lovely,” I muttered. “What kind of skin?”
“Not human,” Galen replied. He leaned forward and sniffed. “Doesn’t smell like demon either.”
“It kind of smells like vampire,” Aurora said. “Not exactly like a vampire but sort of like a vampire.”
“Dhampir?” I guessed.
Aurora lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “A decent guess.”
For once I wasn’t happy to be right. “I doubt it was made from Declan’s skin.”
“Something tells me it was somebody else’s skin,” Aurora agreed. “That suggests it was sought by Declan. Maybe he was using it in his quest for immortality.”
“Is there a legend of an immortal dhampir?” I asked.
“I have to imagine there is,” she replied. “There are legends of immortal witches and shifters. Why not a dhampir?”
I glanced at the book for a lingering moment. “You don’t think the book will come alive and try to hurt us once we unlock it?”
The question made Galen grin. “Is it any wonder I love you more than anything?” he crooned.
“I’m serious. I’ve heard about that stuff happening.”
“In something other than a book or movie?” Aurora challenged.
I did not appreciate her attitude. “I know things. Haven’t I already proven that?”
“You’ve proven that you can commit Dateline details to memory,” she replied.
I jerked my gaze away from her and focused on Galen. “She’s being purposely difficult.”
“I know, baby.” Galen sounded legitimately sympathetic but I knew better. He was enjoying Aurora giving me a hard time. “She’s been that way since the day she was born.”
I wasn’t going to get sympathy from this lot. I focused on the book. “Let’s just get it open. If it’s not going to eat us, there’s no reason to drag this out.”
Galen’s hand rubbed my back and nodded.
I reached for the book. My first inclination was to try to open the lock. Weirdly, there didn’t appear to be a keyhole. “What sort of lock is this?” I asked after I’d flipped it over to look no less than six times. “Where does the key go?”
“Do you have a key?” Booker asked. He acted as if he was being reasonable but I knew better.
“No, but perhaps I can find one if you tell me what sort of lock this is.”
“We don’t know,” Galen replied. He held out his hand for the book. “May I look at it for a second?”
It wasn’t that I felt proprietary about the book. It wasn’t mine, and I felt no connection to the dhampir. But I balked all the same. “Are you sure this book can’t eat you?” I asked.
His grin was so wide it dwarfed his other features. “I swear it.”
Grudgingly, I handed it over.
Galen ran his fingers over the metal contraption, keeping the book closed, his eyes fixated on the seam. He flipped it over, just as I had, then frowned as he flipped it again. “It is a weird lock,” he acknowledged.
“But did you feel as if the book wanted to eat you?” Booker pressed.
Galen skewered the cupid with a glare. “Stop giving her a hard time.”
“Sometimes I can’t help myself.”
I didn’t need Galen to stand up for me. I could do that easily enough on my own. The book definitely felt off, however. I couldn’t put into words how it made me feel.
“Let me see it.” Booker took the book before Galen had a chance to respond. When he tried to force the book open with his hands, I snatched it back.
“Don’t ruin it,” I admonished. “You’ll rip it apart.”
“At least we’ll know what’s in it,” Booker shot back.
“We need to be able to read it,” I reminded him. “Besides, how do you know it won’t protect itself?”
“Oh, so now the book has feelings,” Booker drawled.
“Do you not feel the emotions emanating from this book?” I challenged.
Booker continued smiling before it slowly started to dissipate. “Are you saying you feel emotions emanating from the book?”
“Don’t you?”
Booker looked at me, then down at the book, then back up at me. He was an air elemental. His mind magic was fierce. If anybody should have picked up on emotions, it was him. Yet I was the one feeling it.
“Do you feel anything?” Lilac asked him a few seconds later.
“No, but if Hadley does … .”
“You guys are freaking me out,” Galen said. “What aren’t you saying?”
I wanted to know too. I was trying to pretend I was on top of things, however, so I waited.
“If Hadley feels a kinship with the book that might mean she has a strong tie with the individual who created it,” Aurora explained.
I balked. “I don’t feel a kinship with anyone.” My voice sounded screechy.
“Thanks, baby.” Galen patted my knee. “Good to know.”
I could not soothe his frayed nerves when I was freaking out. “I don’t feel a kinship with anyone that I shouldn’t,” I growled. “I just … no.” I wagged my finger for emphasis.
“Okay, she is downright adorable,” Booker said on a grin. “Cute as a button.”
I was going to start smacking people if they weren’t careful. “I think I’m done talking to you guys.” I kept the book cradled to my chest as I stood. “I’ll figure a way to open it.”
“Because you feel a kinship with it?” Aurora challenged.
“Because it has to be opened. I don’t feel a kinship with a killer.”
“We don’t know for certain that’s Declan’s book,” Galen pointed out. “All we know is that Declan was interested in it. He may have wanted it because it was his or because of what it could bring him.”
I didn’t like that option either. “We need to get it open.”
He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “Trust me, I get it.” His gaze moved to the book, then back to my face. “Do you hear it whispering?”
It was only then that I realized what they were really talking about. I loosened my grip on the book and looked at it. “It’s not talking to me like the trap. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“But you do feel something,” Galen insisted. “Explain what you’re feeling.”
It was difficult putting my thoughts about magic into words. I didn’t have the same references the others did. I hadn’t grown up on a magical island. Everything was still new, framed by my experience growing up in a non-magical family.
“Do you feel a hum?” I asked. “I don’t hear any noise but I sort of feel it.”
“What does it feel like?” Booker asked. He was no longer messing with me.
“I just told you,” I groused.
“I don’t mean that. Does it feel evil? You can tell the difference between white and dark magic.”
Warmth suffused my cheeks. “It’s evil. There’s no doubt about that. It’s thinking evil thoughts and feeling evil feelings. Books can’t be conscious but it feels as if it has emotions.”
“That could be a remnant of whoever created it,” Aurora mused. “They could have infused a part of themself into the book. Whoever it was might not have even done it on purpose.”
Everybody fell silent and stared at the book. I was the one — of course — to break the silence. “What do we do?”
“Open it,” Aurora replied simply. She gestured for me to stand. “No one person can do it. It will take all of us.”
She meant elemental magic. She wanted to use all of our magic to open the book.
“Do you think that will work?” I was hopeful.
Aurora bobbed her head. “It’s safer if we do it together.”
“The book won’t try to bite us,” I surmised.
Rather than make fun of me, she grinned. “That’s the goal.”
On an exhale, I nodded. “Just tell me what to do.”
It was a simple spell. Galen positioned himself at my corner. Brody did the same with Aurora. Booker and Lilac were spaced away from one another.
I extended my magic first. That allowed Booker to shape it before Lilac and Aurora jumped in. Our magic flashed hot the second it joined. Then it diminished to a pink wave as it coursed between us.
The magic built, slowly and steadily, and the hum from the book was eclipsed by a different sound. As it built, I knew we were on the right track.
Then, finally, the metal contraption separated on its own and spread. The magic died almost immediately, and I stared down at the book I could now open.
“That was kind of exciting,” I murmured.
Galen clucked his tongue. “More exciting than me?”
“Of course not.”
“She’s placating you,” Booker teased.
Galen gave me a wink. “She’ll feel bad about it later and give me a special massage to make up for the slight.”
I tuned them out and crossed to the book. Before anybody could admonish me not to touch it, I did. The energy was still present, though it seemed calmer.
“Well?” Booker prodded when I finally flipped it open.
I studied the first page. Then I flipped a few more. I couldn’t help being disappointed. “It’s in another language.”
Booker moved closer, looking over my shoulder.
“Is that Latin?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I think that’s Romanian.”
“Romanian? Why would it be in Romanian?”
“Depending on who you talk to, vampire lore was created in Romania.”
“You’re saying we need a vampire to read this?”
Booker nodded again.
Thankfully, I knew where to go to solve that problem.