Chapter 20 #2
“Am I able to use your magic?” I asked. He’d withheld a lot of the benefits he’d acquired from our binding, leaving me to wonder if he’d done the same for any benefits I’d have. “If I wanted to leave the house of horrors, could I just will it?”
He shook his head. “The magic connection is unilateral. I’m still testing the extent of my abilities with you.”
“How flattering that I’m the one to encourage you to flex your magic muscles.”
He directed me out of the kitchen to the infamous hall and the diabolic décor that held new meaning since my personal interaction with Diehle.
Waving his hand over the space, he said, “This is not a house of horrors but one of limitless possibilities.”
He grinned, heading for the kitchen into which he disappeared for several minutes, returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
He beckoned me to follow to where he placed the bottle on the coffee table.
He moved through the house with familiarity, leaving then returning with a charcuterie board of breads, meats, cheeses, olives, and berries.
He uncorked the bottle and filled the glasses.
He handed me one; I inhaled the decadent scent of plum and spices before I took a sip.
“Relax, we’ll be here for a while.” After taking a long draw from the glass, he nudged his chin toward the food.
Planning on a lazy night, I’d forgone lunch and hadn’t even considered dinner.
I’d surrendered to the idea of feasting on the popcorn and anything I could scavenge from my nearly empty fridge.
The food looked good. Standing over the board, I ate faster and more than I intended. Within minutes, a third of it was gone.
“Should I make dinner?”
Quickly shaking my head, I thought that although he might have felt at home in Diehle’s home, I didn’t.
After a long drink from my glass, I glanced at the bottle’s label. From its exquisite taste, I was sure I wouldn’t be purchasing it. Soon to be jobless, indebted to the shadow god, I was going to have to be frugal with many things in my life: money and time.
“Why are we here?”
Glass in hand, he walked silently to the living room and stopped in front of the bookshelves. “Almost every spell can be circumvented with the right magical object or the right counterspell. If there is a way to unlock your magic without the Spellrend, I believe it can be found here.”
“You’d have a better idea than I would. Why do I need to be here?”
The dark amusement had returned. “I can find it, but it will need to be tested on you.” Stepping back, I scoured the room for quick access to weapons. How fast could I get to the knives in the butcher block?
His eyes turned cold, and anger flooded them. “Will I have to spend my time here avoiding your attempts to hurt me?”
I responded with silence. His dark chuckle sent chills through me. “Then I’ll be forced to defend myself.”
“I won’t be your guinea pig,” I snapped.
“Kara, is your defiance out of habit or principle?” His large steps devoured the space between us.
“Is this what the vampires find fascinating about you? You are no good to me hurt or dead. Nor do I want it. Having you here with me is the most efficient way. If we unlock the spell, we can immediately release the lycans.”
Emotion fading from his face made it hard to anticipate what to expect next from him. I was never prepared for the fusion of emotions any mention of the lycans and Goddess Annessa evoked.
Quickly turning from me, he scanned the various titles in languages I couldn’t speak or understand. I stood next to him.
“What am I looking for?” I asked.
“Anything related to spellbreaking, curse reversals, or ways to unbind a person from a spell,” he said, taking a book from the shelf.
“I can’t believe he keeps—kept,” I modified, “such powerful magic books out in the open.”
“He had no fear that anyone would take them from him, and they were a source of pride and a tool of persuasion to anyone who sought his help,” Cirrian offered. Desperation would do that. Books that no one else had, or books in dead and often forgotten languages, were status symbols.
“The darker and more questionable books are hidden away,” he admitted. “I hope we find what we need here because spells from those books tend to be global spells. I fear it would undo the restrictions on you all.” An act that he seemed hesitant to do.
“If we are here, then you’re admitting that you don’t believe we’ll find another ashinwa or a way for me to go through Spellrend?”
“Not at all. I’m taking advantage of an opportunity that wasn’t easily available before. If we fail here, we have other options.”
“Okay, but once I release your werewolves, my obligation is fulfilled and you must release me from our binding.”
Cutting his eyes to me, he said, “I fear your use of the word werewolves is a true underestimation of what exist in the Umbryth.”
“Do they have a human form?”
He nodded.
“And they shift into a four-legged doggy-like creature, right?”
He chuckled. “Not in that sense.”
“Dangerous scary wolfy-type creatures. Got it.”
His soft, melodious chuckle filled the room. “I will miss our connection. There’s a certain comfort in it that I appreciate.”
“Is it because it’s painful for you, too?”
His expression changed, and he took hold of my arm more aggressively than the gentleness of his expression suggested, his thumb running gently over the mark.
“Am I hurting you when I do that?”
I shook my head. “It’s not painful. But I’m very aware of the sensation, especially when you whisk me away from home in my pajamas.
” My smile didn’t ease his concern. “It’s fine.
” Withdrawing from him, I made my way to my glass of wine and took a long drink from it.
“I’d like to make another request of you. ”
He returned to the coffee table, finishing off his glass. “You’re making quite a few requests. Does it have anything to do with preserving the life of Amelia’s mother, Vina?”
My grip on the wine glass tightened to subdue some of the trembling.
“What?” I spluttered out. “Vina?” I couldn’t begin to command the acting skills necessary to pull that off.
“I knew who Amelia was the moment I saw her.”
“So you didn’t save her for me, but for you. To correct Vina’s wrong?”
“It was an action that had dual benefits.” He’d never give me a moment of reprieve from knowing he was calculating and manipulating at every turn. “I would like to find her, and I believe her daughter will be useful for that. You don’t realize the problems she’s caused.”
“It’s not Amelia’s fault.”
“Did I give you the impression that I believe it is?” His eyes were piercing as they held mine.
He hadn’t. I was quickly growing tired of playing verbal gymnastics with him. His indecipherable face gave me nothing to go by.
“Don’t just whisk me away like you did earlier, okay?” I told him, draining my glass and quickly returning to the shelves.
“As you wish. I won’t do so without telling you first,” he said with a finality and evasive timbre that felt like a distinction without a difference.
“You need to ask me before you do it,” I pressed.
I took his deep murmur as tacit agreement.
After hours of poring over the books without success, I took a break, shoring up the courage to reexamine Diehle’s artifacts and objects.
Not that I believed they’d help. It was just hard not to be drawn to their macabre and dark surrealness.
Curiosity made me wonder about their history, uses, and even how he’d acquired such terrible and strangely beautiful things.
Drawn to the crystal decanter containing the gravity-defying moving liquid, I didn’t hear Cirrian’s approach.
“I’d be mindful of what I touch and stare at for too long.
” It was the same warning he’d given me the first time.
“Nothing here will help, and I’d prefer not to use our time undoing the havoc these objects may cause.
We need a spell, not Diehle’s morbid collection of charms, talismans, and artifacts,” he said.
He turned to return to the living room, his arm stretched behind him, his fingers spread as an invitation to place my hand in his.
“You don’t have to tether me to you. I’m not going to run away, no matter how terrifying the things in this house are,” I teased.
“That is the least of my concerns, Kara.” His fingers waggled insistently. I linked mine through his, and he guided me back toward the living room. Getting a glimpse of Diehle’s pond, I slowed.
“The mer-creature. What will happen to him?”
“I’ve fed him today. I’ll continue to do so until Diehl’s absence is discovered. His replacement will be responsible for his care.”
Recalling the rows of sharp teeth, I knew it wasn’t a vegetarian diet that sustained him. Cirrian studied me.
“Once we are done with Diehle’s home, there will be many competing for this territory. Which is why we should finish today.”
After another half hour, his defenses appeared to relax, but his optimism had waned as he placed another book on the small stack I’d determined was the possible pile.
His eyes lifted to meet mine, cool and calculating and unamenable to questions. In one fluid sweep of movement, he was gone. He returned with the wine and two bottles of water. Handing me the water, which I quickly emptied, he refilled the wine glasses.
Taking the empty water bottle from me, he handed me the wine glass. I placed mine on the side table next to us, suspecting we didn’t respond to wine the same, and I needed a clear head. He finally took a seat on the sofa opposite the stack of unhelpful books on the floor and table.
“Cirrian.” I waited for him to look at me, and when he didn’t, I moved closer, angling my body toward him. It took an exceptionally long time for him to acknowledge my presence and answer me.
“Yes, little minx,” he said, avoiding eye contact by resting back against the sofa and studying the ceiling.
“I want to know more about the war and the werewolves—”
“Lycanthropes,” he corrected.