Chapter 21
“Okay, let’s see what we have here,” Olivia says matter-of-factly, moving Sam’s hand away from where he’s still applying pressure to my wound. She glances at the now closed demon trap. “I’m guessing whoever gave you this was related somehow?”
“What makes you say that?” I hiss as she prods the deep tear in my skin.
“A centuries old demon trap suddenly springs open, and you’re the only one around here bleeding all over the floor?” She raises a brow. “Call it a hunch.”
“Cousin.” I grit my teeth as she lays her palm over the uncovered wound.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes sympathetic and her tone sincere.
I wince in pain. “Several times removed. Didn’t know him.” I suck in a sharp breath. “Never met him before he decided to stick a knife in my ribs.”
Olivia gives a small smile. “You’re lucky your cousin has shitty aim.”
“Not sure it was luck.” Even though words are still a struggle, my pain is lessening, which makes me wonder what this woman is doing. “I’m pretty sure he was planning on taking his time carving me up after he got his pet demon under control.”
Sam hisses. “He’s lucky he ended up in that fiery pit or I’d be carving chunks out of him with his own knife.”
“Easy there, tiger.” Olivia huffs. “Trust me, whatever is happening to him down there is way, way worse than anything you could do.”
“That does make me feel marginally better,” Sam grumbles. I try to reach for him, but my limbs still feel a bit numb. “Shouldn’t we be taking Harrison to a hospital? And not being funny, but I don’t think you should be touching an open wound with your bare hand.”
She snorts in amusement. “Harrison, is it?” I nod. “I’m gonna need you to hold still and try to relax. The more relaxed you are, the quicker the magic will work, okay?”
I nod again. She takes a breath and her eyes glow. A warmth begins to spread through my body, centred around the wound and my stomach.
“Huh, he did make a bit of a mess. What did he use? A steak knife?” Olivia looks down at my stomach as she continues to press her warm palm to the wound. “While everything is knitting back together, why don’t you tell me how you ended up getting stabbed, and why your blood is tied to a demon trap.”
I draw in a tired breath. “Both me and Issac were descended from a family named Crawshanks. I don’t know where they originated from, but they lived in India for a while during the height of the British colonial empire before coming to London and settling in this property.
There were three siblings. A boy by the name of Cornelius who was a very famous—or rather, infamous—Victorian medium, and his two older sisters.
Cordelia, the eldest, who was a witch, and Constance, the middle sibling.
She was very powerful too, from what I understand, but very kind and quiet.
The eldest daughter, Issac’s ancestor, had stolen a book of magic. ”
“A book?” Olivia’s brow piqued in interest. “What kind of book?”
“I’m not sure exactly.” I shift again, feeling another pulse of warmth through my belly. “But from what I understand, it contained very powerful magic. Cordelia called it The Book of Lala Khal, and she used it to raise the demon, although I’m not convinced she ever had any real control over it.”
“What makes you say that?” Her gaze sharpens.
“Just a feeling,” I admit. “And something Issac said.”
“What did he say, Prickles?” Sam asks, and something in me relaxes a tiny fraction. We still need to talk about my lies, but the fact that he’s still calling me Prickles must mean something.
“Prickles.” Olivia chuckles. “Oh my god, you guys are too cute, but go on.”
“Apparently, the demon knew the moment I was conceived, right here in this building. Issac wanted to kill me while my mother was still pregnant, but the demon wouldn’t let him.”
“Wouldn’t let him?” she repeats, her smile fading.
“That’s what Issac said,” I reply. “The demon said I had to be born.”
Olivia’s expression shifts into something I can’t quite put a name to.
“What?” Sam asks in concern. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Olivia stares at me thoughtfully. “This book? The Lala?—”
“The Book of Lala Khal,” I correct.
“Yeah.” She nods. “What happened to it?”
“I don’t know. Cordelia’s siblings, Constance and Cornelius, must’ve managed to take the book from her somehow, before she could do any more damage, then used it to trap the demon. After that, I couldn’t say where it ended up.”
I shift again uncomfortably, only this time there’s no pain, just my arse being numb from laying on the ground propped up in Sam’s arms. I glance down as Olivia removes her hand.
The symbols on my skin are gone, leaving me as pale and freckled as ever, and while the wound has not disappeared completely, it is healed, leaving a small, puckered scar.
“Sorry about that,” Olivia says. “I’m not really a healer. It was the best I could do. You’ll always have the fading scar, but everything on the inside is as it should be.”
“Thank you,” I whisper hoarsely.
Now that Olivia’s magic is no longer warming my healing body, I shiver, very aware of how exposed I am. But before I can say anything, Sam removes his suit jacket and wraps it around me.
“Thank you,” I mutter, still swamped with guilt. I don’t deserve the care he’s giving me right now.
“You’ll be fine,” Olivia says. “You’ve lost a fair bit of blood. With anyone else, it would probably have been a trip to the ER and an emergency blood transfusion, but that’s the beauty of magic. You’re in no danger of dying unless you’ve got any other homicidal distant cousins on the loose.”
I frown. “I really hope not.”
“What does he need?” Sam asks. “Are you sure he’s going to be okay? Not to downplay your magic mojo or whatever, but what if he takes a turn in the night?”
“Takes a turn in the night?” I scowl. “What am I, a ninety-year-old? I’m perfectly fine.” I push away from him and sit up, but as I do, my head spins and I sway.
“Whoa, take it easy,” Olivia says, and I feel both her and Sam’s hands rest on my back to steady me. “Blood loss, remember? It wouldn’t hurt to have someone with you tonight though.” She looks at Sam.
“Don’t worry, he won’t be alone,” Sam says quietly, but from the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, I can tell he’s not happy. Not a surprise.
Olivia nods. “Give him plenty of water to drink. He needs to rehydrate. Also getting some food into him would be good, nothing too heavy, and rest. Above everything else, he needs to sleep.”
“He’s sitting right here,” I say waspishly.
Olivia grasps my chin with warm, gentle fingers. I’ve just watched this woman appear out of thin air, stuff a demon back into Hell, and heal my internal injuries without so much as breaking a sweat, and now she’s watching me with a kind of big-sister amusement.
“Honey, you need to take care of yourself,” she says in a firm tone. “You and I are going to be spending some time together.”
“What? Why?” I ask in confusion.
She smiles and reaches for my hand. Lifting it between us, she turns it palm up. I watch curiously as she places her hand above mine. The space between our palms suddenly crackles with magic, with tiny little microbursts of brightly coloured fire and pulses of energy sparking.
“What the?”
“Magic, Harrison, is not as common as you’d think.
There are plenty of witches in the world.
They understand magic, they respect it, some of them even flirt around the edges of it, but there are very few who actually possess it.
Even fewer who naturally have the kind of gifts we do.
There is so much power inside you. It’s raw, undisciplined.
” She studies my face. “You remind me so much of myself before I met Theo.”
“Who’s Theo?”
“My husband,” she answers. “Anyway, like I said, there are few witches with true power. Like it or not, you are part of a very select group, and trust me, we take care of our own.”
“Olivia?” I say, drawing her attention back to me. “What did you mean when you said you were a guardian? What’s a guardian? And what was that other thing you mentioned? Infernum? That’s a Latin word that means Hell, isn’t it?”
“It’s another long story and it’s getting late, but I’ll give you the short version if you like.
” I nod. “Once upon a time, before the beginning of…well, time. There were five books. These were no ordinary books and no one really knows where they came from or how they came into being. But they contained within their pages power and magic beyond your understanding. The books were so powerful that they each developed an awareness. I don’t mean they were fully sentient beings, but they had a consciousness.
Not quite fully developed, sometimes quite primal and almost childlike. ”
“I’m not sure I understand.” I frown.
“It’s okay.” Olivia shakes her head. “I didn’t either, at first. Like I said, there were originally five books. Infernum, the Hell book. Caelum, the book of the heavens. Purgatorio, the song of purgatory. Spiritus, the book of the spirit realms, and lastly, Terra, the book of Earth.”
“What happened to them?” Sam asks, his eyes narrowing in interest.
“Well, that’s the question.” Her lips curve. “Infernum is mine. It came into the possession of my bloodline hundreds of years ago. My ancestors hid and protected it while it waited for its guardian to claim it.”
“Each book has a guardian, then?” I ask.
“It’s a triad,” Olivia replies. “There are always three. Each book has a guardian and each guardian a protector. Theo is mine. He was pulled through time from seventeenth-century Salem and literally dropped in the middle of the road in front of my car.”
“Are you serious?” Sam blinks.
“Oh yeah, damn near ran him over too.” She laughs. “A seventeenth-century witchfinder and a twenty-first-century witch. It wasn’t easy at first. Nothing worthwhile ever is.”
“Yeah, I think we can relate to that,” Sam says as he looks at me.