by R. E. Butler
Kelly inhaled and let it out on a sigh. “Kind of both, I guess.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She really didn’t. But Margot looked so sweetly concerned, and out of nowhere, Poppy appeared, making a figure eight around Kelly’s ankles as she rubbed her cheek against her legs.
“I met a guy. A vampire.”
Margot’s brows rose. “I see. And what happened?”
Kelly filled her in on the ruse she and Selma had perpetrated, meeting Bellamin, going to his place, and then hearing how he really felt about humans who sold their blood.
Margot didn’t say anything for a minute, her brow furrowed and her pale green eyes full of concern. “Well,” she said, clearing her throat, “older vampires can have prejudices that can be difficult for them to shake. I remember hearing a vampire say that while they needed real blood to live, he’d never take a donor as a mate because it was like marrying a prostitute.”
“That’s the impression I got from Bellamin. That he liked me personally but hated the idea of me being paid food. I don’t understand why he would think less of me because of it.”
“Vampire males can be very protective and possessive of their mates.”
“I’m not his mate.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I... what? He mentioned something called a beloved mate, but he said that was special and only a few vampires in the coven had them.”
“I don’t know about beloved mates, but I do know that a male doesn’t spend hours making a lady feel special just for a one-time thing. He might have some prejudices, but he was clearly willing to overlook them. I wouldn’t take it so personally.”
“I can’t help it. He basically said I was a whore.”
“Well, maybe he’ll show up here and apologize.”
“I didn’t tell him where I work or leave my number with him. I don’t expect to hear from him again.”
Margot’s eyes narrowed, and Kelly had a feeling she could see right through the bravado. Kelly wanted to say she wouldn’t ever speak to Bellamin if he showed up and apologized, but deep in her heart she knew she would. She felt a connection to him that surpassed anything she’d ever felt for a guy before in her life. But she was going to leave it all up to him.
If he found out where she lived and came to see her, apologized for what he said and admitted he was wrong about everyone who donated blood for money, she might consider giving him a few kisses and letting him make it up to her. He made her feel sexy and wanted, and she ached all the way to the center of her being without him.
“Enough talk about vampires,” Kelly said, planting her hands on the counter. “I think there’s a box for me to go through.”
“Ah, yes! I’m very excited to know what’s in the box. I’ll be in the back cataloging a new shipment of romances. Call me if you find anything interesting.”
Margot swept by the front door, turning the old-fashioned sign to “open” before going to the storage room. Kelly found the box that had been left at the door on Saturday night and carried it to the reading corner, where a coffee table was surrounded by plush chairs and an electric fireplace chased the chill from the air. While they’d already opened the box and looked inside Saturday, she still took the time to inspect the exterior of the box, including taking photos with her phone to add to the documentation she would compile about the contents.
The label was addressed to the bookstore, but there was no return address and it hadn’t been mailed, simply set at the door at some point. She thought back over that night and remembered the last hour of the evening had been dead with no customers, so she figured someone had dropped it off after the last customer came and went, otherwise someone might have mentioned it when they walked inside.
If Margot had invested in security cameras they could see who left it. But she hadn’t, so they didn’t.
Kelly opened the box, pressing the sides down so they stayed open and she could see inside, then snapped some pictures before setting her phone on the coffee table. Then she opened a drawer and removed a small pad of paper and a pen. One by one, she took out the books, writing down the title and author, and if there wasn’t one, what the book looked like.
The last book in the box looked old. She lifted the large, heavy book out, grunting at the sheer weight of it. The cover was made of smooth leather and embossed with strange symbols, and a metal latch locked the book, but there didn’t appear to be a key or a keyhole to unlock it.
“How odd,” Kelly muttered.
“What is?” Margot asked as she came into the main room carrying a stack of books.
“This,” she said, gesturing to the heavy book on the table. Margot set the books on the counter and joined her, sitting in a chair and leaning over.
“Oh my, this looks old,” Margot said. She laid her hand on the book and hummed.
“Do you recognize the symbols?”
Margot traced a symbol lightly with her fingertip. “No. They kind of remind me of ancient Wiccan, but I don’t think that’s what it is.”
She stood and disappeared into the stacks, returning with a book about ancient supernatural languages. Margot compared the two books, and finally said, “I don’t think this is ancient Wiccan, but I honestly can’t tell for sure.”
“Do you know someone who could figure it out?”
“Not off the top of my head. We could take a picture of it and put it online, see if anyone knows what it says.”
“That’s not a bad idea.”
“There’s a unique book club website I belong to. I’ll give you my login information and you can upload it.”
“Maybe someone knows how to open it too.” Kelley put her finger on the latch.
“Well, if it’s magical, it might need a phrase to unlock it. Usually if there isn’t a key or a lock, it’s magic.”
“Curious.”
“Indeed. Now let’s look at the rest.”
It turned out that while the other books in the box were old, they weren’t nearly as old as the mystery book seemed to be. Of the ten books, five were about cooking, one was about horse husbandry, and four were what Margot liked to refer to as “bodice rippers.”
“These’ll float your boat,” Margot said, setting the dusty romance novels on the table. “If you like that kind of thing, anyway. Would you like to read one?”
Kelly looked at the title of the top book. “The Scoundrel and the Maid.” She glanced at her boss who was smiling. “I’m not sure if I want to read it or not. I spent last night with a scoundrel.”
“Ah, a little too close to home, huh? Well, this one is about a pirate and a maid.”
“Maid like cleaning lady?”
“Maid like virgin, I think.”
Kelly wrinkled her nose. “I prefer my heroines with a little experience.”
Margot chuckled. “You might like it.”
“Well, you’ve never steered me wrong.” She took the pirate book and set it on top of the mystery book. “Should I catalog and shelve the others?”
“I think you can put them on the bargain table for a couple bucks a piece and see if we have any takers.”
“Will do.”
The day eked by, and Kelly’s mind waffled between Bellamin and the mystery book. On her lunch break, she logged onto the website Margot suggested, Antique and Unique Books, which was owned by a bookstore of the same name in England. She uploaded the pictures she’d taken onto a message board asking if anyone recognized the book or the symbols.
Turning her attention to the book, she ran her hand over the symbols again, following the loops and swirls that seemed to be the title of the book. The spine was ridged with decorative metal bars and the same symbols as on the cover. She lifted the book and turned it over to inspect the back, when something cut her finger. She dropped the book in surprise and inspected her fingertip, seeing a tiny cut.
She grabbed a tissue from a decorative box on the table to press into the cut and turned the book over with her free han
d. One of the symbols began to pulse and brighten, and she had to shield her eyes from the glow. It faded as suddenly as it started. When she’d blinked the stars from her eyes, she was surprised to see that the symbol had changed into a word that she could now read.
“Key.”
Chapter Seven
Kelly called Margot to the break room and showed her what had happened to the symbol.
Margot’s eyes narrowed and she hummed a few bars of a tune that Kelly didn’t recognize as she leaned over the book. “Key, huh? How did it happen?”
“I was holding it and something cut my finger, and then the first symbol changed.”
When Kelly met the gaze of her boss and friend, she scooted back in her chair in surprise. Margot’s eyes, which were normally a pale green, were now bright like spring grass.
“Margot?”
Then Margot’s hands whipped to the sides suddenly, and Kelly could hear windows and doors slamming shut. Fear crept into her heart and her skin tingled with goose bumps.
Putting both hands on the mystery book, Margot jerked them away with a gasp. “I was afraid of that.” She rubbed her hands together and Kelly could see that they looked red as if they’d been burned. Straightening, Margot blinked rapidly a few times and shook her head. “This isn’t good.”
Kelly swallowed hard. “What’s going on? Why are your eyes weird and how the heck were you able to close the shop up with your hands like that?”
Margot settled in a chair with a deep sigh. “Look at the finger you cut.”
Kelly unwrapped the tissue she’d used to cover the tiny wound. Her eyes widened as she stared at the location where the cut had been. In its place was a delicate silver mark, a vine with tiny leaves, covering her finger from tip to base. She touched it with her other index finger and found it didn’t feel like there was anything on her finger at all but it looked like a metallic tattoo.
“Where did this come from?”
“I thought the symbols on the cover of this book looked like ancient Wiccan, but they weren’t. I couldn’t find a translation for any of the symbols. The reason the cover is unreadable is because it’s been magically protected to be readable only to the Key Keeper. That’s you.”
“The key-what-now?”
Margot pursed her lips. “Do you know anything about Wiccans?”
“Not really.”
“There’s an old adage that when twin Wiccans are born, one will be good and one will be evil. Generally speaking, the power of a Wiccan is neither good nor evil, it’s neutral like nature. What a Wiccan does with that power, however, is what makes it lean one way or the other. Because they’re twins, if one Wiccan turns their power toward darkness—using it for selfish gain, harming people with it—then the natural balance will force the other twin to be good to compensate.”
Kelly rubbed her finger and the weird metallic mark. “What does that have to do with what happened to my finger?”
“I’m a twin and I’m Wiccan. My sister Amanda and I were part of a coven in West Virginia. Our mother was a powerful corner for her coven, and Amanda and I were also corners. We’d agreed as teenagers to stay neutral so our powers wouldn’t have to be balanced. Then I met a vampire named Restik. We dated for a few months before he asked me to help him out with magic, but what he asked for would have required me to tap into dark magic. I refused and barely escaped with my life. Then he abducted Amanda. It took weeks for our coven to find her, and when we did she was a shell of the person she was.”
“What did Restik do to her?”
“I don’t know all the details, but he tortured her to get her to perform dark magic for him. She gave in to save herself, but she didn’t realize that once a Wiccan embraces evil, that the darkness would forever change her. She aged considerably, she had long, gray hair and she looked like she was a hundred years old. Her aura was dark and dirty, and we didn’t find any spark of goodness within her. We tried binding and cleansing spells, but she was too far gone. All we could do was banish her from our coven and prevent her from harming any of us.”
“That’s awful. What happened to her?”
Margot rubbed her chin. “Restik used Amanda to infiltrate the vampire hate group The First Church of Humanity. She said she’d help them figure out who the vampire mates were so they could go after them. They didn’t know that she was aligned with Restik, and that he was using their group to try to kill a Wiccan named Arissa, who’d caused some problems for him. Amanda was killed by Restik during the battle at the Cleveland Wiccan coven’s store, and Restik was killed by Arissa’s mate Brone.”
“Okay,” Kelly said, drawing the word out. Then she tapped the book with her fingertip. “What does all of that have to do with this?”
“Restik was obsessed with power. Mishka’s a collector of antiquities, and he had in his possession a book that’s supposed to contain information on the oldest and wealthiest coven in the history of vampires. It’s titled Book of Aramnapor. The problem is that the book is unreadable. It’s been around for millennia and no one’s been able to translate it. Mishka gave the book to Restik to keep him from bringing war to the Cleveland coven’s door, only because he didn’t think he’d ever be able to translate it. It was long believed that the book itself had a key that would allow it to be translated. That book is titled Key of Aramnapor, and it can only be used by the Key Keeper, the one person who can unlock the book and use the key to decipher the original book.”
“Are you... what are you suggesting?” Kelly asked, looking at the book and then her finger, before finally looking at Margot.
“That you’re the Key Keeper.”
“I’m not special, I’m just human.”
“It’s undeniable that you’re unique. What does that first symbol say?”
“Key.”
“Right. To you it says that. But to me it still looks the same.”
“Really? But it’s not the same at all.”
“You can read it because you’re the Keeper. The translator, if you will.”
“But if Restik is dead, and your sister too, what does it matter if I’m the translator for the book if the main guy who cared about it is gone?”
“Even though Restik is gone, his coven still has the Book of Aramnapor, and the new master—a male named Danlier—took up the search after Restik died. There isn’t a vampire master on the planet who wouldn’t want to uncover the secrets of the book, but in order to do that, they’d need the Key Keeper, and that’s you.”
Kelly felt the weight of Margot’s words settle on her shoulders and tears stung her eyes. “What am I supposed to do? What’s going to happen to me?”
“Nothing, if I can help it. Did you post the book on the website?”
“Yeah.”
“Take it off. I don’t think anyone will know what it is, but just on the off chance someone recognizes it, it’s best to get it down as soon as possible. In the meantime, I’m going to make a protection ward for you.”
Kelly stood to go to the laptop at the counter but paused. “My blood will unlock the book?”
“Yes.”
“If I put my blood on the symbols I’ll be able to read them?”
Margot nodded. “Once the other symbols are changed by your blood, it will unlock and you’ll be able to read the entire thing and you won’t have to use blood to do so.”
“If it’s dangerous for me to have this book because someone might try to use me to read it for them, then can’t I just destroy it?”
Margot shook her head. “It’s indestructible.”
“How did it even get here? We don’t know who dropped it off. What if someone knew I’d be able to unlock it?”
Fear twisted her insides, making her want to throw up or run away. Maybe both.
“There’s no way to know who left it here. I don’t think there was any malice with it, probably someone cleaned out an attic or something and didn’t realize what it was. But the legend says that the Key will find its Keeper. But here’s the danger
ous part, Kelly. Someone could come after you to get access to your ability to read the book. They could torture you or even hurt your sister or friends to get you to comply.”
“Holy shit!”
“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. For now, no one knows that you’re the Keeper and I’ll ensure it stays that way.”
“I don’t want this, Margot. I didn’t ask for it. How... how did this even happen?”
“Somewhere in your family history is a link to the Aramnapor coven. The Key ability was passed down to you.”
“What about Selma? Is she a Keeper too?”
“There’s only one in each generation. If the stories are true, anyway. For now, put it out of your mind as best you can. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
She wanted to believe that Margot would be able to keep her safe, but she was utterly overwhelmed. She’d woken up that morning worrying about Bellamin, and now she’d discovered she was some kind of supernatural book reader.
She should have stayed in bed.
Chapter Eight
Tuesday night couldn’t come fast enough for Bellamin. He’d been unable to sleep well and was up and ready before the sun set. He paced in his living room, waiting for the automatic shutters around the building to open, signaling the sun was down for the night and it was safe for vampires outside. The moment the mechanics in the shutters began to grind, he was out of his apartment and inside the elevator, his finger punching the button for the lobby and willing the cab to go faster. He jogged across the street to the club, skirting around the front to the side entrance and the employee parking lot. He scanned the lot, looking for Selma. The food, he’d learned, didn’t have to be out on the floor until an hour after sunset, so they had a window of time to get to the club.
Walking into the check-in room, he greeted Denny.
“You’re back, I see,” he said, checking in a human male.
“Yeah. Has Selma shown up yet?” He tried to hide his impatience, but he was hanging on by a thread. He’d spent the last thirty-six hours thinking about her. Now that it was finally Tuesday night, he couldn’t wait to see her.