Booke of the Hidden

by Jeri Westerson

  He still held out his hand, with the knife gleaming in the other. I swallowed hard, looking around at the others. The humming was getting louder and they were beginning to sway. The smell of the sage was getting to me. There was something else infused with it, but I couldn’t tell what it was. It was making me light-headed.

  Scared but hopeful, I cautiously offered my hand.

  He took it and gave it a squeeze of reassurance, along with a fatherly smile. Suddenly, I began to panic. What did I really know about these people? They all seemed innocent enough, but here I was standing in a chalked pentagram with a knife-wielding plaster doctor, entrusting my flesh to him, and the rest of them were humming. I almost longed for the reassuring sneer of Erasmus Dark.

  Doc’s fingers flipped my hand up, palm facing him. He lowered the sharp tip of his knife to the pad of my finger and flicked the blade. The momentary sting seemed to awaken me and I tried to pull my hand back, but he kept a tight grip and moved it over the “Aether” symbol, squeezing my finger so the blood dripped onto the chalked surface.

  I saw my blood, dark red, blotch the wood and felt a wave of nausea. He kept hold of my hand and murmured, “You’re doing fine, Kylie.” He seemed to direct me over the tendrils of smoke rising from the sage bundle. Involuntarily, I inhaled it, and strangely, it calmed me, at least enough that I wasn’t struggling in his grip anymore. Vaguely I wondered if there was some sort of hallucinogen in it. Doc wouldn’t do that, would he? Again, the sense that I really didn’t know these people made my stomach queasy.

  Doc cleared his throat, and spoke loudly and clearly. “Spirit of Good Omen who will come to aid me, believe I have great need of thee. I beg of thee now to enter this circle, that in this house offer thy protection when anything is needed by your daughter Kylie, that she can call unto thee: be what it may, do not abandon her by night or day!”

  I didn’t know what I expected. Another thunderclap, maybe. A puff of smoke? But when all eyes darted toward the Booke, so did mine. It shuddered, flopping on the desk. My look of fear at Doc Boone made him shake his head. Great. He wasn’t sure if it was helping or harming either.

  The Booke trembled violently and then stilled.

  The room felt unnaturally quiet. Even the crackling of the fireplace seemed muffled.

  Jolene’s strained voice rang out and she pointed at the floor. “Look at the chalk line!”

  It was glowing. Doc kept a steady pressure on my hand. “Don’t move, Kylie!” he rasped.

  The urge to flee was strong, but I stood where I was. No one moved. Everyone just stared at the pentagram, which glowed a bright bluish light. The light seemed to rise, washing over us and disappearing right up into the ceiling with a splash of brightness. Then all appeared normal again.

  “Was that it?” asked Nick breathlessly.

  “I suppose so,” said Doc. “To tell you the truth, that’s the first time that happened.” He made an uncomfortable chuckle and released my hand at last. I shook it out. I didn’t think he realized just how tightly he had held on.

  I sucked on my sore finger and stepped gratefully from the pentagram. “So…does that mean we’re protected now?”

  Seraphina, eyes closed, nodded. “Yes. Yes it does. I feel it.”

  “Oh, God,” sighed Nick. “There she goes again.”

  She snapped open her eyes and glared at him. “Well I do!”

  “Guys,” I said, sinking into a chair. “I can honestly say I think she’s right. Something here changed. Didn’t you all feel it?”

  Slowly they nodded, exchanging cautious glances.

  Jolene settled her hands on her thighs and beamed. “This is way better than any club at school.” She shook her head in disbelief and nudged Nick, urging him to help her clean up the smoking sage and other items, carefully stuffing them back into her Hello Kitty bag.

  Doc walked slowly around the room, running his hands over my walls and shelves. With wonderment in his voice, he said, “I really do think it’s safe now, Kylie.”

  I flopped back in my chair. “Oh, good.”

  “That vortex does worry me, though. Jolene, have you done any research—”

  She gave him a withering look that sharply cut off his sentence. She flipped the tablet from her bag and laid it on her lap as she settled into a chair. “Right here.”

  Everyone gathered around, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at my new companions. Mere minutes ago I doubted their sanity and their intentions. But I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of camaraderie pouring off of them in waves. I did feel safe. Maybe it was the “spell.” Maybe it was something else.

  “It’s a gateway,” she said. I looked down at her tablet, where she was reading from some handwritten notes she had made with a stylus. “At least it sounds like one. It only opens at certain unknown times.”

  Nick pointed down to her handwritten notes. “What does that say, Jolene?”

  “The ‘Chosen Host.’ That’s what I keep finding in conjunction with vague references to a book. The Chosen Host is the one who can close the book. That’s you,” she said, pointing to me.

  I cringed.

  “So where does Mr. Dark come into it?” asked Nick. “Is he from the vortex?”

  “No,” I said, staring at Jolene’s scrawl written in digital magic across her tablet. “I think he’s from the Booke. He’s like the guardian of the Booke or something. And he wants the Booke closed. He said the Powers That Be want it closed. But they don’t want to destroy it. Where does it even come from?”

  “He’s a demon,” said Seraphina. “He lies.”

  “I know. But not about this. The Booke…” I glanced back at it. “It gives me little clues. Though I’m still scared of him,” I admitted quietly. Still, that wasn’t quite the whole truth. I was scared of his power, of what it could do, of his intentions that I couldn’t quite fathom. But I was also scared of my attraction to him, and the flicker of reciprocated attraction I saw in his eyes. I had been angry with him today, but I had fantasized just a bit, too. The intensity of his glare, his long-fingered hands, well-formed lips, that rumbling voice and even his ridiculously posh accent. If he had been a human stranger, he’d definitely be fair game to dream about. But as a demon? I had no business thinking the things I’d been thinking. Why couldn’t I daydream about that sheriff instead? He was drool-worthy. And I did want to see him again in a non-murder-accusation scenario. But there was something about Erasmus. That bad boy thing, maybe? Just like my last boyfriend. Jeez, Kylie, what’s with this self-destructive behavior?

  Seraphina sidled up to me, bracelets clanking. “You don’t need to be frightened of him. You’re protected now. And we’re here.”

  “But you’re not here all the time. And he comes and goes when he pleases. Though I made him pretty mad today. He might not be back.”

  “He’ll be back,” said Doc. “He needs the book.”

  “There’s no escaping him, then,” I said wearily. Part of me was annoyed. But another was unreasonably excited. The guy was bad news…but when had that ever stopped me? “Just to be on the safe side,” I said, going to the buffet. “I made these for you guys.”

  I pulled out the little pouches on silk strings. I handed one to each of them.

  “What’s this?” asked Nick as I draped it over his head. The string was long enough that the little pouch hung to his chest. “Is it a charm to ward off evil?” He lifted it and scrutinized it. “Cool. You did this yourself?”

  “It’s not magic,” I said. “It’s tea.” I handed the next one to Doc and then another to Jolene. “Erasmus is allergic to tea. It’ll keep him away from you guys.”

  “What about you?” Seraphina asked, putting the string over her head and fixing the little cotton bag in place among her other necklaces.

  I shrugged. “I have his amulet. I don’t think he can hurt me while I’m wearing it.”

  “Yes!” said Jolene. “It’s a pretty powerful piece.” She got her fingers close to it but wouldn’t tou
ch it. “And the way that you got it means it’s a powerful deterrent. He really can’t hurt you while you’ve got it. But…” She chewed on her lip.

  “But?”

  “You will eventually have to give it back. And then…”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t help but touch it. It felt warm in my hand as always, like it was infused from the inside with a hot coal. Well, think about where it came from, Kylie! “Maybe I don’t have to give it back…”

  But she was shaking her head. “You do. There will come a time when you have to. I guess you’ll know that time. And that’s when you’ll be your most vulnerable.”

  “That doesn’t sound very promising.”

  “I tried to find out more.” Her fingers squeezed the edges of her tablet so tightly they whitened. “But there just isn’t any information. There’s a scroll in Sumerian, but my ancient Mesopotamian languages are a bit rusty.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  She quirked a smile. “I’m looking into it.”

  I had a hunch that she wouldn’t let it go, like a dog with a bone. I felt better about that.

  I kept looking at Jolene.

  “I’m fine!” she said in an irritated voice. “No aftereffects.”

  “Well excuse me for my concern, but maybe you don’t know, since you were the one possessed.”

  “How about it, Doc?” asked Nick. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “I’m afraid medical science doesn’t cover this. But I’d be happier if you were no longer holding on to the scryer. Sorry, my dear.”

  Jolene made a face but reached into her bag and handed it over. He tucked it into his coat hanging on the hall tree.

  We all fell silent, until I said, “Thanks everyone. For everything.”

  Nick gave me a sheepish smile. “No problem. It was wicked interesting. And don’t worry about your floor. I can clean it later.”

  “Best leave it here for now,” said Doc, shrugging into his coat.

  “You’ll want the Craft to settle,” said Jolene. She grabbed her bag and slung the straps over her shoulder. “As for the succubus…”

  Oh, God, I’d almost forgotten about that.

  “I’ve been thinking.” She looked around at our anxious faces. “Let me do a little more digging and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “You’re welcome to come here again tomorrow evening. Or, you know. After school,” I told her. I felt obliged to keep an eye on her. It was my fault that something had been allowed to possess her.

  She brightened. “Cool. I can help you around here, if you want. You don’t need any hired help, by any chance, do you? My Dad said I’m going to have to earn my pocket money soon.”

  “Well, now that you mention it, I might be able to use some part-time help, I think.”

  Doc paused at the door. “Good. I’d feel better if one of us was here.”

  “I was here today,” said Seraphina.

  He nodded. “And a good thing, too. Well, good night, Kylie. That was some mighty fine chili you cooked up.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “I’ll bring Chinese tomorrow night,” said Nick.

  “Okay,” I said and smiled.

  He grinned back and stomped toward the door, following Doc into the night. Seraphina took my hand and squeezed it. “You’re doing fine, Kylie. I’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon, too.”

  “Great. The more the merrier.”

  Jolene was hard on her heels. “And I’ll be here right after school, around four.”

  “Awesome. Four is fine.”

  She nodded and took her knit cap with the animal ears from her coat pocket and slipped it over her head. “Bye!”

  The bell over the door tinkled as they all left. I locked the door behind them. I waved from the window and watched as their cars backed out and drove away.

  Quiet again. My hand was on the light switch but my gaze traveled over to the fireplace, whose crackling fire had dwindled down to glowing embers and ash. There was a chalked pentagram on my plank floor. And a splotch of my own blood. That was all that stood between me and a scary, evil vortex that did not want me to fulfill my obligations to some arcane Booke. Whatever I’d expected when I moved across the country to Maine, it sure wasn’t this.

  When I switched off the light, the glow from the fireplace cast reddish light over the pentagram. I knew it was protecting me but the sight of it still creeped me out, especially when I thought of the humming and the blood. I looked at my finger, trying to see the little slice in the darkness. It still stung and throbbed a little, but it was better than being scared. I crossed the shop and cautiously walked over to the rolled-up rug to close the metal screen over the dying embers. The clock on the mantel told me it was almost eleven and suddenly I felt exhausted. I picked up the rug and flopped it over the pentagram. I’d leave it alone, but I didn’t have to look at it.

  I flipped off lights as I went, finally putting a foot on the bottom step of the staircase. Above me, a rafter creaked. I froze. The house could have been settling. Or…someone was upstairs.

  I looked up the stairwell lit by a single bulb. I waited. Was it my imagination?

  It creaked again. Definitely someone…or something…moving up there.

  Chapter Twelve

  But the house is safe, my mind complained to me.

  I looked over my shoulder toward the crossbow. Taking my foot gently off the step, I crept across the shop and carefully picked up the weapon. I noticed it was cocked again with a bolt sitting in place. A different bolt from before. Like the thing knew which particular bolt I needed. I’d have to have a closer look at the crossbow later. If I had a later.

  Another board upstairs creaked. Noisy bugger, whatever it was.

  Placing the butt of the crossbow onto my shoulder, I started up the stairs, trying not to let the steps creak under me. I attempted to calm my breath, but I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and throat. I had seen pictures of the succubi in those books. Some just looked like women while other depictions resembled vampires with red eyes and sharp teeth. It made me wonder if the writers of these books had ever really seen one or were just going by old wives’ tales.

  I made it to the landing and looked up at my open bedroom doorway. The room was dark. Why hadn’t I left a light on?

  I stood on the landing, thinking. What was better: the element of surprise or giving the thing a chance to get out? I took a deep breath. “I know you’re there!” My voice sounded surprisingly strong. “You’ve got three seconds to get out before I start firing.”

  A shape appeared at the top of the stairs. My breath caught. Was that a succubus? My hand tightened over the crossbow. My finger twitched on the trigger.

  “That damned crossbow,” came a wholly familiar posh voice.

  My relief made me giddy and I lowered the weapon. “You’re such an idiot!”

  “Apparently.” Erasmus took a step down and his face became clearer though still shadowed.

  “What are you doing there? I could have killed you.”

  “Doubtful.”

  I climbed the steps two at a time, pointing the crossbow downward so it wouldn’t go off accidentally. When I got to the top of the stairs we stared at each other.

  “I thought you weren’t coming back,” I said quietly.

  He dropped his gaze to the floor. “So did I. But I…thought better of it. You need my help. Despite the best efforts of your amateur Wiccans.”

  “They said the house was safe.”

  “From some things, yes.” His eyes focused on mine again. “Not from me.”

  “I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry about earlier. I…I do trust you.”

  Brows rising, he looked at me sidelong. “Humans are very odd.”

  I barked a laugh from sheer relief. “Yes, we can be.”

  He was looking at me steadily when he raised a hand and, with a delicate finger, brushed a strand of my hair out of my eyes. I stilled while he carefully moved it and then lowered his hand.
All at once he had a “why did I do that?” look on his face. His cheeks burnished to a dark blush and there was a soft intake of breath. He whirled away, stalking back up into my room, into the darkness. I followed him and switched on a lamp.

  He squinted at it. “I hate electric light.”

  “Do you prefer candlelight?” I tossed the crossbow on the bed. I noticed that—now that the danger was gone—the string had released itself and the bolt was back in its niche on the handle.

  “Candlelight, firelight. Much easier on the senses,” he was saying.

  “I never took you for a romantic, Erasmus.”

  “Miss Strange, it is not wise to taunt me.”

  “I don’t know about that. It’s my favorite hobby these days.” I leaned back against a post, resisting the urge to toy with the amulet. “And it’s Kylie.”

  “Miss Strange—”

  “My friends call me Kylie.”

  He stopped, barely breathing. His brow furrowed and his eyes, so shadowed now, looked deep black. “You…consider me…a friend?”

  I shrugged. “Might as well. You are going to help me, aren’t you? That’s why you came back, isn’t it?”

  He swallowed. Discomfort looked good on him. Too good. I forced myself to look away. It occurred to me that we were standing in my bedroom. I was wondering when it would occur to him.

  No! It was time to get something straight in my head. There was far too much here that I shouldn’t be messing with. A demon was just not suitable for me by any stretch of the imagination. No matter how overworked my imagination was. Even though that treacherous crossbow seemed to like him.

  “Are you really a demon?” I blurted, breathless.

  He was facing away from me, and his shoulders stiffened. Without turning he said, “Yes.”

  “But you’re going to help me?”