by Linsey Hall
My heart raced as I stepped out into a second-floor room that we hadn’t yet started on.
“Is it just me, or is this exciting?” Mac asked.
“It’s not just you.” Something was happening—I could feel it.
The bird flew to a dusty old box in the corner and landed on the wooden top. It turned to me, eyes glinting, then pecked at the wood.
“Well, if that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is,” Mac said.
“Yeah.” I approached the box, a strange tingle of awareness racing down my arms. As I neared, the bird hopped off.
Magic radiated from the box, buzzing and bright. A chill raced over my skin as I reached for it, the bird’s keen eyes on me.
What the heck was in here?
2
Carrow
Tension tightened the air around me as I rested my fingertips against the lid of the wooden box. It was fairly large—roughly a meter by a meter—and looked old. Really old. The layer of dust on the surface was thick, and there was no lock.
“Go on,” Mac said. “I’m dying over here.”
I nodded, my breath coming short. It felt like something momentous was going to happen.
Quickly, I lifted the lid. Dust billowed out, and I coughed, blinking frantically against the sting.
Finally, the plume cleared, and I looked down. Fabric filled the box, folded and dull. It had probably once been a brilliant blue velvet, but it was now faded and worn. The lace that edged the sleeves was yellowed and fragile.
I frowned. “A dress?”
Mac joined me, peering down. “There might be more.”
I removed it from the box. The fabric felt heavier than it should have, with something bulky moving around in the middle of the folded pile. “I think you’re right.”
I set the dress back in the box, since the interior of the container was the cleanest spot in the room, then rummaged around inside the fabric. My fingertips closed around a heavy object, and awareness shot through me. My magic flared, and though I didn’t get a vision like I normally might, I felt the connection as I pulled it free. The object looked like a stamp of some kind—the old-fashioned sort that was used to press a blob of wax on a letter. A seal, they were called, with an emblem carved on the business side. I raised it up and inspected it.
There was an ornate symbol, along with a single word: Rasla.
“Huh.” I shook my head. “I knew it. We’re connected somehow.”
“You are?”
“Yeah. I can feel it. My magic is going off like alarm bells.”
“What do you see?”
“Nothing, which is rare. Normally, I’d get a vision. And I should be, but something is blocking it. Or maybe my magic is just being stubborn. It’s seemed a bit wonky lately.”
“You’re connected to Rasla, though?”
“Somehow. I knew my obsession wasn’t random.”
“True that. No one would be interested in that miserable bastard unless they had good reason.”
I put the seal in my pocket and reached back into the pile of fabric. My fingertips touched the leather binding of a small book, and I drew it free. As with the seal, the book pulsed with magic. A connection zipped between me and the volume, a fizz of magic that lit up my mind.
An ornate golden clasp locked the book tight, making it impossible to open. Protective magic swirled around it. “I don’t think we should try to open it without a key.”
My power struggled to work, trying to read information from the object in my hand. I got a flash of an image—a woman wearing the dress in the box. She looked sad. Terrified. And there was something familiar about her.
I tried to focus on her face—did she kind of look like me?—but her image faded away. Frustration seethed through me.
Damn it.
I opened my eyes, staring down at the book. “There are answer here.”
“About you and Grey?”
“About everything. My past, definitely. I can just feel it. My power is screaming. And she might have looked a bit like me, which was weird. But the book isn’t showing me anything else.”
Mac held her hand over the lock for a second, then hissed and yanked it back. “Definitely don’t break the lock.”
“That was my thought. Feels like a strong enchantment, huh?” I looked at the clasp, unable to find the lock hole. There were three other tiny holes, though. “Must be a really tiny key.”
“Yeah.” Mac leaned over the box and picked up the dress, gently shaking it out. I watched, hopeful that a key might fall from the folds, but once she’d fully withdrawn the dress and shook it out without finding anything, I leaned over to look into the bottom of the box.
It was empty.
“Damn.” She met my eyes. “I can start searching the rest of the boxes.”
I looked at the piles of dusty, battered crates. “I doubt it’s in here, but we need to search them anyway.”
“My thoughts exactly.” She wiped a finger through the dust on the box. “But first, I want to get rid of this. It will kill us if we disturb all of it.”
My nose itched with an oncoming sneeze, as if agreeing. “Maybe Seraphia could work on the book in the meantime. She’s got to have a trick for getting into locks like this.”
“Great idea. Library should open any minute.”
“I’m going to take it to her. Good luck with the dusting.”
“Ha. Leaving me with the fun job, I see.”
I grinned at her. “You really are the best. I owe you.”
“A bottle of wine, at the very least.”
“And a gift certificate to that Fae spa you like, because you’re going to need it once you’re done with this dust.”
Her brows rose. “I won’t say no to that.”
As I turned toward the door, I caught sight of the raven. The bird’s eyes had been riveted to the book, and as it lifted them, I held its gaze. “This is what you wanted me to find, isn’t it?”
It didn’t so much as nod, but I was sure of the answer. Quickly, I left the tower, the book clutched tight to my chest. It was small, like a diary, and I wondered if that’s what it was. There was no title on the spine that I could see. The stone seal in my pocket sat heavily against my leg, and as I crossed the courtyard, I couldn’t help but look at the pedestal upon which Rasla’s statue had once stood.
We’d broken his curse on the Shadow Guild tower and driven his ghost from Guild City, but he was still haunting us. Worse, I felt a connection to the space where the statue had been.
I shook the thought away and hurried toward the library. The morning rush had quieted now that everyone had got to work, and I made it to Seraphia’s library in record time.
The tiny Tudor building looked quiet and closed, and when I tried the door, I found it locked once more. A quick glance at the sign showed that it technically should be open.
What was the deal? This was the second time the library had been unexpectedly closed. Our friendship felt too new for me to pry, but I was worried.
I knocked on the door, tapping my foot as I waited. A few minutes passed, so I knocked harder, banging on the door like a lunatic.
“I’m coming!” Seraphia’s voice filtered through the wood, and I leaned over to look in the window.
She raced for the door, her clothes looking rumpled and worn. The skinny jeans were baggy at the knee, the way they became after wearing them too long—and her faded T-shirt hung off her shoulder, the neck stretched out. Her dark hair was a mess around her head, and shadows sat below her eyes.
I frowned. Seraphia had never looked this rough before.
She pulled open the door, her complexion paler than normal. “Hey. Sorry. I must have overslept.”
“In the library?”
“I live upstairs. Kind of.”
I frowned, waiting for an explanation.
None came.
She stepped back and gestured for me to enter. “Come in.”
I stepped into the enormous, cathedral-like spa
ce. Though the outside of the library was tiny, it was an illusion. The interior was a palace of books, so many that my mind started to fog if I tried to conceive of a total. The enormous, domed ceiling rose high overhead, reminding me more of St. Paul’s than a library.
“What brings you here so early?” Seraphia asked.
“It’s almost lunch.”
She grimaced. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
She rubbed a hand over her face, the gesture weary. “Oh, boy.”
“You can tell me about it, you know.”
Her green eyes flashed to mine, indecision flickering within. “Thanks. But I’m fine.”
I nodded. Sure.
But I didn’t say it. Pressing was a bad idea. Seraphia started to close the door and hesitated. “Eve’s raven is outside.”
“Really?” I turned back, spotting the glossy black feathers in the tree across the street. I shouted, “You can come in if you want!”
The bird just stared at me, and I shrugged. “That’s a no.”
Seraphia shut the door and turned to me. “Come on. I need tea before I can do anything.”
I followed her toward the back. She led me into a small kitchen that appeared to be stuck inside a massive bookshelf. I walked between rows of books, and suddenly I stood in a little space that looked like it was from the 1940s.
“They had to carve this spot out with magic,” Seraphia said. “One of the former librarians insisted on her tea breaks.”
“I don’t blame her.”
Seraphia walked to the old AGA cooker. The metal was painted a pale pink, matching the rest of the strange old kitchen. A kettle shaped like a very ugly cat sat on the hob, and she waved a hand over it. A second later, steam billowed from the top, and the cat yowled.
“That’s handy,” I said.
She grinned at me. “Another request of the former librarian. The spell isn’t complicated, but it’s expensive. Milk and sugar?”
“Just milk, thanks.”
She prepared the tea and handed me a cup. She took a sip, then sighed, her eyes suddenly looking brighter. “Now, what can I help you with?”
I handed her the book. “That lock.”
She frowned at it, lips pursed. “It’s a strong one. If we try to break it, I think the pages will incinerate. Do you know who owned it?”
“No. A woman, I think. Maybe from the time of Rasla.”
“That old bastard?”
“The very same. We found it in the Shadow Guild tower. Mac is looking for the key, but we’re not hopeful.”
“Yeah, she’d have hidden it well.” Seraphia flipped the book over, inspecting the back. “And I don’t think it will be a normal key. But I can work on this. Might take me a little while, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.” I hesitated. “Not to rush you, but…I’m pretty sure that book has answers about Grey and me.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“I don’t know how, and I don’t know what. But my power is telling me there’s information in there.”
“You’re never wrong, so I’ll get to work on it.” Her head tilted, and her eyes brightened. “Someone is here.” She strode around me and exited the kitchen.
I followed, clutching my tea. When I spotted Grey standing near the door, I nearly dropped the cup.
A shaft of sunlight streamed over his face, highlighting the curves and angles that made him look like Lucifer himself. The shadows under his eyes only accentuated his otherworldly beauty, and though he hadn’t started losing weight like he had before, there was something sharper about him.
His gaze moved to me, something indecipherable flickering in the depths.
My soul felt like it fluttered inside my chest, reaching out for him. I sucked in a quiet breath and resisting pressing a hand to my chest to force it back in.
“Grey.”
“Carrow.”
“I don’t suppose you’re here to check out a book?” Seraphia asked.
“No, I’m here for Carrow.”
I’m here for Carrow. I liked the sound of that, even though everything had gone to hell.
Seraphia looked between the two of us, then gestured off to the right. “There’s a small room, if you want privacy.”
“Thanks.” I smiled at her, then headed that way. I had no idea why he was here, but privacy sounded like the way to go.
Grey followed me, and I could feel his stare on my back. It warmed me through, and I wanted to turn and throw my arms around him. I knew it was crazy, given everything, but I still wanted it.
The little room that waited for us was a sitting room, complete with two cozy armchairs and a fireplace that flickered with flame. Bookshelves covered every wall, and about six Persian rugs overlapped each other on the floor. The scent of paper and leather binding filled the air, along with fresh flowers. I spotted the cheerful bouquet of peonies on the windowsill, then turned.
Grey waited just inside the door, his gaze on me.
Indecision tugged at me for a split second, and then I threw my arms around him. His arms came up, and he gripped me tightly to him, seeming to melt into me in a way that should have felt heavy but instead felt blissfully light. Like being surrounded in perfect peace.
I clung to him, his scent of flickering flame and whisky wrapping around me.
“This is a bad idea,” he murmured against my head.
“I don’t care. I haven’t seen you in two days.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“Of course you have. At what?” I didn’t pull away. He could explain just fine like this.
“I may have found something.”
“Yeah?” This time, I pulled back to look at him, but didn’t let go. “What?”
“Don’t get too excited. My last plan didn’t work.”
“I’m hardly any further along at finding answers in the Shadow Guild tower.” Unless the book panned out. “What did you find?”
“My maker is still alive, apparently. He’s the oldest turned vampire, though I haven’t seen him for centuries.”
“He can help?”
“Possibly. If he can’t, then he has connections with the most powerful seer in the vampire world. She’s an expert in all matters pertaining to us. She may know a way out.”
It was all we had, so it had to be enough. “Where is your maker?”
“In the town of Siaora, in Transylvania. We can leave now.”
“Now? You want me to come?” I was glad but surprised. He’d been so distant and secretive lately.
He nodded. “You’re half of this, and more than likely, we’ll see the seer. Her gift works by touch, just like yours. If we want full answers, we both need to be there.”
“It’ll give Seraphia time to work on the book I found.” Quickly, I filled him in.
When I finished, he nodded. “I need to stop by my flat for some things. Will you meet me there once you’ve collected what you need for a trip to the mountains? It could be cold.”
I nodded, already thinking of how I’d stop by Eve’s for some weapons. “I’ll see you at yours.”
Together, we left the library. On the street, we parted ways—he headed toward his tower, and I headed toward Eve’s place.
I reached her shop a few minutes later, finding her buried up to her chin in books. All around her, the shelves were piled high with gleaming glass potion bottles. Every color of the rainbow glinted under the lights, making it one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen.
Today, Eve’s hair was a brilliant copper. It gleamed like freshly polished metal and was twisted into intricate braids. Her dress matched, though in a slightly darker tone.
“Hey.” I shut the door quietly behind me.
She looked up, her face pale and her eyes tired. “Carrow! How are you? Figure things out with the mysterious raven?”
The bird was nowhere to be seen, and I thought she looked a bit shifty about it.
I shook my head. I was prob
ably making that up.
“No idea what’s up with the raven, but that’s okay.” I gestured to the books. “What’s with the library here?” I was more used to her slaving over little cauldrons, not old books.
“Trying to create a new potion, but something’s not working right. I was hoping I’d find answers in these.” She sighed and stood. “No luck so far. How can I help you?”
“I’m going to Transylvania with Grey and was hoping you could help me out with some potions. Defensive, mostly.”
“Sure thing.” She came around the desk, her magic smelling like a fresh breeze and feeling like soft grass beneath my feet. “Follow me.”
She led me to the back room, where she began to fill a bag with potions. As she held each bottle up and described the potion’s use, I memorized it and the distinctive color and shape of its glass container. Some were for defense, some were for healing. They’d be marked, but when one was in a hurry, it was better to just grab and go.
Finished, she strode toward me and handed me the bag. “Be careful, it’s dangerous there.”
“What do I owe you for these?”
“A favor later.”
I grinned. “Sure thing.”
“Now get out of here, I have research to do.” Her smile was friendly, but her eyes were tired. I debated asking again about the raven—could she seriously not see it?—but I knew the answer I’d get. And anyway, Grey was waiting.
3
Grey
Carrow and I arrived in Siaora three hours later. She had been delayed in meeting me at my flat, but she’d come bearing a bag of potion bombs from Eve—a wise move.
We’d used a transportation charm to make the journey. Just holding her hand as we’d walked through the portal had made my heart race.
Who the hell was I becoming?
“This is…different,” she said, looking out at the darkened city. The sun hovered over the peaked roofs, and the golden glow should have made the place look beautiful. Instead, it only looked more ominous. A trick of the light made the sun look like blood on the cobblestones, and the ramshackle buildings were as dreary as ever. Though it was midday, it seemed dark as dusk. It would be worse at the castle.