My mind whirled as an idea took root. “I need to go home.”
Niki's expression was unreadable. “Leaving me already?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course not, but I think I know where to find our answer. Dad has an old tome he got from some Druid when I was maybe six years old. He used the book as a base for many of his spells.” I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “I was so young, but I’m positive he said there was information in it about almost everything if one took the time to look. I vaguely remember catching a glimpse of one of them—something about bringing down kingdoms, I think.” I shared a look between the two of them. “It has to be worth a try, right?”
Lucien’s teeth gnawed on his lower lip thoughtfully, before giving a single nod. “You two go. Find the book but get back here as fast as you can. Malachi’s right—time’s running out.” He turned and motioned with a flick of his hand toward Malachi who stepped forward from his silent stance by the door.
As I stared at them, I realized just how important they had become to me. If something happened to either demon . . . Apprehension filled me, and I didn’t like the weird feeling churning in my gut.
I groaned. I’m turning into my dad.
Niki and I stood together, my fingers sliding through his. He stared at Lucien and Malachi, his eyes like golden nuggets, his enforcer expression dark and serious. I shivered. There wasn’t even a hint of the tenderness I’d just seen.
“Malachi, track down any information about the queen. I need to know where she is and what she’s doing.” Lucien held up a finger. “No one knows I’m free. Got it?”
Malachi straightened. “Yes, sir. I’ll find out something.” In a blink, he disappeared.
Lucien met our gazes. “Be careful. I will stay here until you get back.” He directed a focused look at Niki. “Let me know about anything you find.”
“Will do.” Niki squeezed my hand. “Ready?”
“I guess—” Before I’d even finished the last word, the yellow room disappeared in a swirl of colors. I must have gotten used to apparating, because this time I hardly noticed anything. In the distance, my dad’s library looked like a small dot, brightening and widening until I could read the individual titles on his books.
The minute my feet touched the stone floor or my father’s workroom, I dropped Niki's hand and, with a sad sigh, touched several of the leather spines on the shelf. I missed hearing his snarky responses, so much like my own.
“We’ll find them. Now where do we look for Gerard’s book?” Niki asked.
I inhaled, smelling the aging leathers and the acerbic scents of old chemicals mixed with strange-looking plants growing on a shelf overlooking several dozen vials, some empty but most full.
Grabbing hold of my rioting emotions, I walked to my dad’s antique desk. I punched in the numerical code on the lock and folded down the front panel. Inside the desk’s dark cavity rested a very large leather-covered tome. My father’s book of magic.
“That’s one thick book,” Niki muttered and pulled it out of the desk. He laid it on the table in the center of the room. “Any idea what we’re looking for?”
“None. I wasn’t allowed to touch it. Dad said the book was too dangerous if you didn’t know how to use it.”
“Yeah, especially with your gracefulness.” Niki lifted the cover and carefully opened the book.
“Smart ass.”
I leaned over his shoulder and watched as he gently turned the pages. The old parchment had aged to a dark tan. The once brilliant colors covering each page had paled, but the illustrations and words were still beautiful. The gold ink surrounding the detailed pictures was faded but matched the calligraphy-styled lettering. Awed by such a long-dead skill, I couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken the author to create such a masterpiece.
“Wow, these are great.” I gawked at the pages. “Wonder what the words say?”
Niki fingered the lettering. “Give me a sec and I’ll tell you.” As he read page after page, I concentrated on the pictures. They also told a story. I found myself in a living tale as I went from frame to frame. The story was terrific, drawing me forward, until I heard Niki shouting at me, sounding like he was a million miles away. I snapped out of the story when he shook me by the shoulders, hard enough my head bounced back and forth. My brain ached.
“Hey, why’d you do that?”
“You were reciting one of the spells.”
A bad feeling churned in my gut. “What spell?” My voice cracked as I frowned at him.
“I think it was to be a better sorcerer. Hopefully, I stopped you in time.” He waved a hand over the tome. “This is a very dangerous book. The words tell a story, but the pictures make up the spells.”
“I don’t feel any different. Dad should have this under lock and key.”
“He did.”
“Well, he needs a better lock.”
“The story I read sounds so familiar . . . Something about a gargoyle who drank a potion and turned into a man to find his true love.”
“Sweet. A paranormal fairy tale. What happens next?”
“From what I could translate, he dies from heartache and turns into a wraith.”
“Well, that sucks. Are all the stories so bleak and depressing?”
Niki flipped through the pages at an amazing speed. He became so absorbed in what he was doing, I got bored and walked across the room to a wall of potions and herbs. I opened one of the herb jars and sniffed. Phew. A rotten-egg smell assaulted my nose. Sulfur. Geez, how old were these herbs? I kept opening bottles and jars, wondering what they were all for.
I grabbed the last potion bottle and noticed the sparkly liquid inside. The pale amber fluid reminded me of a sunny-day rainstorm. Light sparkled through the crystal drops. I pulled the cork-bottomed glass stopper and inhaled. The smell wrapped around me and permeated every pore.
My head and body floated as I closed my eyes and rode the wave of sensation crowding me. Something fell into place and clicked. I actually heard the click. When I snapped back to reality and glanced down at the bottle still clasped in my hands, the vial was now empty.
A familiar spiral of panic tore through me and, instinctively, I knew I’d just done something very, very bad. I glanced back at Niki, relieved to see him still absorbed in his reading and about three-quarters through the book. I stuffed the stopper back into the bottle’s neck and stuck it in my pocket to figure out later.
Crossing to the window, I peered out across the dew-covered lawn, the water drops sparkling underneath the solar garden lamps. Morning was almost here, but the sky was still a dark blanket, the moon hidden behind a heavy layer of gray clouds. Even the stars were hidden from sight.
“Johnna, come here. I found something I think will work.” Niki motioned me to his side. Focusing on where he pointed, I frowned, not liking how I still couldn’t read what was written.
“What does it say? The words are just a bunch of gibberish to me.”
“This isn’t a story. It’s instructions for taking someone’s power. The book states the person has to ask for the release.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Giselle will never ask for her powers to be taken away. Keep searching.”
“No, imp. I think this could work.” He glanced up from the page and caught my doubtful look. His excitement turned to a pinch between his brows. “Quit looking at me that way. I know you don’t like it, but we can make this work.”
A heaviness filled my chest, and I let out a sigh of resignation. “Fine. We’ll use it. But your plan better be spot on.”
“Nag, nag, nag.”
“To be on the safe side—before we leave—just give me a quick summary.” I couldn’t completely erase the doubts hiding in the corners of my mind, my gut instinct telling me something bad was about to happen.
“Are we going to get hurt?”
“Probably.”
“Well, that’s honest. Guess it wouldn’t be any fun if we didn’t.” Determined to shove my doubts aside and throw off the heavy feeling hanging over me like a doomsday device, I gave him my most radiant smile. “I’ll be able to put my new demon genes to work using my fast healing trick.”
Niki trailed wonderful, tingling kisses down my neck. “You will not be allowed to get hurt.”
“Make up your mind. You just said we will probably get hurt.” I pulled away slightly and picked up my dad’s book, hugging the tome tightly against my chest. “Let’s go home,” I whispered, my throat unable to swallow past the entrenched lump.
“I thought you said this was home.”
I shook my head. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, demon mine? Home is where you are.”
Niki wrapped his arm around my shoulders and, with his lips pressed against my forehead, we apparated back to the Demon Realm. The swirling rush of cool air over my warm skin felt . . . stimulating.
We popped into the small, yellow room to find Lucien pacing. He was so engrossed in his thoughts, I startled him when I took a step in his direction, his relief evident as the hard planes of his face relaxed. Only a hint of wildness hovered deep in his eyes.
“Finally,” he exclaimed. “Did you find anything?”
I nodded and held out the book, placing it in his outstretched arms. “Niki marked the page. While I have my doubts, he seems to think this particular spell will work.”
Lucien stared at me. I hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary or spectacular, so his unblinking gaze unnerved me a bit. “You have doubts?”
I dug the toe of my boot into the shaggy rug. “Not so much doubts. I just think we’ll need to add something to it. I’m not sure the spell will be enough. There are a few tiny holes needing to be patched.”
“Niki?” Lucien pushed.
“The spell demands the queen’s acquiescence. She has to ask us to take her powers.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” Lucien stated flatly.
“See?” I gestured impatiently at Niki. “That’s what I said.”
Lucien set the giant tome on the table between the sofas. “Those aren’t holes, they’re craters! I can’t get my mother to do simple things. How am I supposed to persuade her into this? Confront her and demand she give up her powers? I’d be turned into a rat.”
“Better than a speck of dirt,” I retorted. “A rat is easier to find.”
Lucien growled. “Not funny.” He threw his hands up in frustration. “I’m through. I’ve dealt with her for years. Now it’s your turn.”
I stared at my uncle as an idea took root. It was exactly what we needed to make the plan work. “I know what we can do.”
A low groan came from Niki, netting him a fierce glower from me. “You could be more supportive,” I snapped, plopping down on the floor.
“Johnna, what’s your idea?” Lucien’s voice trembled with what sounded suspiciously like mirth.
“If you’re just going to laugh at me, think of something yourselves.” I found myself totally annoyed with men.
“I wasn’t laughing at your idea, sweetheart. I was laughing at the two of you. You’re both impossible.”
Inhaling deeply, I let my anger-fueled frustration dissipate. “We need to get her away from anyone who could help her.”
“It goes back to your original idea—using the same guards she used against us,” Niki interjected.
“Exactly. But my idea is about how to trick her.” I turned to my uncle. “I know spells work on demons or my dad would be out of a job. But can they be used against royalty?”
Lucien’s expression grew thoughtful, his gaze unfocused as his thumb bounced against his lips. “What a great question. I don’t know. When we were still small enough for my father to carry us on his shoulders, Gerard used to spell my parents. Drove my mother crazy, but Dad loved it.”
“He wasn’t trying to hurt them,” I pointed out.
Niki squatted down in front of me and squeezed my hand as he brought it up to his lips. “We aren’t trying to hurt her either.”
A slow smile spread across my face. “Then it’s possible. Right?”
Lucien nodded. “I assume so, yes.”
“I need to wake up my grandfather. Spells aren’t my strong suit. If I can get him to understand what spell we want to use, he’ll be able to do the right one.”
“It’s a great idea, imp. Go ahead and ask. See what he thinks,” Niki agreed.
I focused on my grandfather’s spirit, absently playing with the small charm he was currently holed up in. Grandpops? I need you to wake up. I have to ask you a question.
Go to sleep. Wake up. Make up your mind, girl.
Wow. Remind me never to interrupt your naptime. You’re cranky.
Well, what else do I have to do? It’s dull in here.
Sorry. Can I ask my question now?
Oh, all right.
We have a small problem regarding the queen.
Knew you would.
How would you know?
You’re involved, so problems are a given.
Thanks. Love you too.
Max, we’re short on time, Niki interrupted.
All right then, what’s this about? Max asked.
Grandpops, I need to know if there’s a spell we can use to overpower Giselle.
What do you mean? I heard the hesitation in my grandfather’s voice.
We found one of Dad’s spells in a leather book. The spell says if she willingly renounces her powers, the spell will bind them.
Hmmm. It’s an interesting theory.
Well? We don’t need theory. I need it to be possible, I interjected. We’re only going to get one chance at this.
Give me a second to think on it. Giselle won’t give up anything easily, you know.
We know. Sighing, I fidgeted with my ponytail as I waited.
I think the only way to make sure she stays out of trouble is to trap her inside one of the charms as well. There’s not a body-bind spell that will work permanently, I’m afraid. Simple spells will work on the king and queen, but not the other, more complicated ones. Sorry.
So, you’re telling me there’s nothing we can do? This wasn’t the answer I’d hoped for.
Well, not exactly, Max hedged. Yet you already have the answer, Johnna. It rests within you.
I stared at Niki blankly. Huh? I’m not following your cryptic comment. What do you mean?
It’s your magic, my dear, not mine.
Can I fire you?
No. You’re stuck with me.
Grandpops?
Yes, Johnna?
Thanks.
You’re welcome, my dear.
Meeting Niki’s eyes, I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn’t move.
“It’s all right, imp. We’ll figure something else out.”
Lucien moaned, drawing our attention. He looked defeated. He fell into the chair, his arms hanging over the sides, and his features drooped. “I take it Max didn’t have any wonderful insights?”
I hesitated. “Yes and no.”
“Tell me what Max said.”
“It’s not as bad as you think, Uncle Lucien. Grandpops said spell don’t work on the royal family. Simple spells do work on you and your mother, but nothing intricate,” I explained.
“That’s reassuring.”
I let out a drawn-out sigh. I didn’t know what to do next. I had no idea what Grandpops meant about me using my magic. When I followed Giselle around the castle, she wasn’t wearing much metal—at least not enough for my magic to do much good.
“Johnna,” Niki asked, his eyes narrowing as he stared
at me. “Has anything changed?”
“Meaning?”
“With your magic. After you healed Markus, did you notice something different?”
“Whoa—wait a minute,” Lucien demanded. “What’s this about healing Markus? What was wrong with him?”
I gestured broadly. “What wasn’t wrong?”
Niki covered my mouth with his hand as he answered the king’s questions. Lucien's expression lightened, morphing into a wide grin. He looked at me in awe. “Well, it explains why he looks so much bigger. This raises all kinds of possibilities.”
Niki interrupted the king’s exuberance. “Don’t get too happy. Markus also said it drained her so much, she passed out.”
“Haven’t most mages when they push their magic? Gerard fainted when he was first learning the most difficult spells. She’ll adapt.”
“Gerard was never out longer than a minute—thirty seconds at most. Johnna was unconscious for more than fifteen minutes.”
Lucien’s eyes sparked. Uh, oh. I took a step back, recognizing the familiar signs of an oncoming lecture. He glared at me for a full minute before his tirade started. And yes, I counted all sixty seconds.
“What in Hell’s name did you do?”
“Hell’s name? That’s a new one.”
“Johnna Artemis Newton.”
I cringed at the use of my full name . . . and wanted to strangle whoever had told him my full name. “Back to your first question, I don’t know what I did. I only tried to adjust the metal. I just wanted to heal Markus. I felt so sorry for him.” I thought back, examining every nuance, trying to figure out the difference as I sorted through everything. “I remember the metal tones evening out and sounding more balanced. I had the urge, like a pulling to go deeper, so I combined my magic with the power in my charm and it sort of took over. The next thing I knew, Al was imitating a basketball on my face and chest.” I shrugged. “I seriously don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.”
In Mage We Trust (Of Mystics and Mayhem Book 1) Page 23