“Why not? What are they?”
“I found them in my brother’s stuff after he … well, you know what happened to him.”
I did know what happened to him; he’d been killed, but now I had an inclination that it might have been more than Nic thought. If his brother had been a true witch hunter—and, judging by the symbol on the wall in the bathroom, he definitely had been—then there was more to his brother’s death than just simply getting caught out by a rogue shifter pack.
“Nic, how much did you know about your brother?”
“He wasn’t a witch hunter, Amber, can we please just drop this now?”
He sounded tired, almost weary, as though this wasn’t the first time he’d had this argument—but then, if that were true, who had he spoken to about all of this before?
“Actually, no, I don’t think I can drop it….”
He lifted his gaze to mine and the disappointment in his eyes surprised me; it was the last thing I’d been expecting to see. Anger, resentment, sorrow even, but not disappointment.
“Look, even after everything that happened out there tonight, I didn’t question you. I didn’t ask you to explain it to me; I trusted you. Can’t you just do the same thing for me?”
“Nic, with everything I know, I can’t. I get it. You don’t understand how dangerous the witch hunters were, but….”
“Enough, I know what the Saga Venatione were. You don’t need to explain it to me. Just because I can’t see what you can doesn’t mean I haven’t done my share of research.”
His words shocked me. The witches never dared call them by the name he’d just used. Call it silly superstition, but they’d always believed that to use their true name would be enough to bring their wrath down on your home.
I took a step away, my back connecting with the dining table behind me, and I peered over my shoulder at the piles of books.
“They belong to the….”
“The Saga Venatione? Yes.”
“And you’re telling me you found all of this with your brother’s stuff, and he wasn’t one of them? You really expect me to believe that?”
“He was born to it, but he wasn’t one of them, Amber. My brother was a good guy. We had our ups and downs, but he wasn’t like the savages I’ve read about.”
I shook my head and crept along the edge of the table, slowly sliding out of reach. I’d put so much trust in Nic—part of me had even believed I was starting to fall for him—when all along, he was a witch hunter? He’d said he wasn’t, but how was I supposed to believe that after everything he’d revealed?
“So what are you doing with all this stuff then?” The book in Nic’s hand continued to call to me in a language I couldn’t comprehend. It seemed the further away from it I went, the more insistent it was that I return and pick it up once more.
“When I found out what you were, and with the demon mark, I thought maybe there would be something in one of these books that could help.”
I didn’t speak aloud the thoughts swirling in my head. The only one something out of these books would help would be another witch hunter. I was simply the target that needed to be destroyed by any means necessary. But from the expression on Nic’s face and the earnestness in his voice, he actually believed what he was telling me. He really thought something like this could help me….
“That book you’re holding—what is it?” I asked, pointing to the leather-bound tome still in his hands.
“This? I’m not sure. I’ve been trying to translate it, but it’s hard going. Every time I start, all I want to do is fall asleep.”
I nodded; he didn’t even realise what he was holding in his hands. He wasn’t supposed to translate it; no witch hunter was, especially if it truly was a grimoire, and judging by the yellowing of its pages, it was really old….
I sighed, and closed the distance between us, my hands wrapping around the book. I tugged at it, but Nic kept a grip on it.
“What are you doing? I’ve heard the books can be … unhealthy for witches.”
“They can, but this doesn’t belong to you,” I said, putting a little weight behind my words.
The book slipped from Nic’s grip, popping into mine. He stared at me, stunned, and I gestured to the other books on the table. “Will you clear a space? I don’t want to risk touching the others.”
His expression was wary as he cleared away some of the books, leaving a small end section of the table free. Grabbing one of the chairs, I tugged it out from beneath the table and plopped down into it, laying the book out before me and cracking it open to the first page.
The page was curled and marked; along the edges I could see scorch marks. Obviously before they’d decided it might be useful, they’d tried to burn it. Or maybe it was just that they couldn’t destroy it—nothing was impossible.
Nic dropped into the seat next to me as I slipped my athame out from my belt. Pressing the tip of it to my finger, I pierced the skin and squeezed until the blood began to well. Blood trickled down the side of my finger and dripped onto the page.
“Amber, what are you doing? Do you know how old that book is?” Nic said.
I ignored him, allowing the blood to flow faster and drip down onto the page. Magic rustled across my skin like a summer breeze, nothing more than a gentle caress, but it held the promise of so much more. Nic fell silent and I knew he’d felt it too. The drops of blood soaked into the book, disappearing into the aged paper as though the book itself was drinking it.
Something popped and energy flowed outwards like the shock wave after an EMT. I gasped, dropping back into the chair as black lines ran outwards in spiralling circles from the point of contact my blood had made.
The power dropped and I held my hand just above the surface of the book as it pulsed and throbbed. A name appeared, the words written in a dark, rusty ink that I knew instinctively was blood.
Brigid Dubhacht
“Who is that?” Nic asked, leaning over the table to get a closer look at the writing.
“It’s her name,” I said, remembering a story my mother had told me of the Shadow Sorcerers of old who had originated in Ireland, their magic as old as the land itself and far more powerful than anyone could have ever imagined. They’d drawn the source of their magic from the earth, using it to bend others to their will and rule with an iron fist.
Brigid Dubhacht had been one of the first, I was almost certain of it.
Flipping the page, the letters shifted, forming words and then sentences in a language I couldn’t read.
“What does it say?”
I shook my head and squinted down at the page, unable to figure out the meaning of the scrawling letters and what I assumed were words.
“I don’t know. It’s written in Irish, a really old form of it; the words don’t even make sense to me,” I said, disappointment welling in my core. “Where did your brother get this?”
Nic shrugged. “I don’t know. It wasn’t really something I could ask him about.”
“Well, this doesn’t belong to him; this doesn’t belong to any witch hunter,” I said, running my fingers down over the foreign words. I’d learned a little Irish in school, but I was pretty sure that no amount of honours Gaeilge was going to make this readable.
“I can see that,” Nic said. I turned, his gaze weighing heavily on me. “Amber, I….”
He paused as the shrill ring of my cell phone cut him off mid-sentence. Without hesitating, I scooped it from my pocket and answered the call.
“Hello?” I said, my gaze never leaving Nic’s serious expression.
“I did what you wanted, he’s awake. Now I hope you’ve got what I want?” Lily said impatiently, and her voice sent a frisson of fear down my spine.
“I have it….” I couldn’t commit to giving her the Bone Blade; I had no idea myself what it was even capable of. But I’d seen what Zeck could do with it, and the thought of handing over something as powerful as that to someone like Lily—well, it felt like the worst idea in the
world.
“Is that hesitation I hear in your voice, Amber? Because I’d hate to pay Graham another visit….”
“Look, I said I’ve got it, but I need to know what you’re going to do with it. You can’t just expect me to hand it over without some sort of—”
She cut me off. “I don’t owe you an explanation; suffice to say you’ll bring me the blade or Graham is dead.”
She was right, I couldn’t say no to her. Lily wanted the blade, and by saving Graham, she’d put me in a corner. If there was anyone on this earth with the power to end Graham’s life, it was she. How could I risk him like that?
“Where?” I said, with a sigh.
“I’ll come to you. It’ll stop you from wasting my time.”
“I’m not at my apartment,” I said, “and anyway, I need time. I need to go and see Graham for myself. I need to see him with my own eyes to be sure you’ve really kept your word.”
“Always so distrustful….”
“Dealing with you, I have to be. You did try to kill me and those I care about.”
“Only because you killed my father,” she said, the bitterness in her voice creating an ache in my gut. But the pain was caused by guilt, my own guilt. I’d brought all of this down on myself, all because I’d been a spoilt child who wanted her own way.
“I’ll give you until tonight. If you don’t hand the blade over by then, Graham is dead.”
The line went dead and I stared down at the screen for a minute before sucking in a deep breath and slowly letting the tension slide out of my shoulders.
“Lily?” Nic asked, his expression wary and closed, as though he was too afraid of my reaction to let me see his true feelings on the subject.
“Yeah, she wants to meet, have me hand over the Bone Blade, the one Zeck used.”
“You can’t seriously be thinking about handing it over to her, can you?”
“I don’t have a choice; she brought Graham back from the brink. She’s the only reason he’s alive right now, and if I don’t hand it over to her, he won’t stay alive.”
Nic dropped his head and buried his face in his hands. “Christ, it just gets more and more complicated.”
“Tell me about it….”
“Have you spoken to Graham about any of this?”
“He knows what she did and what she wants … but I need to go and see him. If I do hand it over, I need to know that whatever she’s done to bring him back won’t suddenly reverse….”
“Could she do something like that?” Nic asked.
“Where Lily is concerned, nothing is impossible; we both know that.”
Nic nodded before pushing up from the table and grabbing his jacket, which was slung across the back of the sofa.
“Well, if you’re going to check on Graham, there’s no time like the present.”
“You don’t need to come. I can do this myself.”
Nic shook his head and smiled. “What, and miss an opportunity to spend some more time in my favourite place on Earth? Are you kidding me, of course I have to go.” His voice was filled with sarcasm, and I smiled in spite of myself.
“Fine, but don’t expect Graham to be too thrilled to see you,” I said.
“I don’t think that man is ever too thrilled to see anyone. His default mode seems to be grumpy old dude.”
I laughed and pushed up from the table after Nic. The book in front of me called to me, the magic urging me to sit back down and forget about everything else I needed to do. It wanted to share its secrets with me, but as powerful as it was, I had things I needed to do first.
If Lily got her hands on something like this … well, it didn’t bear thinking about. She was powerful enough already, the last thing she needed was to get super-amped.
“Where can we hide this?” I asked, reluctantly flipping the cover on the grimoire closed.
“I’ve got a safe where I’ve been stashing everything; I’ll put it in there until we get back,” he said, taking the book from my hands.
I didn’t want to give it to him. There was a part of me that wanted to snatch the book back and run away with it screaming about how “precious” it was. It was utterly irrational and yet the thought still crossed my mind, and part of me still believed it would be a good idea. Was I so drawn to it because of what the book was, or the power it held? I had no clue; I couldn’t even translate the God damned thing.
Sucking in a deep breath, I let Nic walk away with the book. The sound of the safe door sliding open and the electronic click as he sealed the book inside slowed my heart to a more normal rate. The further the book was from me, the easier it was to concentrate. There would be plenty of time for it later—right now, I had bigger fish to fry, and if I didn’t get a move on, night would fall and Lily, I could imagine, would be only too happy to make good on her promise to kill Graham.
No matter what happened, no matter how hard it all was, I simply couldn’t let her get away with it and I wouldn’t let her hurt him. No matter what happened, I would keep Graham safe.
Chapter 5
Standing outside Graham’s door, I stared in at him through the small window. It was a very different scenario to the one I’d faced before. The nurses hadn’t tried to stop me when I’d turned up at the desk asking for him. This time they welcomed me with smiles and quickly pointed me in his direction.
Fighting back the emotions that welled within me as I watched him flick through the television channels, I pushed open the door and stepped into the room. The relief on his face made me smile, despite the tears that burned at the back of my throat.
“Am I glad to see you! Maybe you can convince them that I don’t need to be here anymore…” he said, letting the remote drop onto the bed next to him.
“You nearly died. I think a few days of getting checked out and resting isn’t going to do you any harm,” I said, making my way across the room and dropping down into the chair next to his bed.
“‘Nearly died’ is such an exaggeration….”
“No, it’s not, Graham. You might not remember it, but I do. ‘Nearly’ doesn’t cover it. You did die; they brought you back, but….” It was my turn to trail off as my words became strangled at the back of my throat.
I didn’t want to do this, sitting next to his bed crying like some sort of wet blanket. It hadn’t been my plan, but I found myself unable to keep the tears at bay and they tracked their way down my cheeks in hot trails that had my shoulders heaving with emotion.
“Shit, Amber, don’t cry. I’m fine, I’m still here, you know how tough I am.”
And I did know. He was one of the Elite’s finest, legendary in fact, but that didn’t change the fact that I’d screwed up and he’d come too close to never waking up again.
“You and I both know it’s got nothing to do with how tough any of us are. There will always be something tougher waiting to knock the shit out of us.”
“But it didn’t work this time. Zeck is dead and I’m fine.”
“Yeah, about that…” I said, biting the inside of my mouth. He knew a little of what was going on and I was pretty sure I already knew what his answer would be when I mentioned Lily’s name, but there was no choice in the matter.
“If this is about your sister, you’re not to give her what she wants, Amber.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked, sidestepping his words.
“I feel fine,” he said, staring at me curiously. “Why?”
“You don’t remember what Lily did to you?” I asked. I needed to know if she’d put a failsafe in place. If I handed the knife over to her, would she keep her word, or would her magic simply fail, sending him back to the critical list?
“No, I just remember waking up and she was rambling about the knife. You can’t give it to her….”
Drawing my power up from my core, I let it flow outwards as though, with my power alone, I could taste the very essence of Graham’s life. It flowed through him and over him, nothing obviously out of place popping out to me. For all in
tents and purposes, he was healed.
“There’s no choice. If I don’t hand over the Bone Blade by nightfall, this miracle you’ve got the doctors yammering on about all goes away….”
I waited for my words to sink in, but Graham continued to stare at me with his unwavering determination.
“And your point is what? Do we even know what she plans to do with the knife? She’s dangerous enough without giving her some sort of weirdo weapon. How do you know it won’t give her the edge she’s looking for?”
“I don’t, but it’s a risk I can’t take, unless you have some sort of better idea?” Graham remained silent and I folded my arms across my chest. “I went to see Jessica,” I said, watching his face carefully for his reaction.
He swallowed hard and dipped his head, his gaze trained on his hands folded across his lap. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have said he wasn’t bothered by my announcement, but I did know better. I knew exactly how much Graham cared about his daughter, how far he was willing to go to protect her. I even knew that if he was given the opportunity to sell me down the river to save her from being executed, he would do it.
“I thought you wanted nothing to do with her case?”
“Don’t give me that bullcrap, you know that’s not true. I said I wasn’t sure what I could do to help her. We both know she’s guilty; how can I try and save her when she doesn’t even show remorse over the things she’s done?”
“Because that’s not my Jessica, she wouldn’t do those things and not care. Whatever Lily did to her, it changed her.”
“Graham, she’s a vampire. We both know that only brings out the true nature. She had a darkness in her to begin with; getting vamped only amplified it all. But the choices she made, they were her own….”
Graham slammed his fist down against the covers and gritted his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I know my own daughter, and that wasn’t her. They made her do it, she’s innocent, I know it.”
There was no point in arguing with him. He wouldn’t ever believe Jessica was to blame for the terrible crimes she committed with her boyfriend; he was blind to all of her faults. But I’d seen Jessica’s face when she’d tried to rip Graham’s throat out. She had wanted to do it; there was no remorse, no care. She had wanted him dead, and if Nic hadn’t stopped her….
Grim Rites Page 3
