He set his mug down on one of the shelves and took the book from her gingerly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, these aren’t mine. I don’t have any hidden books.”
She looked at him disbelievingly. “This is your house, isn’t it? Your office?”
Brow furrowed, he flipped open the book, pausing when he saw the word on the inside cover.
“What’s that mean? Sakkara. What is that?”
He didn’t say anything at first as he ran his fingers over the script. “That’s my mother’s name.” As he flipped through the book, his face turned rigid as he perused the contents. “You said ‘them.’ There are more?”
Jade jerked her head towards the other two books that she’d pulled out. He went over to them and hunkered down, touching them gently and then recoiling.
“I’ve never seen these books before,” he murmured.
“Really?” she said dryly.
“I’m telling the truth. I didn’t know these were here. They’re definitely my mother’s. I recognize her handwriting and some of the magic, but…” He swallowed hard and looked solemn and grave. “I had no idea about these. She… I didn’t think anyone practiced demon magic. And certainly not her.”
He looked wrecked and she felt her anger chipped away by the lost, confused look on his face.
However, she pushed aside her useless sympathy. Paris peered down into the cubbyhole again and reached in deeper, pulling out a worn, water damaged envelope. He flipped it over in his hands.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s addressed to me. I think it’s from my mother.”
She hustled over to him and made a ‘hurry up’ gesture with her hands. He stared at her.
“Don’t you dare play the privacy card on this one. Full disclosure, English. I just found a secret cache of demon books in your house. You’re telling me what that note says.”
Paris turned it over in his hands a few times more and she made an impatient sound.
“I swear to god, I will rip it from your hands and tear it open with my teeth if I have to.”
He slid one finger under the seal to force it open. He pulled out a single sheet of paper and read it, frowning as he did.
“What’s it say?” she asked, poking him with a finger hard in the shoulder like a child.
“It’s from my mother,” he confirmed, his voice sounding a little dazed as he read from the note. “‘I’m sorry you’re reading this. I hoped you’d never find these grimoires. They have been charmed to only respond to someone touched by demon magic, and if that’s happened, I want you to have all the knowledge you can. All my knowledge. Whatever has happened, I hope it’s not a consequence of my actions. It’s so hard to tell with demons. They lie, they cheat. They’ll do anything to get free of their world. But their tenacity, their immorality is sometimes what’s needed. I’m sure you’ll think less of me knowing I practiced demon magic. All I can say is, I did what needed to be done. My intentions were always the best, even if my methods were not. Be careful.’”
He stopped and just stared down at the letter.
“That’s it?”
Paris nodded not looking up at her, fingering the paper in his hands. He flipped through the first grimoire quickly, and then grabbed the other two and coursing through the pages, probably looking for any other stray notes.
Nothing.
He set the books on his desk carefully and didn’t say anything for a few long moments.
“We’ll need to study these,” his voice was a little rough.
She eyed her coffee cup on the floor, nearly empty and then back at the grimoires. She still had the greasy, unclean feeling on her hands from when she handled the first one and she recalled the desire to take a shower after reading the demon books at the library. She sighed.
The task at hand would require more coffee.
*
Paris watched Jade out of the corner of his eye as she read through one of the grimoires.
She seemed to have none of his hesitation, none of his reluctance and was plowing into it, typing notes on her laptop in quick staccato bursts.
He didn’t want to start reading the one in front of him.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, about what it meant, about the grimoires themselves. His mother dealt in demon magic and he’d never known.
As a child, he was like most others, not realizing his mother was an entirely separate person apart from being his parent.
He thought he left behind that childish notion after her death, when he became coven leader and struggled through his job the same way he assumed she must have. He thought he gained a deeper understanding of her as a witch, as a person, as a leader.
Now, Paris felt like a child again, like his mother was some aloof stranger and he didn’t know her at all.
With a sigh, he forced himself to focus on the words in front of him, tried to force his brain to decipher the spells and hexes in the book, the notations, the history blurbs, and see what sense he could make of it. He immediately recognized some bits and pieces as part of the wards Hannah had provided to him to set around the house. He wondered if his mother had based her spells on them or if somehow, her spells were out there somewhere, and someone else was basing magic on her work.
At any rate, demon magic or not, he felt more confident and at ease with his mother’s magic and he copied down her wards to set them against the house, protecting it from demons. He wished he had enough power to ward the entire coven but he’d settle for at least his house while Jade stayed with him.
Her fingers typed away again, tickety-tacking on the keys and then she paused and looked up at him.
“If the scrying mirror doesn’t work, I still want to see the records of everyone in the Coven.”
He was amazed at how much she was able to keep in her brain, juggling ideas and threads of conversations. After refreshing his mind on the topic, he remembered that she’d asked him for all the personal data on the Coven members.
“If the mirror doesn’t work, I’ll see what I can do.”
She pursed her lips and looked back down at her laptop. “You know people say stuff like that when they don’t really want to do something.”
Jade had a sharp tongue and wasn’t afraid to blurt out the uncomfortable truth. She was right, however. He didn’t want to provide her with the Coven records and he’d hoped that the platitude would appease her for long enough for it to become a moot point.
“You’re quite intelligent,” he mused.
She looked up at him, unimpressed. “Is that supposed to be flattering? I don’t need you to pet or stroke my ego.”
“No, of course not.”
Jade rolled her eyes. “Now you just sound patronizing. Stick to your book,” she said, returning to one of his mother’s grimoires. “You’ll get a lot further with it than you will with me.”
He studied her for a moment more. She’d make a strong addition to the Coven and not just for the power of her magic. Paris tapped his fingers against the table as he thought. She could possibly even work with Hannah on the council. Jade didn’t seem the type to be intimidated or awed by anyone – why should werewolves, vampires, Fae or other magical beings be any different? Her natural inclination to be distrustful and suspicious would probably serve them well and he made a mental note to discuss it with Hannah.
Or she could work with the Counter-Magic Department - her magic was strong enough she could likely un-hex anything that had gone awry. She would likely be able to untangle most corrupted spells and charms without doing the damage that generally came from counter-magic.
She might do well in the Supernatural Defense Department, working with other witches and magical creatures when they had a rogue element on their hands. Tracking and capturing supernaturals was always a tricky business, but she was smart and again, her power gave her a lot of flexibility.
“Oh my god!” she exclaimed loudly, glaring at him. “You’re not even being subtle.
I can hear you thinking and your power is just humming along and it’s all directed at me. Jesus, tone it down a notch, I’m trying to work here.”
Paris was startled. He knew his power was a tangible force that most witches sensed, but no one had ever mentioned it being distracting or directed at them before. He made a conscious effort to rein his power in, focus his mind and look back down at the grimoire in front of him.
“Thank you,” she said, sighing, though her tone nothing close to grateful. More like annoyance or chastisement.
“There are some wards here that I’d like to try instead of the ones that are currently on the house,” he said, picking up the book.
She made shooing motions with her hands. “Go. Go do witchy things elsewhere. But do it quietly.”
“You know, I’m considered the most powerful witch in the Coven,” he muttered to himself wryly as he left the kitchen.
“Color me impressed,” she replied sarcastically and he was surprised she’d heard him. “I’d be more impressed if you just focused on keeping me from dying a horrible demon-related death.”
He ignored the feeling of being chased out of his own kitchen and stopped by his office to grab some chalk for the wards and sigils he wanted to try. He cleared his mind as he worked, focusing on the runes and symbols, trying to infuse them with as much magic as he could muster.
Unlike the other wards he erected, these felt like they drained him significantly. After only three of them, he felt worn and thin - his magic stretched; feeling tender and sore even as he pulled and pushed at it. He could feel the strength of the symbols - much more powerful than the ones he’d used before and he wondered just exactly what his mother had been dealing with demons for that necessitated her creating and using such strong wards.
After this crisis was over, he wanted to sit down with his mother’s grimoires, the demon grimoires, and study them alongside her other books to see if he could construct any kind of timeline or design bits of history by charting the progression of her magic.
He wondered if he could gather up enough witches in the Coven to see if they could ward the Covenstead at least. On the other hand, he mused, introducing demon magic, and having to explain why to a group of witches was a horrible, ill-thought-out idea.
Though draining, the work was rhythmic and repetitive and lulled him into an almost meditative state. He was surprised as he cast the last rune on the last ward to see that it was past lunch. He’d spent all morning warding the house, time becoming fluid and inconsequential as he worked. He made his way back to the kitchen and found Jade still seated in the chair she’d been in when he left, but at some point she must have showered, her ponytail still wet and leaving faint damp spots on her t-shirt.
“There’s a sandwich over there for you, if you want,” she said, jerking her chin to the counter. It was a simple thing - some sliced meat he knew he had in the fridge, a slice of cheese and some mustard. An apple sat next to it and he appreciated the thought as his stomach growled at the first bite.
“Thank you.”
She shrugged off his thanks. “No big deal. I made one for myself and figured it’s just as easy to make two as one.”
Paris ate the sandwich in a few quick bites, washing it down with a glass of water. She looked pointedly at the apple and then back at him and he bit into it, feeling like he’d just been guilted into eating his fruits and veggies.
“Do you feel up to a visit to the Covenstead? I’d like to get Callie’s opinion on one of my mother’s grimoires and check in with her to see what they’ve got. Also with the witches that were investigating your attack.”
“You had people checking into it? Like detectives?”
The look on her face made him feel like he kicked puppies for a living. Like she didn’t believe he had witches investigating what had happened.
“Of course.”
“Oh.” She blinked a few times and then swallowed. “Okay, sure. We can go to the Covenstead.”
“All right. I’m going to take a quick shower and then we’ll head out.”
He left her still working in the kitchen and came back down twenty minutes later, his magic already feeling less bruised and sore than it had been when he finished the wards. She packed up her laptop and cords and made a fresh pot of coffee, finding a travel mug in his cupboards and filling it. She had a hard time trying to juggle the mug, her laptop and her purse so she handed him her laptop bag expectantly. He took it without comment and they were off.
He’d been taking care of some work from home, but as they arrived at the Covenstead, he was nearly overwhelmed with other witches wanting to speak to him, set up meetings with him, or get his opinion on things. Jade managed to grab her laptop bag awkwardly from him and head down to the library in the dungeon while he headed for his office to get a few things shuffled around and get his assistant’s help on rescheduling the rest.
By the time Paris made it down to the basement of the library, Jade was already sitting with Callie and Henri in a quiet corner of the dungeon, talking in hushed voices over his mother’s grimoire. Callie looked up at Paris with wide, expressive eyes as he came over, her entire face screaming at him how she felt about the revelation that his mother practiced demon magic. Sympathy, confusion, apprehension and concern all telegraphed in her eyes. Henri kept his eyes turned toward Jade and the grimoire, studiously avoiding Paris’ gaze. He didn’t seem afraid, more intimidated than anything else.
Jade looked up at him as well. Of the three of them, hers was the most uncomplicated expression. Clear, seemingly unbothered and focused. “You get the unwashed masses sorted out upstairs?”
“Yes,” he said dryly, coming to sit with them, next to Callie and across from Jade and Henri.
Jade tilted her head at Callie. “Callie wants to know if you’re going to try to ward the Covenstead with our shiny new demon wards.”
Callie bit her lip. “It’s just, I mean, should we ward everywhere Jade is? I don’t know anything about demon wards so I didn’t know if that meant that everyone would be able to sense them and that might lead to a whole bunch of questions.” She looked at Paris.
“They were quite draining.” Paris admitted slowly, watching surprise flicker over Jade’s face as he said it. “I don’t know if I could ward the entire Covenstead. Perhaps only the library? Most witches don’t come down here very often, not that it’s a commentary on the library, but most witches tend to stick to the spells they know.”
Callie hesitated and Paris could see the internal debate going on in her head. He’d known her so long and so well he knew exactly what the problem was. She wanted to help, but was concerned about using demon magic herself.
She seemed to square her shoulders. “Can I help?”
“I should be all right,” he replied, touched by her offer but not wanting her to practice any dark magic if she didn't have to.
“You can teach me,” Jade said firmly, pushing herself to her feet.
“It was demanding, but I can do it alone.” He didn’t want Jade to have to practice it either.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not some shrinking violet.” She looked at Callie, somewhat sheepishly. “Uh, not that you are either but…” She fidgeted for a moment. “Um. Sorry. Or whatever. But,” she said as she turned back to Paris, confident again, “I’m helping.”
“I can help too,” Henri said suddenly and Jade turned to him and kind of patted him on the shoulder.
“Henri, I don’t think your magic is… Mean enough for it.”
Paris was surprised by her insight. She hadn’t actually worked the wards herself but must have intuited that they did require a certain strength of intent behind them. Callie might have been able to manage it but from what he sensed of Henri’s magic, he wouldn’t have a chance.
“Oh thank god,” Henri said quickly, his body relaxing from its tense state. “I want to help, I do, but demon magic scares the crap out of me.”
Jade patted him again. “Yeah. But thanks.�
� She looked back at Paris. “Let’s do this.”
He was sure her tone was meant to be firm and strong, but with her bruised and bandaged body and the dim, greenish ambient light in the dungeon, it only emphasized how fragile and very breakable she looked. If she hadn’t been so insistent about learning, he would try to talk her out of it. As it was, all he could do was hope that with both of their magic combined, their wards would pack one hell of a punch.
Chapter 14
Jade could never admit it out loud, could never even hint at it.
But demon magic? It was fun.
Okay, so it wasn’t as much fun as it was interesting. Intriguing and twisted up, like a really big logic puzzle. As Paris taught her the symbology behind some of the warding and helped her focus her magic to work the runes, she found herself enjoying it. Even with her limited knowledge of magic and even more limited knowledge of demons, she knew it was a bad, bad thing.
She shouldn’t like it. She should hate it, fear it, loathe it, mistrust it.
Instead she found herself eager to learn more. In a creepy way, demon magic made sense to her.
Callie and Henri had gotten spooked by it. Jade hardly made it halfway through her first ward when Callie shuddered and Henri turned a little green around the edges. Paris gently suggested they grab a bite to eat or some coffee and they’d hustled it out of the library like the place was on fire.
She could see what Paris meant about the warding being draining. She wasn’t exactly in top notch condition with her stitches, bruising and cast, but she felt even more wiped out after only two wards. Her wrist throbbed with a cold ache that deepened and made her wince slightly when she started on the next rune. She didn’t know how many she could complete until she would absolutely have to stop. Paris had indicated there were about five he’d like her to learn and they needed to be repeated over the library in various spots for maximum efficacy. She’d pestered him on why he was placing them where he was but he argued that learning the wards was taxing enough without learning about ward placement just yet.
Trial by Fire (Covencraft Book 1) Page 20
