by Dannika Dark
In a daze, she carried the red book up to her room. Her nightgown hung flat like a red nightmare, and she couldn’t get it off fast enough. The thought of returning to Cyrus filled her with dread, but Niko needed her. She’d spent all night ruminating over their situation and concluded that she had no choice but to return.
Gem’s wardrobe was whimsical and comfortable. She didn’t really own anything that said “I mean business.” After putting on camo leggings, she pulled out her chunky black boots—the ones she used to wear when Viktor would invite her on dangerous assignments—and laced them up. Cyrus wasn’t very tall, so maybe matching his height would give him a complex. Poor Niko. She couldn’t imagine how helpless he’d felt as a boy, and to wind up stuck with a repugnant brute like Cyrus?
She yanked on her black sweater. “Servant? More like a slave,” she grumbled, thinking about how Cyrus was treating him. Tattered rags? Whippings? Serving tea on his knees? The thought infuriated her.
After twisting her purple hair into two small buns, she grabbed her crystal pendant and slipped it around her neck. Gem needed all the positive energy she could get.
“Disgusting mouth breathers.”
A throat cleared.
Gem squeaked and spun around.
Wyatt lingered in the doorway, wearing nothing but socks, jeans, and a loose grey hat. “Who are you talking to?”
Gem blew out a breath. “Myself. No one.” She gathered the red book into her arms and clutched it to her chest. “I have to go.”
He planted his hands on either side of the door. “I don’t think so.”
Gem strode across the gold rugs, which overlapped and weren’t lined up in any particular direction. She liked it that way, and it gave her bedroom a real bohemian feel.
When she saw that Wyatt wasn’t budging, she poked her cold finger into his belly button and gave him a tiny shock, which made him hop back. “I have no choice,” she informed him before squeezing her way past him.
“Hold up, buttercup.” Wyatt jogged ahead of her and walked backward. He looked so boyish in that hat that Gem sometimes wondered why a man as old as him would wear it. “What the immortal hell is so special about that book, and why can’t you mail it to them?”
Gem slowed her pace. “I don’t know what’s in this book. I can’t read all of it. But if I don’t bring it to him, he’ll kill Niko.”
“Kill? As in…” Wyatt made a slicing motion across his neck.
“Yes. After they torture him.”
“And you think they’ll just let him go if you give him the book?”
Flustered, she stopped and swung her eyes up to the high arched ceiling. “I don’t know.”
Wyatt folded his arms. “So you’re telling me you don’t have a plan. You’re just going to walk into the fire?”
“Do you have any better ideas? Because I don’t. And there’s no way I’m going to stay here and hold on to this book if it means Niko dies.”
“Can’t he fight them? He’s tough, Gem. We’ve all seen him fight.”
Gem couldn’t explain what Niko had done, and she wasn’t sure Niko would want Keystone to know he’d signed away his freedom. “They put a metal cuff on him, and I don’t know how it works, but he’s mortal.”
Wyatt anchored his hands on his hips and slid his lower jaw from side to side. “That changes things, doesn’t it? I’ve seen those pop up once or twice on the black market, but they’re hard to acquire. They say the metal’s infused with some kind of magic that suppresses immortal gifts.”
“I know. He put one on me.”
Wyatt’s eyes widened as she walked past him. He bounced in front of her again and gripped her shoulders. “What did it feel like? What did it do?”
“I couldn’t feel my light anymore. I felt like a human.”
He pinched the whiskers on his chin. “I wonder if it would work on a Gravewalker. Imagine, walking into a graveyard or public place and no spooks. Nothing but fleshwalkers.”
“Flesh what?”
“Us. The living.”
“I don’t know. It didn’t seem to affect my Relic knowledge.”
“Yeah, but that’s wired into your brain cells.”
Gem closed her eyes for a moment and took a micronap while Wyatt rambled on about the possibilities of blocking a Gravewalker’s power.
“Hey, you should sleep.” Wyatt startled her awake when he shook her shoulders.
The book almost slid from her arms, and she clutched it tighter. “I wish Viktor were here. He’d know what to do.”
Wyatt tucked his hands in his pockets. “Haven’t heard from him since yesterday, but that’s not unusual. It’s the last leg of their journey. They’re on their own.”
“And so are we.”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Look, we’ve got a bunch of wolves guarding the property. You’re safe here.”
She stalked off. “But Niko isn’t safe.”
He tugged the back of her sweater, forcing her to stop. “If I can’t talk you into staying, at least let me tag you with a chip.”
Her brow furrowed. “Huh?”
He robbed her view of the stairs when he jumped in front of her again. “A tracking device. I got a new batch in, and they’re the size of a coin. I can slip one into the heel of your shoe. Or maybe cut open the leather on that book and—”
She swung away. “You’re not touching it.”
“What’s the big deal? It’s just an old book.”
“Wyatt Blessing, if you put a knife anywhere near this book—or any of my books, for that matter—I’ll invite every ghost in Cognito to the mansion for a big party, and you’re the guest of honor.”
His eyes widened, and he looked at her sideways. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wouldn’t I?” She rocked on her heels. “Books are precious, and we must protect them.”
“If you say so, Mother Teresa. At least give me your shoe.” He gestured to her feet. “I’ll put it inside, near your toes. Don’t worry, I won’t cut them up if you don’t want me to. Just don’t take off those slippers, or you’ll never find your way back to Kansas.”
She smiled at the Wizard of Oz reference.
Wyatt folded his arms. “I can’t come get you myself, but at least I’ll know where to find you if he doesn’t let you go.”
“Or find my body,” she murmured.
He put his hand on her back and led her toward the stairs. “If you ever die, go where you’re supposed to go. Don’t linger in the afterlife. You might see a light or a person or hear a voice, but whatever you do, don’t hang around.”
She smiled up at him. “I’ll hang around and haunt you.”
“You know what’s worse than dying? Becoming a lost soul. They inhabit the earth and forget their life. Even if you stayed here, you would lose pieces of yourself.”
“Are you scared of death?”
He slowed to a stop, eyes downcast. “Pain scares me. Dying? Not so much. The best advice I can give you is not to get attached to anyone.”
“Why?”
“Besides revenge, it’s the number one reason souls stay behind. Fleshwalkers never see what happens to a soul that chooses to stay. I had nine sisters who died, but they all went to the next life. Gravewalkers don’t linger, because we know exactly what a mad soul looks like.”
“But Gravewalkers can see the dead. Doesn’t that change things when it comes to family members? If you know the spirit, you can remind them about their life, can’t you?”
He shook his head. “A soul without a body is like water without a container. It has nothing to channel and move it. Imagine tossing water into space. The droplets would spread out and lose form.”
“Doesn’t water vaporize in space?”
“Smarty-pants.”
Gravewalkers had such a peculiar way of looking at death. “Have you ever lost anyone who stayed behind in the afterlife?”
Wyatt blanched and rubbed his hand down his stomach, eyes fixed on a faint trail of hair
. “Just promise you won’t linger.”
“I don’t plan on dying.”
When his green eyes lifted, he gave her a grim look. “No one ever does.”
After Wyatt put a tracking device in her boot, Gem called the number Arcadius had given her to let them know she was ready. Wyatt wanted the number, and Gem didn’t see the harm since it was probably untraceable. It would keep Wyatt occupied. Just in case she didn’t return, Gem left a note in her room for Viktor. It explained her actions, removing any blame he might place on Wyatt for not intervening. Wyatt was just doing his job, and a Gravewalker was no match for these men.
Gem placed the book in a brown bag, slung it over her shoulder, and let Raven’s father drive her into the city. Crush didn’t pry into her business, but he also had no idea she was going back into the lion’s den. Her silence during the drive must have bothered him, because he kept giving her long looks at every red light. Gem wasn’t a naturally quiet person, and the first time they met, she’d talked his ear off.
“If you need help, give me a call.” Crush handed her his business card, which had the number and address for his auto shop. “My cell phone number’s on the back.”
What a loyal man he was. To do all this without asking any questions, all because he was Raven’s father? Gem would forever envy those who knew that type of love and devotion.
She thanked him and got out. As tempting as it was to accept his offer, Gem wouldn’t dream of involving Raven’s father in her deadly affairs. It was brave of him and his Shifter buddies to guard Keystone, but Gem drew the line when it came to endangering a mortal.
As soon as Crush sped away, Gem let the business card slip from her fingers into the storm drain. She couldn’t chance Cyrus finding that card.
After a short walk, she passed a tobacco shop and waited in an abandoned alley. Three minutes later, Arcadius backed up into the narrow space, and when the trunk popped open, she got in. He bound her hands in front and blindfolded her. She could have easily removed the blindfold, but to what avail? During the drive, she cried a little into the blindfold. No choice was the right choice. Every decision yielded a number of different outcomes.
She hugged the satchel and listened to the tires humming across the pavement. Arcadius hadn’t searched the bag or attempted to take it from her. It gave Gem the impression that these men who followed Cyrus didn’t think independently; all they did was follow orders. They were less like a team and more like soldiers. And Cyrus was less of a general than he was a dictator.
The car finally stopped, and Arcadius hauled her out of the trunk. As he led her into the building, he kept a tight grip on her arm. She thought about Niko’s experiences as a blind man and wondered how much information she could gain from her other senses.
Concrete beneath my feet. A curb. Smells like cigarettes. A smoker must be standing close by. Definitely in the city. Seven steps to a door. The inside smells musty. Linoleum floor. This isn’t someone’s mansion. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen steps. Another door, but it’s locked. He’s got a key.
Gem coughed and heard the sound of her voice bouncing off walls. It wasn’t a large room or even a hallway. More like a foyer. Arcadius punched something into a digital keypad, and a lock clicked.
This place was probably in the Bricks, but it was likely an apartment building with a basement. Maybe there were multiple doors to multiple dwellings, but she was certain Cyrus didn’t share a hall with anyone, because when they reached the bottom of the stairs, they were still in a narrow corridor as Arcadius opened the door to his home.
The door wasn’t steel—that much she knew. From the inside, it reminded Gem of a hotel or apartment door. It made her wonder why they bothered with all the digital locks if someone could probably kick the door down or break in with a battering ram.
These men were ruthless and strategic, but they weren’t very bright.
He shoved her inside, and Gem stumbled over her chunky boots before falling to her knees. The bag hit the floor, and she quickly removed the blindfold.
Moisture dripped from Cyrus’s dark hair, but it wasn’t sweat. He looked relaxed, his skin flushed and smelling of soap. She stared at his bare feet and sausage-like toes. None of them wore shoes in the house. Maybe it was their custom or maybe it was to protect the wood floor, but she hoped that he didn’t make her take off her shoes. The tracking device needed to stay with her at all times.
Cyrus knelt in front of her, a paring knife in one hand, half an apple in the other. He bit down on the apple to hold it in his mouth and then gripped her wrists with his meaty fingers. Cyrus shoved the slim blade between her hands and cut the zip tie. The hard plastic fell to the floor, and Gem quickly scooped up the satchel.
He chewed a bite of his apple and stood up. “Don’t disappoint me, girl. Is that what I think it is?”
“Where’s Niko?”
He jerked his head to the side. “In the back. Alive.”
“You promised to let him go.”
His narrow eyes darkened. “If you don’t let me see what’s in the bag, I’ll never let you go. How would you like that?”
Gem swallowed hard and slowly unbuckled the flap. While she did that, Cyrus handed his apple and knife over to Lykos before wiping his fingers on his black pants.
She pulled out the heavy book, and Cyrus’s eyes glimmered at the sight of it.
“You promised,” she reminded him.
He knelt down and pulled the book in front of him. His expression altered as he looked upon the cover with reverence. His fingers skimmed across the red leather binding. “There she is.” After flipping open the first page, he let out a breath. Then he looked at Gem as if she were an afterthought. “I will remove his cuff.”
She sprang to her feet and darted down the hall. Gem pushed open every door in search of Niko, but she found him kneeling in the middle of her bedroom, his head down and long hair obscuring his face.
Gem sat in front of him. Could he ever forgive her for taking matters into her own hands? “Why did you hide it in plain sight? In my study, of all places?”
“Because the only place a book would be safe is with you.”
When Niko lifted his gaze, Gem clutched her pendant. A deep cut severed his bottom lip, and his left eye was swollen shut.
“When I first joined Keystone, I searched for a place to hide it,” he explained, his voice tired and hollowed out. “A man never hides something truly valuable in his immediate space. It lived in one of Viktor’s libraries for a while until he mentioned donating books to auctions and charities. I had no choice but to move it to your secret room.”
“But nobody knows where my study is. Well, no one except for Viktor and Raven. I’ve never taken anyone in there. Not that it’s a big secret, but I need peace and quiet when I’m working, and if people know about it, they’ll pop in any old time they want. How did you find it?”
A phantom smile briefly touched his lips. “You leave behind an energy trail. The ribbons of light always led me to the wall. One day when you were out with Claude, I went inside.” Niko heaved a sigh. “I should have buried it.”
Gem sat on one leg and bent her other knee. “Weren’t you afraid I’d find and translate it?”
“Before the owner died, he mocked us. He said that not even the high scholars could read that language.”
“But someone wrote it. Someone obviously knew.” Gem glanced at the closed door and lowered her voice. “I found a book, Niko. One that had direct translations of an old language written above select passages. The translations are symbols, and they’re the same as the ones in your book. Someone figured it out. Maybe he was a Relic like me, or maybe he found the book and had no idea what any of it meant, but he kept it anyway.”
Niko’s face went ashen. “Tell me you did not bring that book.”
“No,” she said quietly. “But someone knew the language. If there’s one, there could be more. You can’t hide from this, Niko. People from that era might still be alive. You can’t
protect language. Does Cyrus know it?”
Niko shook his head but looked uncertain.
“He’s had a thousand years to learn it.”
Niko clenched his fists and leaned forward. “Then why did you bring it?”
“For the same reason you came here in the first place. Viktor would have never allowed you to negotiate on Cyrus’s turf. You came here knowing that you’d never leave. Keeping the book away from him hasn’t solved your problems, so let’s see what happens.” She laced her fingers over her knee. “It’s a spellcasting book, isn’t it? I said a word, and it worked.”
He frowned. “What worked?”
“Has anyone ever explained how to cast spells from the book? You don’t just read the words, Niko. You have to touch them, and it activates the energy. I’m willing to bet that only a Mage can unlock the power. It’s a process of give-and-take when you read the words, like it needs your core energy.” Gem reached out and seized Niko’s wrist. “Don’t you understand? Even if Cyrus learns how to read it, does he know how to use it? I bet he doesn’t, and that means it’ll always be useless to him.”
“Then what do you propose?”
Gem straightened her posture. “If I can convince him to let me stay and translate the book, I might find something in there I can use against him. Something that will get us out of this mess.”
“You don’t understand the power in the book.”
“If I can wield energy balls, I can wield words.”
Niko appeared statuesque before her. So much taller than she was. His stony expression gave nothing away as he sat quietly and stared into the void. Though Gem was a Mage of fifty, she felt like a child at his feet. Ancients lived more lifetimes than she could imagine. They had witnessed the evolution of science and religion. Some immortals went mad after a few thousand years, and others took their own lives. The vast majority simply died in battles or after attacks. Gem had rarely met anyone Niko’s age, and she’d most certainly never met anyone who was over five thousand, but she knew they were out there. Immortals that old terrified her. No one lived that long because of luck.
