Page 63

His stupid smile must be enchanted for how it makes my heart react. “Because wanting her was like being addicted to agony. Now it’s because being without her is torture.” His gaze sweeps me. “I get why you’re upset with her. I thought about it a lot while you were working. I would never want to feel how you did for the last seven years. But you’ve forgotten something very important.”

My brows furrow, and his smile turns sad. “The day you left, she wanted you to stay with us, and you said no.”

My lips part, but my words catch as I remember that fragile look in her eye when she offered me a job so I could stay in the city. My lips close, and I swallow.

Lucas continues softly, “You should know that after she knew the body was Vincentius, she broke down crying because she wasn’t ready to face you again. Your return to the Order hurt her deeply, and she needed time and rest before facing you. We might be hurting each other, but it doesn’t have to be that way.”

His fingers delicately stroke my jaw, my breath catching. “Whenever you’re ready, V. We’ll be waiting for you.”

Damn him and his ability to just forgive and understand me. His lips brush mine, and the kiss is soft, gentle, my heart pulsing as my hands grip his hips. Then he does the unthinkable. He steps forward, his arms sliding along me until our kiss ends and he enfolds me into his warm embrace. My breath catches in my lungs, my eyes squeezing shut. Fuck, why does this feel so good every time? My hands hover on his hips, and I fight to keep them there, but it’s no use. I return his embrace and somehow keep the dam of emotions intact under the building pressure.

A heat crawls up my neck, and I look away sharply, stepping away and collecting the enhanced chalk. “Focus, magician. We have a bookshop to battle through.”

“Yeah, about that. Are you sure I can’t convince you to bring any more weapons?”

I sneer and pull out Lucas’ notebook that holds the rune to Tori’s circle within her loft. “I have everything I need from the Tapestry.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Weavers, I swear.”

I draw the last few runes. The circle complete, I stand and hold out my hands to Lucas. He takes them and uses them to step into my space again. It takes me a moment to focus myself, to bring my magic forth and whisper the ancient word into existence. “Travel.”

CHAPTER 18

PERIPETEIA BOOKSHOP, HAVENPORT, DELORNIA

VALEN

Astoria’s loft is dark and empty. I turn in a circle, scanning the above open bedroom and the books of Creation that sing softly, the vines pouring from their pages wrapping around the railing of the wooden stairs. How long has it been since I was sleeping in that bed above with Lucas and Astoria while we recovered? It might as well be years ago now for how heavy and empty I feel inside.

I turn my back to the stairs and bedroom above before the tendrils of memories suck me back. I don’t need the added torture of what could’ve been. Today is going to be difficult enough as is.

I follow silently behind Lucas as he leads the way to the loft’s front door. He eases it open slowly, checking to ensure no grimoire is waiting to devour us on the other side before opening the door the rest of the way to the iron staircase.

The shop below is like a black pit, with not even a flickering crystal to light the space. Lucas flips a dagger in his hold and goes to step forward, but my hand snaps out to drag him back. “Do try your best to contain your martyr instincts. I’d hate to break my promise to Astoria so soon.”

His eyes dance in amusement, and he sweeps his arm out. “By all means. After you.”

I step out before him. Magic ripples from me, a shield taking form. I keep my hands out of my pockets and carefully hold them away from the iron stairs as we descend. The metal reflects the blue of my eyes, and I carefully scan the shop below. Peripetia is utterly destroyed. Bookcases are turned over, some stuck together at odd angles. Loose, shredded paper litters the ground. A few books hiss and shrink back into the nests they’ve made. Darkness is all around, the crystals long gone from their holders to be snacks to the hungry books.

No grimoire creature emerges yet.

Lucas keeps his rings dark, apart from one that glints dimly so that he can see in the darkness, like I can. He needs to preserve as much of his magic as possible until it’s time to try to break the wards on the basement door. Though I doubt the reckless fool will be able to resist for long. I’m shocked he hasn’t unsheathed the sword yet. I was sure he’d be sprinting down the steps with it by now.

I pause at the last step. Vines coat the hardwood floor, twisting and crawling through the gloom. A treatise written by a potion master sits mangled among the tangled growth, looking like it had been constricted by green snakes until the hardcase cracked and pages burst forth. This must be the carnivorous plant sprouting from one of the books nearby that almost claimed Lucas the last time he was here. One wrong step, and the creature will either drag us into its papery lair or crush us until we pop like the treatise.

I scan the ruined shelves blocking the most straightforward way to the basement. There’s an odd flavor to the air, and I breathe more deeply through my parted lips to try to get a better sense of it. The subtle tang is overwhelmed by the physical pressure upon my tongue. I blink, catching flashes of distortions out of the corners of my eyes and realize what is causing this disturbance. Astoria created a pocket within reality for her grimoires to slip in and out of. The books have shredded their way out, and the tattered remains of the pocket drift through the shop.

I flex my fingers, my magic swirling around us. We agreed to remain as silent as possible to keep the risk of engaging with the grimoires at a minimum, but I take the necessary risk for four quiet words. “Step where I step.”

I don’t wait for him to agree. I step onto the floor, and the soles of my shoes glow with the power of Preservation that keeps the plant unaware of our presence. I don’t look behind me to ensure Lucas is following. It’s an exercise in trust, and I grind my teeth to keep my focus ahead.

We follow an easy-to-traverse section. It’s more of a roundabout way, but trying to clear the nests will agitate the grimoires and provoke an unnecessary fight. Besides, I don’t particularly enjoy the disturbing sensation from the distorted pockets. The edges ripple, like tendrils reaching forth.

The grimoires are watching us from the darkness, their magic humming just out of sight. Glints of the Soul Threads in their bindings wink at me, but I resist their lure of power. There is no book within this place that I would risk becoming distracted by.

I pause. Below us, vines lie limp where they have been ripped apart, like something clawed them free of the wood floor. There are pits and loose planks, but there is enough of the floorboards intact for us to walk upon. I step onto the cleared floor, pausing when I do to listen. No rustling of grimoires surges, and I take another cautious step before proceeding. Lucas’ boots thudding on the wrecked hardwood behind me is a relief, and he steps up beside me to perform his own scan. Our eyes meet once, Lucas’ jaw tensing, his glowing honey eyes taking on a tinge of blue from the light of mine. He withdraws his sword, and I nod in approval when his nine rings remain black.

Whatever cleared this path, it was something very powerful. The stacks cave in where the path originates. My fingers drum against my thigh as I ponder the source. It could be a grimoire. The bear monstrosity Lucas described chasing him could be carving out its territory, or perhaps it’s the work of the blade-legged thing that Lucas unleashed on the Magistrate’s officers.