Page 21

House Vesper

House Sanguine

House Tenebrous

House Erebus

House Caligo

Ugh. My head is pounding.

I glance longingly at the bar, knowing more whiskey-Scotch-bourbon will just make it worse tomorrow, and then I'll have to deal with a grumpy-ass bear who's probably going to be headache-inducing enough himself. I shake my head and look back at the House Sanguine note and the marginalia next to it:

"Ascension Gala hosted by House Sanguine. You will be offered a toast. Do not drink it."

"Right," I say brightly. "Don't drink the toast at the Ascension Gala. Maybe that is helpful."

My voice is violently cheery, and a little maniacal laugh spills out of my lips. I clap a hand over my mouth because the sound becomes strange and haunting in the huge, domed room, and it's already creepy enough without that fucking noise.

There's no notes next to the other houses, and I stare at the names one more time, trying to memorize everything on the page: Nocturne, Vesper, Sanguine, Tenebrous, Erebus, Caligo.

Sanguine, I remember briefly, as the vampire that I threw up on, which makes sense. Sanguine in Latin is related to blood, so a vampire ruling that House does indeed track. I shudder at the thought of being given a toast by a vampire.

"I guess they're resistant to bloodborne illnesses," I say weakly.

The page turns on its own accord, and I startle briefly, then take a moment to sip out of the large black bottle full of cold water before turning my attention to the next page.

It's not more information on the houses, which would have been helpful, or the rituals I'll face. Really wonderful things. Basically, another day in academia. Just, you know, with more money.

When I finally get the courage to put the water down and take in the next pages, it's a vivid, non-medieval portrait of a giant bear. Black and brown fur, eyes glowing red like coals, talons and claws outstretched, massive teeth, the lips pulled back in a roar. Basically, if I saw one of these bears in real life, I'd probably shit myself before I was able to make my legs move.

"The MacTavish shifters are arrogant," the marginalia reads. "Dramatic Highland beasts. The clan itself older than most of the houses and their sworn guardians. But their blood oath to the heir is absolute. If a MacTavish is growling, do not fear them—they protect the heir. If a MacTavish tells you to run, run. And as always, the way to the bear's heart is through his stomach. Honey, honeyed words, and treats and cakes are always welcome by this clan of druids and bear shifters."

"Druids," I say.

I haven't had time to read for fun in ages. And the more I read about what should be fantasy, the more it becomes obvious that not reading fantasy books may put me at a distinct disadvantage.

I stare at the book. "What else should I know?"

The pages don't move. I lean back in the chair, thoughtful and slightly annoyed, and the book creaks, then slams itself shut. Not wanting to prick myself again, and, frankly, exhausted and overwhelmed, I decide it's time to pack it in for the night.

I'm also suddenly, violently aware of how absolutely foul I smell. I sniff at my armpit, showing I have the self-preservation of a fruit fly, and recoil immediately.

Okay, so first order of business is a very hot shower, scrubbing myself clean. And then? A bed.

I stare at the house. All around me, the massive bookcases tower overhead. The gorgeous arched beams support the dome on the ceiling. Stained-glass windows, now shimmer slightly in the dark of night. And reflecting what? The lights inside?

"Maybe you could tell me where to go?"

The door to the library clicks open.

The hair on the back of my neck stands up, even though the weirdness of the book should have prepared me for this. I have a feeling getting used to the house's responsiveness to me is gonna take a little bit longer than either of us would like.

I stand up and stretch, then head back over to the bar to grab my pack, shuffling, shoving my notebook and pen back where they go, then frowning and wondering if the curse affects the Moleskine as well as the book itself, and decide to chance it. It's not like I'm gonna take the Moleskine off this property. I'm not even sure I could leave Midnight House if I wanted to at this point, nor do I have a clear clue where the front door is.

"Are you going to show me where to go?" My voice carries oddly through the room, and no sooner have I spoken than the lights in the back of the library flicker off, save for the ones over the bar and heading out the door.

"Right. So we're going to go into the light. Should I go gently?" I say in my best impression of the stand-up comedian.