The words on the first page sent shivers down my spine.
The Grimoire of Crimson Kite. Poison can be drunk slowly and feel incredible.
“That is so dark,” I muttered, nodding at the text.
Garrett shrugged. “This is one of the forbidden ones. Technically speaking, we’re not supposed to even look at it, but hell… You only live once, right?”
“Do you know who Crimson Kite was? That has got to be an alias or a pen name or something.”
“I don’t,” Garrett replied. “But I’m assuming it’s a woman, judging by the handwriting.”
“Yeah, a slightly unstable woman,” I said. “Look at the erratic shake in each word. It’s like she was struggling to write like that.”
“Mm-hm. Agreed,” Garrett mumbled. He narrowed his eyes and turned several pages. “It’s at least a decade or two old. Never handled this particular Grimoire myself.”
“So, how do you curate them?” I asked.
“Well, I make sure the pages are intact. I wipe the dust and any residue off with special cleaning instruments and dry cloths. Where the ink begins to fade, I apply a rejuvenation solution that brings it back. Then I spray every page with a preservation serum. All brewed in-house by Preceptors Gracelyn and Parks,” Garrett replied. “It’s tedious. I’ve done six of them so far, with about a hundred left, but I won’t get to do them all. Someone else will pick up where I leave off.”
I nodded, and craned my neck to get a better look at the text on one page. It looked like a poem, with short lines and generous spacing in between, and red, green, and black drawings on the edge—a demon, a dragon, a swirl of strange-looking flowers, and several snakes, all displayed around the actual text. The title sounded interesting.
“The Curse of the Dragon’s Kiss,” I breathed.
Garrett said something, but I missed it. The text seemed to vibrate and jump out of the page. Every word made sense, and I could hear someone whispering in my ear.
There, in the Darkness, where evil and poison live…
My blood ran cold. My skin prickled, as if I’d just been dunked in a vat of ice water.
The Dragon sleeps…
Oh, Monster of Leviathan, Son of Chaos, Eater of Hearts…
I bid you, come hither…
I give you my heart, if you give me your Kiss—
“Harley!” Garrett’s alarmed voice cut through. The slam of a book snapped me out of whatever the hell it was I’d just experienced.
I stared at him, the world around us suddenly back into focus. “What?” I replied.
“What the hell just happened?” Garrett croaked, his eyes wide with fear.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, then rubbed my face. Needles were jabbed into my eyes—or, at least, that was how I felt. I needed several deep breaths to regain my full composure.
“We need to keep you away from this. You’re too susceptible,” he declared, and tied the strings back around the Grimoire. That was the slam I’d heard a few seconds earlier—Garrett closing the Grimoire. He put it back behind the glass casing, before whispering the locking spell and returning to the table.
The strange symbols lit up for a moment, then faded back into the glass.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “What happened? I was just reading that spell.”
“Harley, you weren’t reading anything. You were reciting. Your voice changed, your eyes rolled white into your head, and the table started shaking,” Garrett replied. “Don’t you remember any of that?”
I shook my head, shock clutching my heart. “What the…”
“Yeah, my thoughts exactly! I tried calling out your name a couple of times. It took a few tries to snap you out of it. That Grimoire had quite an influence on you.”
I had no idea. “The letters were vibrating on the page. I heard whispers in my head, but from what Wade told me, that’s pretty normal when looking at an open Grimoire. I didn’t know I’d gone that deep down the rabbit hole. Sorry…”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Just be careful,” Garrett said, giving me a sympathetic smile. “Also, your parents’ Grimoire won’t be here.”
“Oh, I know that.”
“You won’t find anything in the archives, either,” he added. “Trust me, I’ve looked. Shortly after I heard you and Alton and I found out who your parents were, I checked all our records. They’re keeping that Grimoire very hush-hush, in the New York Coven’s Forbidden Section. They’ve removed all other references to it from all the other covens. Everything you need to know will be in New York.”
I was surprised by how helpful Garrett was. His demeanor had certainly changed since the Finch incident, but this was still unexpected. It just didn’t fit his otherwise abrasive, arrogant, and sarcastic nature.
“Thank you, Garrett,” I said. “That’s good to know.”
“Now, come on, let’s go before you hear another Grimoire call out to you.” He chuckled and headed for the door. I was right behind him when he stopped and turned around, cocking his head to the side. “By the way, you have a very powerful connection with the Darkness, just so you know. I don’t think anyone noticed—or told you, if they did.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ah. I see they haven’t taught you about that,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Kind of makes sense. Anyway, it’s not my place to teach you that. You should ask Alton or Preceptor Ickes about Light and Darkness.”
“Oh, yeah, I read… something about that, but I don’t know much. Scratch that, I don’t know anything,” I replied.
He gently squeezed my shoulder. “It’s cool. You should bring it up with Krieger, too, for your next Reading. You’re due for another one, right?” he asked. I nodded. “Yeah, so check that out when you do it, then. But it’s obvious from the way you reacted to Crimson Kite’s Grimoire. You’ve got a strong link to Darkness.”
“Is that bad?”
He laughed. “No. Not necessarily. Granted, most magicals with Darkness connections tend to be on the wrong side of magical laws, but there were and still are enough exceptions to not make it a rule.”
Somehow, that didn’t make me feel much better. Nevertheless, Garrett clearly wasn’t the guy to ask. He’d specifically told me to get informed via Alton, Ickes, or Krieger. The one thing I knew for sure was that this whole affiliation with Light or Darkness wasn’t exactly readily available information. One had to ask the questions, in order to get the answers.
I was exhausted. My eyelids were practically drooping.
Garrett turned around and opened the door, motioning for me to go out first. As soon as I set foot in the hallway, I felt as though I could breathe again. The air inside the Forbidden Section seemed heavy, once I was out. That wasn’t the strangest thing to have happened to me today, but it was certainly near the top. Garrett was right. That Grimoire had had quite an impact on me.
Fourteen
Harley
“What are you two doing here?”
Wade’s voice ripped me from my inner thoughts with the grace of a drunk rhinoceros.
Both Garrett and I froze in front of the Forbidden Section’s closed doors, and slowly turned our heads to find Wade a couple of yards away, glowering like a grumpy old caretaker. He hadn’t gone to bed either, still wearing his pretend-Social-Services attire.
“Wade. Fancy running into you here,” Garrett said.
There was something abruptly different about him, in Wade’s presence. He switched to a dark and on-edge version of himself. There was so much tension between them, I could easily get blown up if I wasn’t careful.
“What were you two doing in the Forbidden Section?” Wade asked, his tone clipped and his arms crossed.
“None of your business, Crowley. Don’t you have some boots to lick or something?” Garrett shot back.
“Whoa. Chill. Both of you,” I snapped. “I was just checking out the Grimoires, that’s all. I do have clearance, if you remember.”
“At this hour?” Wade retorted.
He was angry, and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why.
“What are you, my guardian?” I scoffed.
“You should be resting, Harley. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” Wade said, his voice lower.
“Then why are you lurking around the hallways at this time of night, huh?” Garrett cut in. “It’s not your business what she does and who she hangs out with when she’s off the clock. So butt out, Crowley.”
A muscle ticked in Wade’s jaw. “I don’t get why you’re hanging around her like a little puppy. Or do you think any of us forgot what a jerk you were when you found out her last name was Merlin?”
“In Garrett’s defense, he did apologize,” I said, and put my hands out to stop Garrett from retorting with more hostility. “Listen, you two need to take a deep breath. First of all, I don’t have to answer to anyone for my actions. I’m a big girl, and I know the coven rules. Second, Wade, Garrett, there’s some history between you. I get that. So, for the sake of a more peaceful coven where I don’t have to worry about breaking up a fistfight every time we meet, how about we all grab dinner somewhere nice, and just talk and hash it out? Huh?”
Garrett’s eyebrows went up. Wade’s furrowed into a confused frown.
“I can act as the mediator. We’ll sit you both down, get you some nice drinks and a spaghetti or something—somewhere public and human, so neither of you is tempted to resort to magic in order to make some dumb, macho point—and sort this out. What do you think?” I added.
They looked at each other, then at me, and I suddenly felt vulnerable. There was something in Wade’s gaze and flow of emotions that had the power to disarm me. In contrast, I couldn’t feel Garrett, but his expression said everything: he was surprised and intrigued.