It was a simple spell. Galen positioned himself at my corner. Brody did the same with Aurora. Booker and Lilac were spaced away from one another.
I extended my magic first. That allowed Booker to shape it before Lilac and Aurora jumped in. Our magic flashed hot the second it joined. Then it diminished to a pink wave as it coursed between us.
The magic built, slowly and steadily, and the hum from the book was eclipsed by a different sound. As it built, I knew we were on the right track.
Then, finally, the metal contraption separated on its own and spread. The magic died almost immediately, and I stared down at the book I could now open.
“That was kind of exciting,” I murmured.
Galen clucked his tongue. “More exciting than me?”
“Of course not.”
“She’s placating you,” Booker teased.
Galen gave me a wink. “She’ll feel bad about it later and give me a special massage to make up for the slight.”
I tuned them out and crossed to the book. Before anybody could admonish me not to touch it, I did. The energy was still present, though it seemed calmer.
“Well?” Booker prodded when I finally flipped it open.
I studied the first page. Then I flipped a few more. I couldn’t help being disappointed. “It’s in another language.”
Booker moved closer, looking over my shoulder.
“Is that Latin?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I think that’s Romanian.”
“Romanian? Why would it be in Romanian?”
“Depending on who you talk to, vampire lore was created in Romania.”
“You’re saying we need a vampire to read this?”
Booker nodded again.
Thankfully, I knew where to go to solve that problem.
22
TWENTY-TWO
We all went to the funeral home together.
When we strode into the parlor, a ragtag paranormal group of snarksters, Jareth looked up from his chair, a huge book open on his lap, and raised an eyebrow.
“This doesn’t feel like a social call,” he said.
“We have something we need you to look at.” Galen gestured to the book in my hand. “We believe it belonged to Declan.”
Jareth gently placed his book on the side table next to his chair and accepted the book I handed to him. “Where did you get this?” he asked as he ran his hands over the binding.
“The Voodoo Lounge,” Galen replied.
“I see.” Jareth continued to rub the book, his gaze thoughtful. The flare of his nostrils told me he recognized the book for what it was. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, and when he raised his eyes, he was looking directly at me.
“It’s a grimoire,” I said with more authority than I felt.
