It was obviously an incredibly complicated sigil that required a high level of comprehension and skill to activate. She peered closer at the intricate lines, marveling at the expertise and care that went into them. They had been laid out in chalk and then painted over with a blackish substance she was sure was dried blood.
In the center of the sigil, there was a large empty circle, around which were more designs that appeared to have been scorched, blackening the surrounding floor. As if the lines themselves had burst into flame.
This had to be what Murmur was working on, the reason he wanted her blood. But what was the sigil’s purpose?
She rose from her crouch and scanned the library again, searching for any kind of clue to the purpose of his spell. The sheer quantity of books continued to overwhelm her. She could spend months just exploring the room, looking at all the different titles and figuring out how they were organized, without actually reading anything.
Forget being bored. She would never run out of things to do with access to a place like this.
The desk by the window caught her eye again, so she wandered over to it, careful to walk around the outside line of the big sigil. She knew better than to step into an unknown spell, even one she was pretty sure was inactive.
The papers on the desk were covered in messy sketches, re-creations of what appeared to be sections of the sigil on the floor, and handwriting so messy it was illegible. Carefully, she sorted through the loose sheets, her curiosity burning.
As she moved a stack of papers aside, she uncovered a book that lay open. Only a small corner of one page was revealed, but it was enough.
She recognized it instantly. She’d studied that very same page many times.
Heart pounding, she moved aside the rest of the pages. And there it was. Just as she’d suspected but hadn’t known for sure.
The Book of Gamigin.The book that had been stolen by a demon.Thisdemon. Murmur had stolen her book, and then he’d stolen her.
She lifted her head and stared at the big sigil again.What do I have to do with all this? Why me?
Turning back to the grimoire, she began flipping carefully through the pages. At this point, she knew it like the back of her hand, but maybe there was something that Marie had missed in the scan, something she hadn’t seen in her studies of it in the past, something that would give her some clue as to what—
“What part of ‘do not enter the top floor under any circumstances’ didn’t you understand?”
Her head snapped up at the sound of a familiar gruff voice. A gruff,furiousvoice.
Murmur stood across the room, leaning against the closed doors, arms crossed. At his feet, the smoky cloud of souls churned with agitation.
His snow-white hair spilled over his shoulders and down his chest like an icy waterfall, his tall black horns rising proudly above. He wore a long black robe belted loosely at the hips. It parted at the center, exposing a strip of pale skin that contrasted sharply against the dark fabric.
It was a casual pose, but only a fool would miss the waves of menace rolling off him.
How long had he been there? Long enough, she supposed. And there was no pretending she hadn’t been snooping.
She threw caution to the wind. She’d come this far; there was no point backing down now. “Why did you steal my grimoire?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he pushed off the wall and prowled across the room toward her. His steps were light, noiseless. No wonder she hadn’t heard him come in.
Instinct had her shrinking back toward the window. Somewhere in her mind, she was frustrated by her show of fear, but a greater part of her recognized the danger this unhinged demon presented and warned her to tread carefully.
He came around from the side like he was intentionally herding her, trapping her with her back against the table. He didn’t stop until he stood so close, she had to crane her neck just to see his face. The souls at his feet engulfed hers as well, and she fought back panic at their frigid caress. His proximity was bad enough without actual ghosts touching her.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t tie you up and throw you back in the dungeon right now.”
When she didn’t respond, he leaned forward, using his height to loom over her. The closer he came, the farther she leaned back, arching her spine painfully. He leaned farther still, propping his hands on the desk on either side of her.
She couldn’t move. If she went any farther, she’d end up completely lying on the table, and she refused to take such a submissive position. Her spine protested at the crunch in herlower back, but if she straightened, she would bump into his chest.
A chest that rose and fell with steady breaths. A chest that was the same pale gray as his face and defined with lean muscle. Shadows clung to the indents above his collarbones and the line of his sternum.
She gathered her courage and dragged her gaze up to his. The skin around his eyes was darker than ever. His face was so gaunt, she could see the clear lines of his cheekbones. It was hard to think with him so close, blocking out what little light there was in the dusty library.
“Why do you need my blood?” she heard herself ask.
He stared at her, bloodshot eyes narrowing to slits. Time stretched. Every beat of her heart thudded in her ears.
