Suyin stared at the grimoire in her lap without reading it. Her lack of focus annoyed her. She hadn’t had any trouble reading before Murmur had stormed in, arguing with himself. In fact, she’d been completely engrossed, her mind spinning with excitement as she dove into this incredible collection of knowledge.
There was so much information here, it would take a lifetime to go through it all. She didn’t know how much time she had, but she knew it was limited. She ought to be using every waking second to absorb as much knowledge as she could.
But she couldn’t focus for shit as soon as Murmur showed up.
Instead, she let her hair slide out from behind her ear and fall over her face, and she watched him work from behind it, hoping for any sort of clue as to what the hell he was doing.
He was currently muttering under his breath as he scribbled rapidly on paper.The Book of Gamiginwas open on the desk in front of him. Occasionally he would crumple up the page he was writing on and toss it over his shoulder.
He was either a madman or a total genius. Perhaps both.
Either way, she was burning with curiosity—even more than before. Whatever he was up to involvedhergrimoire, the one she’d struggled in vain for years to make sense of. But now she knew for certain thatThe Book of Gamigincontained important information, and Murmur knew what it was.
Maybe it held answers about her mysterious abilities. Maybe she could finally figure out whether her father actually wrote it or had just acquired it somehow, and why. Or whether her mother had known what it meant, and if so, why she hadn’t told Suyin.
Whatever it was, Murmur knew about it. But how to get him to open up? He was tight-lipped and disinclined to talking, unless it involved threatening her.
At that moment, he mumbled something incoherent, swept another crumpled page off the table, and then began flipping through the pages of another grimoire on the desk, still muttering grumpily.
If she’d met him under any other circumstance, even if he was in human form, she would have steered clear. Everything about him, from his haughty expressions to his unpredictable reactions, was one big red flag.
And not “red flag” as in Iris’s shitty, toxic ex-boyfriends. “Red flag” as in potential serial killer with a murder room in his basement.
Which, technically, was completely true. She’d seen his dungeon.
Still, after watching him for a while, she had to admire his concentration. He continued reading and writing andmuttering without looking up once. It was like he’d forgotten the world existed.
Maybe she ought to give it a try. She glanced at the grimoire in her lap and forced herself to focus once again. Maybe it was Murmur’s intense concentration permeating the library, but before long, she got lost in her own studies again.
She’d always been resistant to studying Sheolic magic, but that was before she’d found this library. And been kidnapped by a demon. Every grimoire here was full of black magic, but she was starting to realize that she didn’t care what it took—learning to protect herself was worth any risk.
Hours later, she looked up again, blinking when she remembered where she was. Realizing her legs were numb, she straightened them, wincing at the stretch of muscles that weren’t used to sitting cross-legged for so long. Time to take a break.
She glanced at Murmur. He was still working. His hair fell over his face, and he tapped an idle claw on the desk as he read from a book. He hadn’t moved once the entire time. She couldn’t help but admire that kind of work ethic.
Making as little sound as possible, she lifted the grimoire off her lap and rose to her feet, her stiff legs protesting. Carefully and quietly, she returned every book she’d borrowed to its rightful place. She was dying to take one down to her room to keep reading without His Royal Craziness lurking around, but she didn’t want to push her luck.
She was quiet enough that Murmur didn’t appear to notice her leaving, and she closed the library door softly behind her, the latch making only the smallest click. Alone in the hallway, she let out a breath.
She’d been in his presence for a good four or five hours. He hadn’t threatened her or done anything, but she’d been on edge the entire time anyway. Just being near him was draining, and she was ready for a nap.
Climbing down the steps, she headed straight to her room, only to stop short when she saw what was waiting for her on the bed.
Someone had left a pile of carefully folded clothing, all of it black. Beside it there was another flat of plastic water bottles—she normally hated bottled water and disposable plastic, but she doubted it was easy to find potable water in Hell—and more food. It was hardly a fresh-cooked meal, but she wasn’t complaining.
In fact, a smile stretched across her face as she went through the clothes. There were two pairs of black leggings, a pair of sweatpants, two black tank tops, a T-shirt, a hoodie, and several pairs of underwear.
It looked like she was going to goth boot camp. She loved it.
Murmur had actually listened to her and sent his little minions on another Earth mission. And she couldn’t help but wonder if the clothing was black for a reason. He’d been stalking her, after all. He knew how she dressed.
She thought of him sitting up there alone in his library, talking to himself while he worked, and though it probably made her stupid, her hatred of him lessened a little. A very little.
She’d never thought of herself as a forgiving person. The opposite, in fact. She was often too quick to cut people out of her life. One wrong move and they were gone, all ties severed, no second chances.
She’d never been broken up with in her life. All her ex-partners had been somewhat cruelly dumped the second she sensed clinginess from them or they wronged her in the slightest way. And sometimes she couldn’t even use that as an excuse. In New York, she’d dated a girl for almost a year only to break up with her because she’d suggested they move in together.
So why was she standing here with the warm fuzzies because a demon had procured her some clothing and food? He’d only done it because he’d taken her to Hell against her will, where she had nothing to wear or eat.
