“You can bring us.” Hasan’s voice resonates inside of me. “We took an oath to fight in God’s name.”
In my peripheral vision I see Gilbert roll his eyes. “I’m up for ripping heads off. What about you, brother?”
Thomas grins. “I never say no to a fight.”
“You guys know you can’t just walk in there with me, right?” I ask. “You have wings.” I let out a breath and roll my neck, trying to stretch out a knot in my shoulder. “It’s pretty isolated out here. But in town…it’ll be culture shock.” I unfold my legs and yawn. It’s a little after ten and I’m ready for bed.
“Magic,” Jacques starts. “It takes a lot out of you.”
I’m still not convinced I actually possess magical powers, but it would explain the total depletion of energy I’ve been feeling.
“You should rest.”
“Probably. I have to work in the morning again too.”
“We’ll guard the house.” He eyes the couch. “Are you sleeping here again?”
“Yeah. It’s too cold for me upstairs.” I get up, muscles aching from my scuffles with the vampires yesterday. “Do you want me to show you how things work around here? Like the water and lights? I brought more food, too, in case you’re hungry later.”
“Sure.” Jacques follows me into the kitchen. I turn on the water, showing him which way to turn the faucet to get hot or cold. The bathroom is next, and his fascination with indoor plumbing makes me realize how much I took it for granted.
We walk past the library, and Jacques slows, looking inside. “I used to read every night.” I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or himself.
“You can read tonight,” I gently offer, and step in, going to the lamp near the window. I pull the chain and the bulb flickers on. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but can you read English?”
“Yes, and I think you were right about absorbing information we heard over the years. Though back when I was a man, I could read and write in several languages.”
If what I know from the few historical movies is correct, highly educated men came from rich families…and didn’t turn to the priesthood.
“Why did you become a Templar priest?” I ask, running the risk of being too frank.
“I believed in the message of the church.”
“Believed?”
He lowers his gaze. “I don’t anymore.”
“Because of the curse?”
“No,” he says, and turns away. “I stopped believing before that.”
Away from the fire, I’m cold again. Jacques steps to the bookshelf, scanning the volumes in front of him. He pulls one down and runs his finger over the title.
“Emma,”he reads, and the word sends a chill down my spine. Out of all the books he chooses that particular one. “Have you read it? It’s a strange title.”
“I have. More than once.” I curl my fingers in, pressing my nails into my palms. “Jane Austen is a great author. She’s pretty well-known now.”
Jacques’s lips move into a smile, almost mirroring the one from my dream. “I’ll start with this one then. Maybe I’ll learn something of value.”
I smile back, kicking around the thought of leaving a copy ofFifty Shades of Greylying around for him to read next.
“There’s another light by the fireplace.”
Jacques tucks the book under his arm. “I can see in the dark.”
“Really?”
“Really. Part of the curse.”
