“My father has the book, and he lives by it!” Lucian snaps back, a fire in his eyes, a furious, hurt gleam. “He’s had it for decades, and it guides his every fucking move. He’s fucking obsessed with it.”
The keeper begins pacing back and forth behind me, and as he does, his outward appearance changes once again. Even though he keeps his black scales, any hint of wings vanishes and a black cape forms around his shoulders, floating down to the floor. Its hem scrapes across thetatamimatting with every step he takes, reminding me of the swishing of his cloak within his realm the first time I saw him.
“TheBook of Dark Magiconly serves itself,” he says. “If your father’s following it, and has been for years, then he’s well and truly set on a path of destruction.”
Around me, the panthers are hissing and beside Lucian, Anarchy is nodding rapidly.
“We heard about each of the books,” she says. “They were created when the keepers were created. They were intended to record history as it happened, to show the past to all who sought wisdom so that the same mistakes wouldn’t be repeated.”
The keeper stops pacing and holds up the hand on which he wears his crown-shaped ring. “TheBook of Dark Magicis not like the others. I saw this in the dying memories of those who held it in their hands and were betrayed by it.”
Again, Anarchy nods, her cheek brushing Lucian’s. “That book goes beyond the nature of dark magic,” she says. “It’s insidious. Bloodthirsty. Even among dark creatures, it’s considered a dangerous, unreliable object.”
Lucian gives a harsh laugh. “That’s why Dad needed me to read it at the same time as him. He told me thatTheBook of Dark Magiccan show different things to different people, even if they’re looking at the same page. He made me describe to him what I saw, as I saw it. When he finally closed the book, he told me that I’d confirmed what the book had shown him, too.”
I try to calm my racing heart. “Can you tell me what it was?”
Lucian’s golden eyes are haunted and full of shadows. “First, I saw bodies,” he says. “More than even a dark creature wants to see. They were piled in basements, scattered along hidden passages, choking the sewers. All manner of supernaturals—shifters, witches, mages, vampires, and others—but all were of dark magic. I could tell by their dying auras.
“Their bodies filled every shadow, every place that dark creatures like to hide: dens, and caverns, and concealed rooms. The blood splatter was so bright… Claw marks were scratched across the walls of every place where they lay.”
His focus is suddenly on my hands and I fight the need to tuck them away from sight.
“Claw marks were gouged deep into concrete and through thick metal,” he says. “Surfaces that other creatures’ claws can’t cut, but yours can?—”
He suddenly winces again, his fingers rising to his temples. Anarchy leans in, her teeth bared, but Lucian nudges his face to hers before she can bite him. “I’m okay. For now.”
She gives him a little nod but doesn’t retreat far, her head resting on his shoulder.
“The claw marks…” I swallow and try to gather my thoughts. “Surely, there must be other creatures with powerful claws.” My suggestion sounds hollow in my own ears, but I rally. “How could you be sure they were mine?”
“Because I saw you,” Lucian says. “Just as you are. Right down to the color of your hair.” He shakes his head at my locks. “Black with silver streaks at the front and tipped with blonde. You were standing at the end of a trail of bodies, cutting down yet another being. Don’t ask me who they were. All I saw was blood.”
My chest is constricting. My heart is thumping.
“You were so quiet about it,” Lucian continues. “Intent on your task. The screaming was theirs. And then it stopped.”
I try to breathe, clinging to what the keeper said—that the book only serves itself—along with the reason why I started this conversation in the first place.
My source of hope.
“When you saw my wings for the first time, you said they changed everything.” My throat squeezes as I ask, “Why?”
A little of the darkness leaves Lucian’s expression. “Because when it all went quiet, when you stepped over that final body, there was another shadow. A new being. I couldn’t see their face. I don’t know who they were. The image was blurred and fuzzy and all I know is that they had wings. Maybe red ones, but I can’t be sure.”
He pauses, slowly blowing out a breath, his face becoming pale again.
I know I can’t expect him to keep remembering. I know there will be a limit to what he can tell me and we might be nearing it.
But Anarchy darts in and nibbles his earlobe, bringing a sigh of relief to his lips.
“Can you go on?” she asks softly.
He nods and raises his eyes to mine. They’re glazed again, but also bloodshot now, and I’m certain we’ll only have moments before he needs to stop.
“You fought this supernatural,” Lucian says, his voice slurring. “And unlike every other creature before it, it defeated you.”
My heart jumps. It feels like everything within the room stops. An intense silence falling. “It kills me?”
