I flipped through the stack on the counter, annoyed with the same recycled crap I’d skimmed last week. One had tabs marking “Light Manifestation” and “Shielding Basics.” The latter might be useful.
“I was hoping for something more specific to my variance,” I grumbled, leaning into Angel’s space as he pulled peppers from the air fryer. He rubbed my back with his free hand, and I sank into his touch. “Unless you think I can defeat evil with glowsticks and salt circles.”
Ivan stood, cradling Nox like a football as he made his way over. “Dinner smells really good.” He paused beside the stack of books. “What about this one?Fleshcraft: An Artisan’s Guide. Sounds like a smutty novel.”
My mouth dropped open and I began to protest as I followed his gaze to the tome in question. The book on top of the stack on the counter definitely hadn’t been there thirty seconds ago. Bound in black leather, so smooth it shone with an iridescent rainbow where the kitchen light hit it.
Ivan picked it up. “Looks like necromancer stuff.”
I grabbed it from him, and with the touch, ice shot up my arm. “Please tell me this is some explicit sex guide for necromancers.”
Angel snorted. “As if you need help with that.”
“It’s not bound in something gross like human skin, right?”
“Smells like cow,” Ivan said, dropping the book back on the stack. “I really hope it’s not a sex guide. Gross. Why are old people so gross?”
“Excuse me, I’m not old,” I told my little brother.
Angel snatched up the book, flipping pages with a frown. “What do you see?” He held up the book, open to a set of pages.The Preservation of Mortal Vessels, a flesh-adhesion guide. A diagram of a body stretched between the two pages, indicating stitches, and lines with scribbled handwriting adding more personalized notes.
“Instructions on keeping a body fresh,” I said as I took in the long list of details and remarks left by the last user. “For reuse.”
Angel turned it to Ivan. “And what do you see?”
I flinched, not wanting Ivan to see something like that, but he shrugged. “Nothing. The pages are blank.”
“Are you messing with me?” I demanded as I grabbed the book back and flipped through it. Every page brimmed with spells about raising bodies, settling spirits, stitching souls back into rotting meat. My magic buzzed beneath my skin, resonating with the text.
I snapped the book shut and shoved it at Angel, heart racing. “I don’t want this.”
“But wouldn’t it be better to know how to use your power? So, it doesn’t use you?” Ivan asked. “I hated when I couldn’t control my cat. The shift would happen and I’d be afraid of being stuck in between and not know how to change back. And Mom and Dad refused to help.”
I tugged Ivan into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
“But that’s my point. This stuff is scary because it’s unfamiliar. Wouldn’t it be better to understand?”
“No. I don’t know.” I couldn’t look at Angel, fearing I’d see the horror on his face. He hated practitioners and SVs, and was mated to me. Would he see me as a monster, too?
Strong hands clasped my shoulders, and Ivan turned me to face Angel. The book sat on the counter, but Angel wrapped me up in a nearly suffocating hug. I fought back tears and nausea at the same time.
“Ivan’s not wrong,” Angel said. “It’s probably better to know than stick your head in the dirt.” He brushed a kiss across my cheek. “Let’s eat first, and maybe rest. Then we’ll worry about it. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, but even from three feet away I could hear the book whispering. And the worst part? Some secret part of me wanted to know.
5
The book satuntouched on the counter while we ate dinner. My gaze flicked over it often, magic stirring, my focus drawn back to it with both curiosity and fear. Nox curled himself around Ivan’s shoulders while he ate, and Peanut Butter took his place in my lap. Both cats purred like tiny engines, sleepy and happy all at once.
I picked at the food, hungry, but anxiety making me semi-nauseous. Was I ready to embrace a gift I’d never really wanted?
Angel set a slice of cake down in front of me. “Eat.”
I stared at him.
“You need the sugar.”
I cut off a bite and swallowed it, surprised that it settled the churning of my stomach, and after devouring half the slice, some of the raging anxiety began to fade. Maybe the fear coincided with low blood sugar, but the apartment buzzed with energy, as if the arrival of the book added something biting and metallic to the space. Heavy. Did the other two sense it? They said nothing.
