The pull tugged again, stronger this time. Not inside me, like the demon power had been, but outside. Somewhere in the compound. Calling to me.
Zandia's words echoed through my mind. Your mother was exactly the same way. Untrained. Chaotic. Brilliant. Eloise. What had she known about my power? What hadn't she told me? The questions burned, bitter and sharp in the back of my throat. I had so little time with her. So many secrets she took to her grave. Why had she spent so many years hiding things from me and punishing me for just existing instead of passing on her legacy?
A soft knock broke through my thoughts. The door opened before I could respond, and Grayson's tall frame filled the doorway. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me sitting up.
"You're awake." Relief colored his voice, softening the edges of his normally controlled tone.
"How long was I out?" I rasped, my throat dry.
Grayson crossed to the nightstand, poured water from a waiting pitcher into a glass, and handed it to me. "Almost eighteen hours. Kearan said your body needed it. The power drain was... significant."
I drank deeply; the cool water soothed my raw throat. "Feels like I got hit by a truck. Several trucks. Moving at highway speeds."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips, though his eyes remained serious. "You scared us. All of us."
Flashes of a memory of Trux's fear-fueled rage flashed through my mind. "Is Trux still here? Still angry?"
"He's here. Not angry anymore." Grayson sat carefully on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectful distance. "Scared. Worried. But the rage burned itself out."
I nodded, fingers tightening around the glass. "The demon... it spoke to me. Before everything went to hell. Inside my head."
Grayson went still, that perfect stillness that reminded me he wasn't entirely human. "What did it say?"
"'Command it,'" I quoted, the words leaving a bad taste in my mouth. "'Show it who is stronger... who is dominant and superior.'"
His face didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. A shadow passed behind them, ancient and knowing. "I know."
Two simple words. Yet they landed with the weight of mountains. I stared at him, waiting for more, for an explanation, for anything that would make those two words make sense.
He just looked back at me, his expression unreadable.
"You know?" I finally prompted when the silence stretched too long. "What does that mean, Grayson? What do you know about what happened to me?"
He stood up smoothly, adjusting his shirt with a practiced motion. "It means we have a lot to talk about. But not right now." His gaze softened slightly. "You need to rest more. Recover your strength."
"I've been asleep for eighteen hours," I protested. "What I need are answers."
"Later." Firm but gentle, his tone brooked no argument. "I promise, Parker. We'll talk about everything. But first—" He hesitated, head tilting slightly as if listening to something I couldn't hear. "First, I think there's something you need to find."
The pull inside me surged in response, as if his words had given it permission to grow stronger. My skin prickled with awareness.
"You feel it too?" I asked, surprised.
A smile touched his lips, enigmatic and knowing. "No. But I can hear your thoughts and the pull you keep feeling." He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Follow it, Parker. Find what's calling you. Then we'll talk."
Before I could respond, he was gone; the door closed softly behind him. Leaving me alone with my questions and the persistent tug pulling me toward... something.
I stood carefully, testing my legs. Shaky but functional. The floor felt cold beneath my bare feet as I padded to the door and peered out into the empty hallway. Silence. The compound remained quiet, most of its occupants likely asleep or away on missions. The pull led me left, drawing me down corridors that seemed different in the dim evening light.
The archive room. That's where it was leading me. I'd only been in there a few times before… a repository for artifacts and texts too valuable to destroy but too dangerous to keep in general circulation. Normally, it required security clearance and a special key card. But as I approached, the door stood slightly ajar, a thin line of warm light spilling into the hallway.
Creepy.
Pretty on par with what my life had become.
I pushed the door open slowly, half expecting to find someone inside. The room was empty. Shelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes and artifacts safely stored in warded containers. A large table dominated the center of the space, its surface clean except for a single item.
The grimoire. Eloise's grimoire. My grimoire. Ro mentioned that it would appear that I would need to find it. I didn't think it would come to me like this.
