The black ripples and slides away to another part of the room, but some of it is left on my fingers. I rub it between my fingers and it smears like ink as it mixes with my blood.
“I’monthe wall,” his disembodied voice says from across the room.
“Did you say somethin’, ma’am?” Aaron yells from the other room.
“Just talking to myself out loud! Sorry!” I call back, my heart racing.
I can’t let them see Bastian, or this glowing book…
I walk closer to the ink splotch and whisper, “What do you mean it wants my blood?”
“It’s my book of spells and it only opens for witch blood,” he says, his wide eyes focused on the tome in my hands.
He’s never been this cooperative before. He’s also never wanted me to touch his books before. This feels like a trap.
“If it’s your book, why can only witch blood open it?” I ask.
His eyes narrow and the inky black pupils turn snakelike. “Let down your cynical guard for one moment so you may discover more about your nature.”
I clench my teeth. “That wasn’t an answer.”
“Fine. Remain willfully ignorant.”
The edges of the shadowy ink blob ripple and then it disappears, taking the eyes last.
I growl and stomp my foot indignantly.
I want to know what’s in this book…but I also don’t trust that stupid lizard. I take the cord and wrap it around the book twice, then secure it on the knob, careful to avoid pricking myself again.
The opal shimmer dies down, then fades away, leaving the book looking plain. I tuck it against my chest and reach into the top drawer one more time, feeling around for anything extra.
My fingers move from the metal texture to paper. I hop and pinch, getting the page between my bloody index finger and my thumb. It’s just a ripped piece of ruled notebook paper with a few words and a signature.
Knowledge is power!
~C. Monty
“Wasn’t he the auction owner?”
I look at the spell book in my other hand and scowl.
Did he know there was a dragon here?How did he get ahold of his spell book? Did he hide it from him? Did he enchant it to only accept witch blood?
So many questions and only one person with answers.
Stupid dragon.
I take the spell book upstairs and set it on the counter beside the wood burning stove. Bastian isn’t in his ring of books, so I assume he’s still inking around somewhere.
I take a few minutes to have a very sub-par breakfast of apple and protein bar—I need to figure this food thing out soon—and then get to work, moving the smaller pieces of damaged furniture down to the shop.
Aaron and Robbie are making quick work of everything, and within two hours, the shop floor is clear of most debris. I’ll need to come in with a broom a few times, but otherwise, it’s looking good. A few layers of polish and some nice, artsy rugs later, I’ll have the perfect base to build a bookstore on.
The guys grab the last few things and then head out. Aaron bids me a quick farewell, but Robbie lingers, leaning his muscled bicep against the doorframe. He smiles broadly, and even covered in dirt and sweat, he’s handsome.
“Want an after pic?” he asks, flexing and giving me a pouty look that screams “underwear model.”
I chuckle. “No, I don’t want the girls to get any strange ideas about what I’m doing up here.”
