Page 18 of Clarity

Five

Sexy ass vampire.

Hm.

It was concerning really, how just a little more information—such as my mother’s life being at stake—made the truth of the description Roseline had given for Parris so much easier to admit.

To myself.

Before cracking open that grimoire, sure, I’d certainly admired the Black brothers for their looks. The obligation the pages held though, written by some seer in my family’s distant past, had flipped some switch in my brain, making me reject the idea that there was some benefit in connection to him.

My body, however, had not gotten that memo.

But now, knowing that attaching myself to him would put the seal on some ancient promise of restoration?

Yeah, sexy ass vampire was correct.

An understatement, even.

Parris was draped in the doorway, looking specifically unamused as I moved closer. I started to ask why he hadn’t simply come inside. The shop itself wasn’t a private residence, so he didn’t need to be invited like he would to get upstairs.

Then I saw the rune work around the door.

A trap.

“You did that?” I asked Roseline, turning to find her with her arms crossed, wearing a smirk as she nodded.

“Yep. Came to me in a dream last night, and I had no ideawhyI might want to trap a vampire, but… here we are.”

I nodded, moving to where Parris was still stuck there in the doorway. Examining the spell piece by piece, I deciphered each part—keeping him in place, forcing his silence, suppressing his power.

It was beautiful.

“Should I let him out?” Roseline asked. “He might be pissed.”

Parris hiked an eyebrow at her, and I laughed. “Mightis wild. Hedefinitelyis. But that’s okay.” I nodded. “You can let him out.”

From beside me, Roseline reached out, dragging a finger through the runes to create a smudge that broke the spell.

Immediately, Parris stepped in, chest heaving, fangs extended.

“What thefuckwas that about?!” he asked. “Why the hell is that even something you can do?” He pointed that question at Roseline, but before even giving her a chance to answer, he’d already looked back at me. “Don’t you ever fucking think about it.”

I smiled. “I don’t know… I can definitely think of a few applications of a spell like that where you’d havequitea good time.”

His eyes narrowed at me, processing what I’d said for a moment before he grabbed me at the wrist. “We need to have a conversation.”

Before I could object, he'd already pulled us out of the shop in such a whirlwind of speed, I lost my bearings. Luckily, I knew my city well enough to be quite familiar with my surroundings,anysurroundings. Once we’d finally stopped, I looked around with a smirk before I met his eyes.

"Is this supposed to scare me?" I asked, gesturing at the labyrinth of above-ground tombs that comprised St. Louis Cemetery No.1—a necessity due to the geography and terrain.

Parris returned my smirk. "You ain’t the only with roots around here, witch," he said in a teasing tone as he let go of my wrist. "I have people interred here as well. I never found occasion to visit, but since this was your chosen fleeing ground, I figured I may as well pay my respects."

He gestured to the tomb behind us—ornate white marble free of any type of ugly overgrowth or water stains from flooding. There was a symbol carved into the entryway, a simple stylized wolf with the lettersB.L.A.C.K.chiseled in block lettering.

“Fair enough.” I shrugged. “But, what would you like me to do with this information?"

He shook his head. "Damn. I'm trying to extend an olive branch here," he said. "Offer you something about me. Usually the way it goes is that you would, in turn, offer something about yourself."

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