Page 104 of Shattered Jewel

Clover jerks back, shocked by my viciousness and throwing her hands up in defense as the amulet lands in her lap.

“How do you explain this?” I ask.

To late, I realize any squeak of distress from Clover would’ve brought the door down, the Vultures crashing in to defend her while they take my head a as a trophy.

Then again, my Court members surround me in the same way. Wilder is nearby, lingering near the door just as Rossi and Rio likely are, but he’s not the only one I can call on. Kaspian would’ve discovered a way to sneak in undetected by now, Cav will be circling the perimeter, and Axe will be positioned somewhere near a window to keep an eye on me, any of them able to intercept if needed.

I’m not so naive as to think they would’ve stayed back. Injured beasts become even more feral when they bleed.

Thankfully, none of my thoughts are put to the test. Clover’s eyes flick from me to the amulet, widening as she takes in the sight of the twinkling ruby nested in the grotesque metal.

“This is half of the ruby Heart,” I say, pointing at it for further effect. “Do you see the jagged edges, how they’re sharp and fresh? Maverick broke it in an attempt to save me.” The pain of my brother’s name burns, but I swallow it down. “He said the other piece is still in Sarah’s vault. He was in the midst of compiling all the documents he found to use against the Sovereigns and stop them before—before he died.”

A silence stretches between us, broken only by the crackling fire in the hearth. The glow from the fire casts dancing light on Clover’s face, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and furrowed brow. The ruby gleams.

Her fingers hover over the necklace, but she doesn’t touch it. She whispers, “This changes things.”

My heart stutters at her words. Maybe I’ve cracked through her skepticism.

I forge on. “My brother wanted to keep the pieces forever separate so the Sovereigns could never have it whole. Or, maybe just to buy himself time to collect every piece of evidence he could before they made their ultimate move. The Sovereigns’ entire plan of summoning this supposed Exalted Regent of theirs depends on the ruby being whole.”

I shake my head in complete disbelief that I have to stop three grown men from initiating a murderous seance. “Setting aside the fact they think they can summon a fucking demon, I don’t think Maverick had the right idea. Frankly, I don’t care if the Sovereigns get the whole Heart. There’s no demon to summon—they don’t exist. What I do care about, what terrifies me, is the Sovereigns’ utter dedication to mutilating their members and sacrificing girls in fucked-up rituals for this overlord of theirs.”

And Maverick’s fear that if they ever possessed the entire ruby, they would go after me.

She withdraws her hand, curling it into a fist as she looks up at me, her eyes obscured by the play of dark and light on her face.

Clover stands abruptly, the ruby tumbling from her lap onto the plush carpet. The firelight catches the jewel’s facets, scattering crimson glints across the room.

Clover begins to pace. “This is bad. This is really bad. What did you say the name of this demon was? Exalted Regent?”

I stare at her sidelong and ask slowly, “Does it matter? There’s no demon.”

“If what you say is true, then we need to act fast,” Clover says, ignoring my skepticism. “The dark arts should never, can never, be messed with.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep, quenching breath, recalling the tarot cards on her shelf, the crystals, the Wiccan almanacs piled in her shelves.

She believes in this stuff.

Clover strides to her desk, throwing her hair up into a messy bun as she does so and revealing a small tattoo at the base of her neck—a vulture in flight. She pulls open a desk drawer and slips on white cotton gloves. I push to my feet, not bothering to hide my curiosity as I join her.

Clover carefully flips open a large ornate book, the motion carrying the most disgusting smell into my nostrils. I turn around and retch, then gulp some deep breaths before I turn back around and meet Clover’s jaded, but amused smile.

“To this day, I have no idea where that smell comes from or why it’s so potent after centuries,” she says.

“Wait.” The hand I was using to massage my throat freezes. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Sarah’s grimoire,” Clover supplies without looking up. “It was given to me a few months ago. To say it changed my life is an understatement. It’s written by both Sarah and Li—her nameless daughter. If you can stomach it, take a look.”

Clover twists the book to face me. After a few choked breaths, I get my gag reflex under control and read the page Clover has open.

Intricate drawings, the ink faded but the designs made timeless, showcase jewelry of all shapes and sizes, recorded with such precision that I forget about the smell emanating from the page. “Are those…?”

“Jewelry Sarah was allegedly paid in? Yes. Her daughter inventoried every piece. We assumed the pieces were theoretical, or codes for the transfer of something entirely different than actual priceless gemstones.” Clover slides her attention to where the amulet rests on the floor. With her features crystallizing into diamond-hard resolve, she turns back to the grimoire and flips the pages until she finds what she’s looking for, her white-gloved finger landing on?—

“The Heart.” I gasp. “And it’s in full.”

Behind that page is a small gap of space before the thick, yellowed paper continues. Angling my vision, I notice pieces of pulp clinging to the glue on the spine—pages ripped from this historical book.

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