Page 122 of Deck of Scarlets

But it was the last line that shook me to my core.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Iran out of the closet with the box and letter clutched tightly against my torso. My mother stood just under the kitchen threshold as I rounded the corner, heading straight for the front door, when she abruptly stepped in front of my path, blocking the exit.

“Remi, just think about what you’re doing,” she whispered. A hint of hurt and panic laced her words, but nothing could stop me, not even her desperate pleas when all she’d done was lie to me for years.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore,” I snapped. I gripped my grandmother’s belongings like a shield, protecting me from my mother.

“I have every right to want to protect my daughter!”

“By lying to me? How is that any safer? For fuck's sake, Mom, I went in blind! I could’ve been killed.”

She gripped my shoulder. “Don’t you dare walk out that door. I refuse to have my daughter a part of some cult!”

The irony of her words was not lost on me, but it fueled more coal to my already blazing fire. “Sucks knowing you weren’t chosen. It eats you alive, doesn't it? That your own daughter gets to live the life you always wanted.”

Her face twisted in pure rage. “I bet your grandmother loved filling your head with that bullshit. She was such a spiteful woman.”

“Keep her name out of your fucking mouth.” I shouldered past her, pressing Grams’ stuff tightly to my chest, my mother completely unaware of the small whiskey bottle I had stolen from my dad's stash hidden within.

I would rather chew on rusty nails than ever step foot in that fucking house again.

Taking a hefty swig of whiskey to calm my nerves and then stashing it between a few books on one of the first shelves in the small library, I rushed toward Father Benedict, who stood over a stack of thick, leatherbound books at a nearby table. He twirled white rosary beads in his paper-thin hands, a worry line forming on his forehead as his eyes followed the text. After everything that had happened, I was surprised to find him alone and not surrounded by the Aces and their overbearing needs. For once, I got to talk to Father without an audience present.

“Father,” I breathed, my hands shaking from escaping my mother’s clutches.

He looked up with a somber expression, as if life was sucked from him, but when he saw the worry across my face, he stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Remi, what’s wrong?”

With a shaky hand, I offered Grams’ note to him. “I think you need to read this.”

Father Benedict looked from me to the note, unsure whether to take it. I encouraged him with a simple nod to let him know he had permission to. He pocketed the rosary beads and took the letter, unfolding the creased spots.

I watched his expression change from confusion to shock, then—

“Elizabeth,” he whispered more to himself.

“What?” Father placed a finger to his lips to keep quiet and then had me follow him through the line of shelves until we’d retreated safely inside his little office space in the back of the library. I shut the door behind me as he rummaged through his desk drawer, searching for something until he pulled out a long, gold pendant with a delicate cross for a charm. He caressed the cross with his pointer finger, then kissed it and whispered a prayer before meeting my eyes.

“Your grandmother was one special Scarlet. But she was very selective on who she trusted in the Order. It wasn’t until you gave me her note that I remembered she’d entrusted me with this necklace to give to you,” he stated. Father stepped around his desk and took my hand to place the delicate chain in my palm.

It was simple yet the prettiest piece of jewelry I’d ever owned, and she wanted me to have it. A silver cross hung from the chain, shining under the lights. Anything left in Grams’ old room after her death had been stored in one of my parents’ many storage units or thrown away. My mother claimed there wasn’t much to sift through because Grams wasn’t materialistic, but I’d always hoped something would turn up that I could keep. Little did I know that Father Benedict held something so valuable this entire time.

I set the box of the rest of her belongings down on the desk and clasped the necklace securely around my neck, the chain cold against my already too-hot skin.

At that moment, for the first time, I finally felt like I belonged. “I don’t think you realize how much this means to me.”

A smile spread across Father Benedict’s face. “I’m glad it’s finally in your possession.”

Then his smile faded into a severe frown, more wrinkles creasing his forehead. “Remi, your grandmother did something against the whole Order. I believe she did it intentionally.” He gestured to me to take a seat.

I obliged and found myself unsure of what was going to happen next. “What did she do?”

He finally sat in his desk chair and took a long breath. “Did she tell you anything about the Accane Blade before her passing?”

“Father Benedict, my grandmother kept everything under wraps. When I received the invitation, I had no idea this world existed,” I admitted, thinking of my mother, who knew and lied blatantly to my face.

He rubbed his chin and nodded, as I had told him this before. “The Accane Blade is a powerful weapon against a specific type of demonic presence. It is the only one in existence, and it has never been found since the mid-1800s. Some claim it was lost in battle, others believe it was stolen and buried somewhere deep, but it can never be truly destroyed.”

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