Page 33 of Ghoul Kisses

“You mean the Zenith book. He wants to kill all the vampires, starting with the Hudson covens.”

She fiddles with the necklace around her neck.

“Why did the vampires enslave ghouls?

“Because we stopped preying on humans. They needed blood, and we needed raw meat. So we did business with them. We sold them blood in exchange for raw meat. Vampires and ghouls were outnumbering the humans, so Eric’s father ordered all ghouls to prey on animal meat.” She pauses for a minute and I can see the memories flashing through her mind. “We went to war with the vamps because they were enslaving ghouls for their blood. We lost the war and decided to live among humans.” I don’t know what to say about that. I can’t imagine all the bloodshed that came from being at war. Or how they were forced to live among us. It sounds like a hideous era to live in.

‘What are the vampires doing? Are they living among humans, too?”

“Some are, but most decided to live among their coven. There are six covens total.”

“Who are the vampires enslaving now?” She looks at me with apologetic eyes.

“Humans,” she says, returning her eyes to the screen.

I hit the light switch in the library on my way in. I want to learn more about the Zenith book. After all, I have the key. Where should I start first? It is so big in here, I don’t know where to begin. I stroll to the magic section. There are books on different types of magic and how to use it. I grab the book titled Magic Book Encyclopedia and sit at the glass table. Dust covers the book, so I take my right hand and wipe it away. The book is made out of leather, and some of the pages are wrinkled. I search the table of contents and turn to page 1,023. The word Zenith is at the top of the page in bold letters. I begin to read.

The Zenith book is the most powerful spell book in existence. If a witch obtains it, he or she will be able to change time, kill people, bring back the dead, and rewrite the past.The Zenith book is the first magic book to be written. It was created in 304 B.C. The book was written by three powerful witches, Cecil, Ruth, Cornelius.

There are three pictures of the witches at the bottom of the page. Cornelius has bright red hair, green eyes, and pale skin. Cecil has short black hair cut into a pixie style, dark brown eyes, and dark skin. When I see Ruth’s picture, I am startled. The woman looks exactly like my mother; the same black curly hair, hazel eyes, and tanned skin. I trace my index finger over her name. Ruth was born July 5, 1889. And, her death date is unknown. I continue to study the picture. There is no way in hell that could be my mother. Could it? A few months ago, I didn’t know ghouls, vampires, and witches existed. I was having a normal life before Eric rescued me from Pete. And speaking of Pete, how did he know I had the key? The only person who knows I have it—is Nessa. My mind flashes back to the night I was attacked. He asked me about it, and I thought he was talking about my house key. Was my mom into magic and she knew about the key? I snort a humorless laugh. That is not possible. She was always on business trips with Tom—the billionaire investor who owns most of the apartments and clubs in New York City.

I close the book, tuck it under my left arm, and head to my room. I debate whether or not to call Tom. I haven’t spoken to him since my mom’s funeral. He could tell me why my mom had the key and how she received it.

But I don’t want to open that door because it will open up old wounds. Plus, I never really had a relationship with Tom. I have two or three memories of him. I eye the phone sitting on my nightstand. Slowly, I pick it up and punch in the number that I still know from memory. I pace the floor nervously. The phone rings. On the third ring, a woman picks up.

“Hello.”

“Can I speak to Tom. Tom Luther?” My mom died a year ago, and he already replaced her. Asshole.

“Who is this?” she asks.

“Sarah… Clemons.”

“Hold on, please.”

Five seconds later, Tom picks up the phone.

“Hey, my stepchild.” I hate it when he calls me that. His voice is still the same; cold and unemotional. He knows everything about my mom. This is the man who stole my mom from me and kept her from being a parent. All the pain comes back to me. The feelings of abandonment and wanting assurance that my mom cared for me. The hurt I felt when she missed my birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, and other holidays that a child would want their parent there for. The empty promises: saying she would be home but never showing up.

“Sarah, are you there?” Tom interrupts my train of thoughts.

I still don’t respond. I just listen as he calls my name.

“Are you hurt? I know you are still on the phone; I can hear you breathing.” I picture him in his black business suit, his auburn hair cut low to the scalp, and his empty black eyes.

I hit the end button on my phone. I can’t ask Tom why my mom had this key, because if I do, I might not like the answer. Some doors are not worth opening.

I spend my day working at the clinic. I put a brace on a ghoul’s right leg, and help deliver a baby. I try to keep myself busy to avoid thinking about Eric. He hasn’t contacted me since our blowout, and I find myself wanting to send him a message, but my pride won’t let me. After I chart the health assessments in the computer, I walk to my room and check a few e-mails. Vanessa hasn’t sent me a message since the night she met Eric. I send her a quick e-mail.

Nessa

Are you okay?

She is probably busy and will message me when she is ready. I place the headphones over my ears and listen to Drake, trying to drown out my inner thoughts. Hours later, I feel someone shaking me, my eyes flutter open and the light in the room blinds me. Odessa stands over me. I sit up, removing the headphones from my ears.

“What’s wrong?” I ask through a yawn. I’m surprised I fell asleep. She leans against the bedrail.

“You want to go out tonight?” she asks through a smile.

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