Page 38 of Infernal

“So, have you found any interesting family secrets?” I asked, curious about what he was trying to dig up in those books.

“No, no, nothing like that. My father was one of the High Guardians of the Order and recorded most of their happenings in these journals right here. I was hoping to find something about the Ritual.”

My heart warmed upon realizing he meant what he said when he told me he wanted to find a way to save Trace.

“Any luck?” I asked, taking a small step into the room.

“Nothing yet,” he said, his eyebrows still furrowed in frustration. “But there’s a lot more books to cover.” He tipped his chin to the mounds of books and journals piled on the floor beside the desk.

It looked like a good place to start. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not. Help yourself.” He smiled, though barely, and then motioned to the overwhelming pile of books.

I pulled out a chair from against the wall and dragged it over to the desk. Plopping down across from him, I picked up a book from the top of the pile andcracked it open.

Flipping through the pages, I scanned the entries for any passages about the Dark Legion or their possible use of a vessel. While there were plenty of entries about demonic possession and corresponding passages outlining the various rituals of exorcism to cure them, there was nothing about Lucifer.

“Has the Order ever gone up against anything like this?” I asked, wanting to know exactly what our chances were. It was worth trying it their way, giving this a chance, though the more I heard, the more I realized I was going to need to go at this from a different angle.

“The Roderick sisters are certainly not the first to try opening the Hellgates, though they did get the furthest.”

“Thanks to me,” I muttered bitterly.

“This isn’t your fault,” he said, lowering his book again, his eyes fixed on me in a meaningful way. “You didn’t know, Jemma. None of us did.”

“Yeah, but it still doesn’t change the fact that it wasmyblood that opened the seals.”

He relaxed back in his chair and appraised me. “If you had spilled your blood with the intention of opening that Gate, we would be having a different conversation. Intention is everything, Jemma.”

I nodded because I appreciated the sentiment, though I couldn’t allow myself to unload my burden. It belonged on my back until I found a way to atone for my mistakes.

“How have you been holding up?” he asked gently, shifting the conversation.

I looked up and noticed he was staring at my hands. My trembling hands.

“I’m keeping it together.” I shrugged, bringing them down to my lap. “More or less.”

“And my brother? Is everything—?”

“Gabriel, please,” I quickly cut him off, though I wasn’t even sure what he was going to ask me. “Don’t.”

An awkward silence wedged its way between us. I couldn’t bring myself to keep having these conversations with Gabriel about Dominic or the bloodbond. I wasn’t sure what he thought of me, knowing that I was bonded to his brother and that I’d willingly sacrificed myself to him on more than one occasion. I imagined it wasn’t anything good, and I already had enough of that as it was.

His eyes searched mine for a short moment, and then he nodded. “Understood.”

I picked up the journal on my lap and resumed reading, hoping he would take that as his cue to drop this conversation.

And of course, he did. Gabriel was always good like that.

We spent the next hour combing through dozens of journals and poorly translated Old Latin texts and found ourselves nowhere closer to the salvation I desperately sought. The more of nothing we dug up, the more my gut was telling me we were looking in the wrong place altogether. But of course, I wouldn’t bring that up to Gabriel again.

I already knew where he stood on the whole let’s-crack-open-the-Satanic-Bible thing.

“You should try to get some sleep, Jemma. You won’t be any good to him in this state,” said Gabriel, taking pity on me as I rubbed the sleep from my tired eyes.

I knew he was right, and while I certainly wasn’t planning on getting a good night’s rest, I was going to need at least three or four hours to keep my body functional.

I was about to call it a night when I heard two very distinct voices carrying in through the downstairs hall. One very male voice that sounded a lot like Dominic, and another high-pitched female voice that I couldn’t place. Something dark and wretched coiled inside of me as realization smacked me upside the head.

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