Page 84 of Corrupt Shadows

He doesn’t respond, and I know what that means. I’ll fucking kill them when I get out of here.

“I’m going to find a way out of here, Gomey.”

His beady eyes widen, and a gush of love pushes through our familiar bond.

“I love you too.”

He sighs, and I grip the edge of the fireplace. “I need you to do something for me,” I say, lowering my voice to a whisper. I look around the room, listening for footsteps, but there’s only silence. “I need Rosa’s help.” I glance around the Human Realm of the manor. “Does the Order know I’m here?”

He sits still and I nod. At least they have no clue where Lorcan’s manor is.

“They’re in Darkwood.”

He flaps twice.

“Bring Rosa here, only when it’s safe. Don’t let Lorcan see her, so keep her out on the grounds and away from mirrors, then come and find me in the one,” I whisper. “Okay?” I press my hand to the glass one more time. “When I get out of here, I’m getting you all the fruit you can eat.”

He squeaks and my chest aches. Only a thin piece of glass separates us, yet it feels like miles. I realize that’s how Lorcan must have felt for the entire time he’s been trapped here.

Trapped by my family.

I gulp as I watch Gomez fly away, back to Darkwood to get Rosa. It could be days or even weeks until she comes, depending on when it’s safe to bring her here. The Order knew who she was, so they’ll likely have eyes on her.

“Feeling better?”

Lorcan’s deep voice jolts me. I place my hand to my chest, feeling the racing thumps from my heart. “Gomez,” I say with a smile. “Yes. Thank you.”

***

The library is a labyrinth of demonic darkness and witchcraft. Ancient tomes spill from tall shelves reaching up to the arched ceiling painted in blacks and swirling purples, depicting scenes from the dark underbelly of the Human Realm. I climb two steps on a sliding ladder, white-knuckling the mahogany as I drift along the shelves until I spot the word Fallenmoore engraved on the black wood shelves housing various grimoires, spell books, and journals.

I find the grimoire in the same place I left it and slowly slide it from the shelf. The grandfather clock at the back of the library dongs twelve times, for midnight. I place the book on my lap after sitting on the long plum velvet sofa in front of the fireplace, then breathe in the parchment scent permeating the grand library.

Lorcan’s hatred toward me is understandable, in a fucked-up way. While I may not have done a thing to him, my ancestors did. I peruse the pages, flipping the old parchment carefully. Diagrams, spells, and handwritten journal entries cover the book. It’s almost impossible to find anything, as Evangeline’s writings become more erratic with each page, her insanity growing as words become sketches of horrifying, demonic creatures with claws and tails. Sigils cover the next four pages, with Lorcan and a question mark after each one.

His true name. His true name. His true name.

Her obsession with him drives every spell, dark magic leaking all over the grimoire in ink. I stop when I see another name I recognize.

Ezra is helping me. He’s beautiful, an angel amongst his demon brothers. He is forbidden to speak any of his brothers’ true names, a blood oath preventing each of them from betraying the others in such a way. Instead, he will mark Lorcan with his name. Tomorrow, I will know the truth.

I gasp, almost dropping the book. It slides down my legs, but I catch it. His true name is inked or branded on him.

The next ten pages have been torn out. I graze my fingertip down the remnants of the parchment in the center of the book. Lorcan didn’t want me seeing whatever was next. That, or my family ripped the pages out.

But why would Lorcan have them here?

“Find anything?” Lorcan’s voice sounds behind me, and I jump. I quickly close the book and shove it back onto the table.

“Nothing but the ramblings of an insane woman,” I say with a forced, small smile. “What about you? I’m sure you’ve looked through these a hundred times.”

He shoves his hands in his pocket. “Some things can only be found by a descendant of the coven.” He glances at the clock. “Continue tomorrow. You should rest. You look terrible.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks a bunch.”

“If you continue to use your magic, you’d feel better,” he says.

I exhale shakily, refusing to meet his stare. Using magic only pushed my family deeper into insanity. While I may have let it all out the other day, I must be careful not to let it push me over the edge. “I could sleep.”

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