Page 40 of Ruthless Ends

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I promise.”

She points a finger at me. “Don’t try to teleport to Auclair. Please.”

I raise my palms. “I’ll get a car.”

She narrows her eyes like she doesn’t believe me, but heads out just the same.

The house falls into silence after I hear the front door close downstairs. Kirby and Monroe must have already headed out. What time is it anyway? How long have I been out?

I fish around in the sheets for my phone, then notice it sitting on the dresser on the other side of the room and plugged in. I smile a little. Reid.

I try to remind myself of all the reasons I shouldn’t let him make me smile anymore, but the arguments sound weak, even to me. My muscles ache as I move, worse than I’d been expecting. Adrienne didn’t need to worry about me trying teleportation. I don’t think I could pull off a simple spell right now if I tried.

When I power on the phone, the screen fills with messages—Daniel, Wes, Kirby, Monroe, Beth. Everyone apologizing for having to rush out for classes and whatnot today, they’ll be back later, they’re so glad I’m okay.

I frown at the screen for a moment, not at all liking the feeling threatening to emerge in my chest, but it’s there nonetheless. Because while everyone is carrying on with their lives, finishing their education, learning magic I’ve never heard of, doing everything I was supposed to do, I’m sitting here, alone, stuck in more of a limbo than even the shadow world had felt.

It’s of my own doing, I suppose. I could’ve pushed harder about going back to the academy. Reid probably would have found a way to make it work.

But do Ireallywant to be here, or do I just hate the idea of all of my friends moving on with their lives without me? That I’m no longer the version of myself who fits alongside them.

* * *

The note sparksbefore it goes up in flames in the fireplace. But after staring at it for an hour, trying to decipher any other meaning or code, I let it go.

My issues with Calla aside, I don’t want anything to happen to her. And that note in the right hands would’ve been a direct map to her.

Auclair is quiet when a car brings me back, and I don’t have the energy to do much more than shuffle to Adrienne’s room, tuck myself into bed, and request some human food get delivered by one of the servants. And in the meantime, I read the book.

Now that the initial shock has subsided, I can’t stop turning the pages. I eye the whiskey I’d left beneath Adrienne’s bed—that would certainly make the content more palatable—but talk myself out of it. I’m never going to get my strength back if I keep this up. And I won’t give the queen more reasons to call my partnership with Reid into question.

Black magic isn’t something taught at the academies other than general warnings, tragic events in history that have happened because of it, that kind of thing. The types of spells in this book, I never would’ve believed they were possible. I can’t even imagine the inner workings of a mind that could create these in the first place.

And yet, they’re my ancestors.

Their blood runs through my veins.

What does that say about me?

The thought of performing a spell like this is ludicrous, inconceivable. And yet the feeling clinging to my skin feels much closer toinevitable.

I just wish I knew why Calla and Mom pointed me to this spell. Do they want me to perform it? Am I supposed to sit around and wait for another note to arrive with more instructions? Should I figure out a way to send a note back to let them know I got the book?

It’s infuriatingly vague. Which I guess isn’t unlike a lot of the lessons Mom did with us growing up. They were always under the guise of making us better, helping with problem-solving skills, improving our powers. But no matter how you twist it, the exercises were always cruel.

The spell behind the one she indicated catches my eye because I recognize the illustration in the top left corner. The drawing is faded with time. The edges are feathery and blurry, but I can make out the shape well enough. It looks exactly like the figure I saw in Mom’s room in the shadow world.

I run my finger over the text beside it, the Latin not making sense to me. Except for a single word.

Demon.

This spell is just as complicated, the list of ingredients long enough to cover the page. It’s an entrapment spell. A way to condemn a soul to a different realm and ensure they could never cross back to ours.

Is that what I’d seen in her room? A soul condemned and stuck on that side?

If that’s what it was, what was it doing in my mother’s room? Is it someone she used this spell on? Judging by how much dust was coating the book when I pulled it out, if she had, it wasn’t any time recently.

And in the cruelest brand of irony, one of the final pages is a spell to break blood deals. However, it’s one of the most complicated spells in the book, taking up three entire pages, and there’s a symbol drawn all around the top of the first page. It looks like a warning. An upside-down triangle engulfed in flames with a thick X carved through it.

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