2. Chapter 2

Before I stumbled across the bestiary and collected a gathering of weird magical creatures, I hardly ever stepped foot in the Lovell coven house. I had grown up in the orphanage, and the second I was old enough to get out—which was much younger here than in the human Planus realm—I found out the hard way that this place wasn"t my home.

The mansion was a horror show of terrible memories and even worse imprinted energies, since it had been inhabited for generations by evil assholes who did the nastiest magic they could think of with no worry over the consequences. I also had a hard time fitting in anywhere in the magical realm, in general. People either wanted to berate me and punish me for my family"s wrongs, or they wanted to suck up to me and draw me in so they could learn every horrible secret my powerful family possessed.

I quickly decided that it was in my best interest to move to the Planus realm with the humans and pretend I knew nothing about witches or magic. I only came back here as an adult to grab things to pawn so I could keep living far away from this shithole and all the pain associated with it. The house had been heavily booby-trapped the first time I set foot in it. Most of the spells were crafted so they only reacted to people who didn"t have Lovell blood in their veins. But not all of them. I had spent a long time poking around the place, disarming nasty surprises so I could get to the valuables.

I knew I hadn"t found all the spells and traps. The place was immense, and I was only one person. Since coming back here, Elijah had used his incorporeal advantage to help me find a few more spells and disarm them so my guests wouldn"t end up dead. There were some that I hadn"t gotten around to disarming yet, like the man-eating bottom step in the basement—that thing was almost sentient, and it was going to take a lot of magic to destroy. And there was no guarantee I wouldn"t take out the whole damned staircase in the process. But I knew there were also some spells I just hadn"t found yet because I"d been busy with other crap. Like the bestiary. And the SA. And not dying.

My houseguests were all powerful enough to duck and roll if they triggered something. I hoped.

But I was really regretting my lack of thoroughness at the moment. Dyre and I had come up with a spell to help Aahil keep from hurting himself with his own magic. But we needed a trinket of some sort to put it in—a necklace, a bracelet, or some other type of jewelry that could hold the spell but would be convenient to take off in an emergency. Like, say, if the SA found us and the risk of suffering a few full body burns no longer outweighed the need for Aahil to use his magic to survive.

The thing was, the spell would be deep magic, to affect him the way it needed to, and it would be best anchored in a vessel that had the right energies. Just what those energies were, I wasn"t sure. But we"d know when we found it. Lucky for Aahil, the Lovell mansion was full of old, powerful, gaudy baubles.

Dyre and I were currently on the hunt for a suitable piece, and we were drifting further away from the parts of the house that saw regular use. I was afraid one of us was going to trigger a booby trap and blow ourselves up. Although, knowing my family, blowing ourselves up would be the best-case scenario. We were far more likely to find ourselves in some sort of torture spell.

I sighed and opened the door to what had once been my parents" bedroom. Distant memories wanted to come to the forefront, but it didn"t take all that much work to push them back—I was only six years old when they died and I was taken away to the orphanage. And everything from before that time was murky, my memories happily suppressed by trauma.

And by the magic Aahil had cast on me back then to erase my sister from the minds of all who knew her. His handiwork was fading a bit, now that I knew Atropa Belladonna Lovell existed. I would get little snippets of memory here and there, of an older sister who was the only one to make time for me while the rest of the coven was focused on their plans for world domination. But that was it.

The bedroom door creaked faintly as it swung open, and I cast out my awareness, trying to sense any wards or spells. The room was infused with a lingering hint of magic, the faintest trace of the auras of the powerful witches who had once spent so much time here.

I tried not to think of my parents as people, if I could help it. They were things. Evil beings who were distant from me. Relatives on paper, but that was it. Nothing more to me than names on parchment. But sometimes I remembered they were people.

Against my will, I recalled my mother and father looking down at me with actual joy in their eyes when I mastered a spell or did a bit of magic. And as my eyes traveled over the dusty four-poster bed and the expensive furnishings that filled their bedroom, I wondered…had these evil beings snuggled up in bed at night with a steaming cup of tea? Had they been human enough to talk about their day, to whisper their hopes and dreams to each other as they cuddled up to sleep? Had they loved each other? Were the monsters capable of that? And if they were, then were they really monsters at all?

I angrily swiped the back of my hand across my cheek to get rid of the stupid tears. Yes. They were monsters. My family was absolutely evil. No question. Bracing myself, I stomped across the room and threw open the tall, ornate wooden cabinet meant to store jewelry.

A ward buzzed against my skin, but it settled almost immediately, recognizing me as family. I had never come in here in search of things to pawn. It just hadn"t been worth stirring up the emotions that came with memories of my parents. When I saw the contents of the case, I snorted in disbelief. "Glad you had your fucking priorities straight," I muttered, slamming the door closed again.

The case was completely empty. It was possible someone had stolen everything, but I highly doubted it with that ward in place. No one from the SA had been able to get into the mansion right after my parents" executions. Some sort of death magic had protected the place until I came of age. And the booby traps left behind afterward made it too risky to bother with. So I knew it hadn"t been looted. My damned petty parents had simply hidden their valuables.

I did a circuit of the rest of the room, checking hidden cubbies and all the nooks and crannies, but I already knew I wouldn"t find anything. I was relieved when I finally stepped back into the hallway and shut the door behind me, blocking out all thought of my parents once again. Dyre emerged from a room a few doors down, his log nose wrinkled and waving his hand in front of his face as if to dispel a foul smell.

"You okay?" I asked with a lifted eyebrow.

He brushed his long red hair back from his face and looked down his aristocratic nose at me, his expression cold. "Your family was as bad as mine," he snapped. "I just broke a curse meant to melt my skin off my bones."

I sighed. "Mondays, am I right?" Skin-melting curses were just another day at the office around here.

He gave me an unimpressed look, clearly not appreciating my humor. "Have you found anything?"

I shook my head. "Just finished searching my parents" bedroom, so that was fun. It looks like they hid all the good stuff before they faced off with the SA. But if that"s the case, then I know where to look next."

Waving for Dyre to follow me, I headed to the vault. I knew it existed. I had been in there a time or two as a kid. But I hadn"t bothered to try opening it as an adult because, quite frankly, I didn"t want any part of the family fortune. And I didn"t want to know what else they had stuffed away in there that they thought was valuable. The results of my family"s black magic dabbling were often horrific. They had created Hibiscus, after all, combining bits and pieces of still living animals… and probably some poor human soul as well. And Bis hadn"t been the only experiment in the basement lab—just the only one that was still alive when I found him.

I led Dyre back down to the first floor, then all the way to the back of the house to a library that I never used. I had taken over one of the workrooms upstairs and a smaller study on this floor. This bigger library had been my father"s favorite haunt, so I was less inclined to hang out here, simply popping in to grab a grimoire once in a while. When absolutely necessary.

I crossed the room to a section of the towering floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined the walls and ran a hand along one shelf. "There"s a door behind here. I just can"t remember exactly where the latch is. And I"m pretty sure it"s Lovell only."

Dyre joined me in my search for the release button as he scoffed at my concerns. "I"m sure your ancestors didn"t account for a necromancer. And besides," he said, shooting a sharp look my way, "we"re bonded. I have your magic flowing through my aura. It makes the family-specific spells less potent, I think." He shrugged. "I hit a couple of them upstairs and they just… fizzled out."

I frowned at him. Those spells should react to blood. But maybe he was right. Maybe the combination of Sunshine"s power and our lifebond was enough to protect him.

"Speaking of the bond," Dyre said as he ran his long fingers under the lip of the bookshelf. "We should do the ritual to dissolve it."

I knew this was coming. When we formed the lifebond, we had intended it to be temporary. It was a way to link our magic together so we could hide Sunny"s presence and get the others back from the O"Leary asshats. Dyre and I hadn"t been lovers at the time. We never intended the bond to be real. But some small, stubborn part of me was violently opposed to dissolving it now.

I moved some books aside, shuddering at the touch of dark magic in them, and refused to look at the necromancer. "Not now," I said evenly. "We could use the power boost to work this spell for Aahil. And if—or when—the SA finds us, we"ll be able to link up and amplify our power. Why get rid of our strongest weapon?"

He had moved closer, and I was surprised when he wrapped a hand around my wrist and turned me toward him. He usually avoided touching me. "Andy."

His handsome face was too thin, all sharp angles and unhealthy shadows, but he was still alluring somehow, despite the pale, blue-tinged skin and the way his violet eyes sometimes flashed to pure black as the monster within him peered out. "After what happened, you can"t honestly want to stay tied to me. We need—"

I stepped into his space, and he took an automatic step back, releasing my arm. It was always like this. He refused to get close to me ever since we"d spent the night together. He hadn"t touched me since I had woken up to the wraith in my bed. No matter how many times I told Dyre that I wanted them both, that I hadn"t minded at all that Sunshine had fucked my brains out using their shared body, he wouldn"t believe me. He was convinced that he was a monster, and that he was now hosting a rapist inside him. The ridiculous idiot.

"Don"t be stupid," I said firmly. "If you hate me, fine. If you"re so sick of this connection between us you just can"t stand it, then sure, I"ll help you with the ritual to get rid of it. But I know that"s not the reason you keep pushing this. You"re only doing this because you think you"re a monster and you"re planning to run off the first chance you get, off to live in solitude and hate yourself forever." I poked him in the center of his skinny chest. "And I won"t let you do that. Sunny won"t let you do that. So you"re stuck with us until you can listen to me for once and have an actual conversation about this." I turned away. "In the meantime," I said as I finally remembered where the damned button was. "We"ve got shit to do, and it really will be helpful if we keep this massively powerful connection for a while longer."

I pressed the button and there was a faint click, then the bookcase swung outward, revealing a set of stairs that led down to a lower floor that wasn"t connected to the rest of the basement level. I fumbled around and found a light switch, cheering out loud when the bulb still worked. Electricity was yet another facet of the whole pocket world that I didn"t understand, but also didn"t question for fear of jinxing us. Dyre heaved a massive sigh behind me as we both trudged down the stairs.

The vault was sealed with an old-timey safe door, but it didn"t require a combination. I simply had to place my hand inside a creepy indentation that was stained the rusty color of old blood. A spike shot up and pierced my hand, and I let the blood run for a second so the damned thing would see that I was a Lovell.

What was funny to me about all the family-specific stuff was that the coven never once seemed to have been worried about someone within the family betraying them. On the surface, that seemed na?ve. But then again, it made sense. I was pretty sure no one ever betrayed the family because they were too afraid to even think about it. My ancestors would not have hesitated to do terrible things to anyone who wronged them—even blood relatives.

Once we spun the creepy old door open, I cast a spell to light the witch lights inside. The cavernous space was filled to the brim with my family"s hoarded crap. The lights gleamed off precious metals, and gemstones, and ornate wooden boxes. Shelves were full to bursting with ancient grimoires and personal journals. And the nasty, residual magic coming off it all gave me an instant headache as it pressed in on me like a crushing physical force.

"Goddess," Dyre said from right behind me, his deep voice rougher than usual. "This place is steeped in death and suffering."

I sighed. "Why do you think I never came down here and pawned all this shit?" Bracing myself, I took a few slow steps forward. "If there isn"t some artifact in here that will work, then I don"t know what to tell you."

He huffed a dry laugh and followed me inside. I braced myself as a sudden surge of magic echoed through the space, whirling to face Dyre with a warning shout frozen on my lips. But he was right—the Lovell-specific protection simply hit his aura and… dispersed. He grimaced, like it caused some discomfort. But then it was over, and the necromancer was still standing.

"That"s not right," I muttered, breath coming short after being convinced he was about to be killed.

He shrugged, his violet eyes rimmed in a bit of black as Dyre and Sunshine both peered out at me through their shared body. "I have no idea," he said. And that was concerning, because Dyre was a master at magic, especially old magic. And blood magic was his natural affinity.

I shook my head and turned back to the search. "Just… don"t die."

He shouldered past me. "I"ll try to remain as alive as I ever am," he said dryly, since he tended to look rather… undead, most of the time. He and Sunshine couldn"t help that their symbiotic relationship was hard on their shared physical body. But Dyre was self-conscious about how he looked.

We sifted through Lovell treasures for a while in silence before I finally found what we were looking for. "I think this is it!" I said, opening the glass case that contained a small locket. The necklace had traces of magic and emotion that I thought would make the perfect sympathetic magic for Aahil"s spell. It was hard to describe. I felt sadness, and fear, and pain there, but also a heavy dose of love, and joy, and determination. Tenderness tempering the pain. And the magic on it didn"t feel entirely Lovell in nature. It felt a little… wilder, maybe? It should be perfect for our purposes.

I took the necklace out of the case and turned to hold it out to Dyre. "What do you think? If I remember correctly, this belonged to one of the first witches in our coven, so I think it"s a little less sullied than the rest." I shrugged. "Maybe she wasn"t as awful as her descendants."

Dyre"s eyes landed on the locket, and he froze. I watched in confusion as a wave of conflicting emotions passed across his usually stoic face. His eyes darted to mine, and I was surprised to see that one eye had gone completely black while the other stayed violet, something that usually only happened when Dyre was struggling to control himself. "Where…" his deep voice broke, and he had to try again several times before words came out. "How did you get this?"

He held out a hand for the locket, his fingers trembling. I dropped the necklace into his big hand, wary as I watched the all-powerful necromancer have some sort of breakdown.

"It was in a case," I said, hiking a thumb over my shoulder toward where I"d found the necklace. "Like I said, I vaguely remember my mom showing it off at some point when I was little. She said it belonged to the first witch to found our coven." I stepped closer, my heart pounding at his reaction. I put a hand a hand on his arm when he just stood there blinking as tears ran down his cheeks. "Dyre, what"s wrong? Is it a spell? Are you hurt?" But I couldn"t sense any active magic right now.

He shook his head, his Adam"s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed convulsively. "No. I…" He tore his gaze off the locket long enough to look at my face, his eyes searching. "Did anyone ever open it?"

I frowned. "I don"t think so. I remember mom complaining about that when she showed it off to some elder from another coven. She said it was spelled shut, and they didn"t want to destroy it by trying to force it open. Plus, they were afraid it might contain a hex or something, since the original owner obviously didn"t want anyone else looking at whatever"s inside."

I watched in surprise as Dyre lifted the thing and pressed the little heart-shaped locket to his lips. It was a spell of some sort, and I felt it release. The locket popped open, and a tiny slip of yellowed paper fell out into Dyre"s shaking hand.

"What is it?" I asked. "Is there something written on it?"

Dyre"s deep voice was nothing more than a pained whisper. "My love, there is no hope for me. Flee now, while you still can. And know you take the best of me with you when you go."

He spoke without looking at the paper, his eyes glazed with some heartbreaking emotion.

"Dyre," I said slowly, a bad feeling creeping up my spine. "How did you open that locket? How do you know what"s on the paper?"

He closed his eyes and curled his fingers around the locket and its contents, as if I might snatch them away from him. "Because I wrote it." He opened his eyes again, the violet pools wide and shocked. "I"m the one who gave it to her. Why does your family have my… Maureen"s locket?"