Chapter 4

Shea

My nerves were on edge as I sat on the L train, heading toward Julian's apartment. The movement of the train jostled the bubble of excitement floating in my belly, but the anxiety and anticipation of what I was doing had me tempted to turn around and go home.

After all, I had no idea just what I was about to walk into in the vampire's apartment. And if it did turn out to be legit, there was this guilt gnawing at the excitement bubble and trying to pop it. Guilt for going against Gram's wishes and studying magic. Guilt for working with a vampire when it had been vampires that killed Arya's mom.

But the guilt wasn't enough to make me turn around and go home. I was finally so close to the one thing I had wanted my entire life, and even if it was reckless and foolish, I still had to do it.

I twirled my thumbs, one knee bouncing as the cityscape sped by out the window. Traveling through Chicago on my own was a little intimidating, especially after running into Julian last time. Sure, he was the reason I was here now, but that didn't make our first encounter any less nerve-wracking.

I thought about trying to meet up with Arya—even going so far as to tell Gram that's what I was doing this afternoon—but decided against it. Arya had her shifter life and shifter friends. She probably didn't want to see her witch outcast of a friend, anyway.

I knew that wasn't fair, but I wasn't ready to see Arya yet, and I wasn't sure I was ready to share Julian and his grimoire just yet, either. Part of me really wanted to tell someone—anyone—but another, more insistent part, feared I would lose the grimoire and any chance at deepening my magic if I did.

Plus, I didn't even have the thing yet, so there wasn't necessarily any news to tell. Yet.

So I was alone, twiddling my thumbs and feeling excited, guilty, and lonely.

The train hissed to a stop, and I followed the passengers exiting to the platform. I looked over the railing at the street below, watching the flow of vehicles and human bodies as they bustled to their many destinations. A few moments later, I was down the stairs, tugging on my backpack as I joined the stream of humanity.

I squinted against the bright afternoon sunshine, taking on an air of confidence as I made my way past the various shops. The oddity of a convenience store tucked into a soaring tower made me smile. The familiar aroma of cooked meat and warm grease mixed with the pungent rubber and asphalt, and a moment later, I spotted a McDonald's without a drive-thru.

I laughed. The city never ceased to amuse me.

I followed the directions from Google Maps to Julian's building, craning my neck to take in the skyscraper. Tier after tier of shiny windows stacked on top of each other, framed by semi-ornate stonework that looked both ancient and modern. I wondered briefly how many people might live in a place like that. It looked nice enough from the outside.

The double glass doors slid aside as I approached, sending a cool rush of air through my hair. Inside, I found myself gaping at the sleek lobby. It looked like a fancy hotel—cozy, elegant. Chairs and coffee tables sat in inviting clusters, and an upscale restaurant stood beyond an arch to the right.

The murmur of conversation filled the air, along with the faint clink of fine china and champagne glasses. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. This place was way above Gram's pay grade. It made my house look like a hovel.

The guy behind the concierge counter tipped his head as I approached. "Anything I can help you with?"

I shook my head, trying not to look as dazed and out of place as I felt. "No. Just visiting a friend. Thanks."

"Of course. Elevators are to the left."

I smiled and made my way to the elevator, the blood beginning to thunder in my ears. Julian's description of the location was accurate, if a bit sparse. "Nice" didn't quite cut it. If it weren't for the lack of a check-in desk, I'd think I walked into a hotel rather than an apartment complex.

I felt a little self-conscious in my jeans and t-shirt, with its rude print of a hand with a blurred middle finger. If anything went wrong today, I wanted to die in my favorite shirt, but now I felt like it made me stand out way too much, especially in this place. At least the concierge hadn't looked surprised. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought.

The floors dinged by, finally depositing me on the eighth floor. I got off, following the signs until I stood in front of room eight-twenty-three.

I took a deep breath, standing frozen in front of the door for several minutes as if I were on the precipice of a gallows.

This was it. Either Julian was lying, and this was some sort of trap, or I'd find the grimoire tucked inside his hidden safe, just like he said.

I'd done my best to avoid any doubt during my trip here, but now that I was standing outside his door, I couldn't push the thoughts aside any longer. I mentally checked my meager list of spells, wondering if I should start the vampire-binding one, but decided against it. If this was a trap, my reflexes wouldn't be enough to keep me safe.

I might as well be a lamb wandering into a lion's den.

I hoped Gram wouldn't have to pick me up in a body bag or, worse—lose her only grandchild to the dark underworld. Would she even want to have anything to do with me if I was turned?

I shook my head, rolling my shoulders. I could do this. And I truly didn't think Julian was a bad guy, even if he was a vamp. Why would he make up the story he told me? Besides, the chance to have magic and grow my power was too tempting to ignore.

I looked both ways down the hall, checking for any signs of people. When I felt comfortable that I was alone, I put my hand on the knob.

"Sahad," I muttered, slipping through as soon as I heard the telltale click. Once inside, I quietly shut the door behind me, locking it back in place.

"So far, so good." I turned around, getting my first good look at the place.

It was nothing like I'd expected.

Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched above me, lined by heavy white drapes. The view directly out the window was of the building across the way, but as I neared the sill, I could see down to the street below.

My sneakers squeaked against the glossy, dark wood floors as I continued to explore. The kitchen was gorgeous: ebony cabinets contrasted with white marble counters that looked untouched.

I doubled back to the entrance, noting the closet where Julian said the safe would be, and then peeked my head in the opposite door. There, I found a bathroom that looked like it was made to match the kitchen. It boasted more sleek flooring and cabinets, with a large white tub and countertops.

I let out a low whistle. This place was gorgeous.

The one thing that stood out, though, was the fact that there was no furniture. Well, almost none. One chair sat in a forlorn corner of the living room. It was old and bore a metal plaque on the back that said SKYE BOARDING HOUSE. I walked up to it and reverently traced the well-worn wood, wondering what stories it could tell.

I looked over my shoulder at the large vacant room and found a glossy, black baby grand piano tucked into the opposite corner.

I lifted a brow at the majestic instrument.

"Cliché much?" I said aloud, my voice bouncing off the bare walls. The space felt so empty; I almost had to speak in order to fill the void.

"Bet he plays Clair de Lune, too." I chuckled.

For an apartment, it didn't look very lived in. I wondered what Julian did with himself when he wasn't... hunting. Or maybe this was a decoy apartment. Although, who would spend money on two places, especially since this one was so nice? Surely, he could find someplace cheaper.

"Or maybe he's loaded." Every vampire movie I'd ever seen made them seem like there was no way they couldn't all be filthy rich.

I ran my finger across a swatch of the smooth marble countertop, then stared in disbelief at the lack of residue. "Maybe he spends all his spare time cleaning."

Weird.

But what was even weirder was that the place had no bedroom. I looked back through the whole apartment but still didn't find anything. "Not even a coffin to lay his head."

I laughed again at my own joke. It was almost a pity no one could hear me talking to myself because I was on top of my game right now.

I went back to the closet, depositing my backpack on the floor and opening the double louvered doors. A few coats and some clothes hung there, though it still looked awfully meager, even for a vampire who only needed to occasionally blend in with society. I thumbed through the garments, all of them dark, most of them pure black.

"I'm gonna have to get you a t-shirt with a kitten and a rainbow on it." The man needed some color. And irony.

I pushed the garments aside, revealing what looked like an electrical panel in the wall. I hesitated a moment longer, the sizzling in my nerves reaching a fever pitch. This was what I'd come for, but now that I was here, it kind of terrified me.

What if I couldn't read it? Or I found out I wasn't powerful enough for the bigger spells? Or was the book set to destroy anyone magical who dared open its pages who wasn't of the bloodline that created it?

I inhaled long and slow. "Only one way to find out."

I opened the aluminum panel door, revealing warning stickers, some switches, and a set of dials. I focused on the dials, entering the code Julian had given me. Two-nine-zero-seven .

My fingers shook as I grabbed a switch and began pulling. The inner door opened easily, and I let it swing wide.

The smell hit me first, bearing the distinctive scent of aged paper and leather. There was almost a sweeter scent beneath it, like peach or apple juice had been dribbled on it at some point.

I reached a tentative hand in, as if the book might grow fangs and bite me like in Harry Potter. When I made contact, I jerked my hand back, a strange zap tingling in my fingertips.

Static electricity , I tried to reassure myself.

On a sudden impulse, I plunged my hand back in, snatching the book out before I had the chance to freak out again.

I took the heavy tome to the kitchen counter, wishing I had a barstool or something to sit on. I cast a glance at the chair in the corner but decided against it. There was no way I was gonna risk breaking that thing.

I needed a moment to take this all in. Who knew what I'd face when I got back home? There was no way I'd be bringing this out in front of Gram. She could never know I had it.

The cover looked typical of old books, both simplistic and ornate at the same time. There were no words on the front, nothing visual to mark it as a book of spells, but I could feel that it wasn't ordinary. It was almost as if the book called to me, and I found a strange comfort in the feel of it.

I cracked the book open, pages rustling, a fresh waft of ancient dust filling my nostrils and flavoring my tongue. Right away, I recognized some of the words. I thought again of Julian's accent and wondered just how old he was.

Turning a few more pages, I gaped at the drawings and descriptions, the spells and potions. This book was a treasure trove, and I intended to soak up as much of it as I could.

Another turn of the page and my eyes lit up. "You can change the color of fire?"

I had no idea what witch had come up with that idea or why. Not exactly a practical spell.

"I have to try it."

I read over the word for blue a few times, letting the consonants and vowels roll around in my head until I was sure I had it. I licked my lips, then held out my hand in front of me.

"Irtiu nesret."

Bright blue flames flared from my palm, casting a turquoise glow on the marble countertops. I dispelled the magic and shook my hand.

Greedily, my eyes roved over the page until I spotted a spell for green flames. An impish grin split my lips. "Harry Potter, eat your heart out. Waj nesret. Ack!"

The green flames jumped from my hand, skittering across the wood flooring until it smacked into the bottom of the long drapes. My eyes widened as the fire took to the fabric, starting to lick up the edge.

"No! No, no, no!"

I looked around the kitchen, but, of course, he didn't have a fire extinguisher. I scanned the surfaces, but there wasn't anything—not a bowl or cup or vase—to gather water in. I flung open the cabinets, casting backward glances at the growing fire. The green had bled from the flames, but the curtains were still burning.

I briefly considered flipping through the book for a new spell, but I had no idea how long it would take to find what I needed. So, I kept searching, but the place truly was barren.

"Think!" I hit my head with the heel of my palm, then glanced at the fridge. The drawers! I could pull one of them out to fill it with water.

I jerked open the door, but the sight that greeted me stopped me in my tracks.

Blood bags.

The red liquid inside was dark, and the plastic frosted as the apartment air hit them. I gagged and instantly averted my gaze, yanking the drawer out and slamming the door closed. It hit and slowly eased back open. I didn't wait to watch a second time.

I ran to the sink and filled the drawer with water. "Come on, come on, come on!"

When I had what I hoped was enough, I dashed to the other side of the room, throwing the contents on the flames. They sizzled and smoked, but the flames went out.

I sighed, willing my rapid pulse to slow. "Thank fuck for flame retardant material."

I cast a wary glance at the ceiling, praying the sprinklers there wouldn't go off. I'd already charred Julian's drapes—the last thing I needed was to recreate the flood scene from Sorcerer's Apprentice.

After a few tense moments, I decided I was in the clear.

I collapsed to the floor, spreading out on my back and trying to catch my breath as I stared at the ceiling.

"Great. I have the book for two seconds and I'm already burning shit."

My eyes rolled to the white curtains—and the large, black burn spot that now marred one. I groaned.

A beeping noise cut through the silence, and I sprang to my feet. The fridge. Dammit, I'd forgotten about that popping back open.

I covered my nose and mouth as I neared, hoping to keep the contents of my stomach right where they were as I neared the fridge. I hated blood—the sight, thought, and even the smell. Thankfully, whatever was sitting in the fridge wasn't emitting a smell, but I still felt the need to breathe through my mouth.

I nudged the door closed, letting out another long sigh when the seal finally took.

I glared at the book sitting so innocently on the counter. "This is your fault."

I slammed the grimoire closed, loaded it in my bookbag, and opened the door leading back to the hallway. I took one final backward glance, grimacing again at the curtains.

"At least it wasn't the piano."

I locked the door behind me and scurried out of the building, keeping my gaze on my feet. I might've been able to repair the curtains with a spell, but after that last fiasco, I wasn't exactly eager to try anything else just yet. I'd have to make sure to replace those curtains before the big bad vamp returned.

I just hoped I could do it before he came back and decided to take his thirst out on me instead of the disgusting bags in his fridge. He just might kill me yet.