CHAPTER 12
“Fuck. Moving.” Fuck it so hard.
I collapse onto my bed.
My arms shake from carrying things up three flights of stairs over the course of the day, and my ass and legs are numb from the exertion. And that’s not even getting into the fact that many of the notes and labels I put on my stuff have fallen off. And Great Goddess of Earth and Heaven, everything is not where it’s supposed to be, and my head hurts from it all.
But you know what? It’s done.
I stare up at my ceiling, hearing the muted laughter of witches in nearby rooms.
A thrill runs down my spine. This is my life now. I attend Henbane Coven. No more waiting and yearning. I get to live here and learn here and lean into all my long-awaited dreams.
I survey my tiny room all over again, and my eyes eventually rest on Nero.
My familiar lounges on a throw blanket I’m pretty sure he dragged off my bed and onto the floor and is chewing on a bone I got him from the butcher’s. The bone makes a sickening crack; then I hear Nero’s rough tongue lapping up Goddess knows what.
“Can you not do that on my blanket?” I ask him.
He ignores me.
Defective familiar.
“I should return you,” I say to him. “I bet I could buy like fifty cute, fluffy familiars for the price of you.”
Now Nero glances up at me, and he licks his lips. Pretty sure that was panther for sounds tasty.
I sigh.
After heading over to the window, I shimmy the pane up, letting in a gust of cool air.
Outside, the giant oak tree I saw earlier looms like a dark shadow. One of the tree’s thicker branches tees off just beneath my window. The location and sturdiness of it is so convenient that some previous witch must’ve spelled the branch to be that way, either for herself or her familiar.
I turn to Nero. “I’m going to leave this window open for you so you can come and go as you please.”
In response to my words, my familiar rises to all fours. After giving a satisfied stretch, he hops onto the bench seat beneath the window.
“Now, remember, no hunting humans or house pets, okay?” I tell him. “They’re not on the menu.”
Nero glowers at me.
“Oh, and no eating other witches’ familiars,” I say. “Oh, and definitely do not attack lycanthropes. It won’t end well for you.”
Nero gives me a disgruntled look, like I’m the world’s cruelest master.
“Just about everything else is free game. I’ll leave my window open so you can get back inside.” I chew on my lower lip. “You can climb, right?”
He gives me another disgruntled look.
“Geez,” I say, holding up my hands. “No offense meant.” Well, maybe a little offense meant. He is an ass, after all. “I just wanted to make sure.”
With that, Nero springs out of my room and onto the oak branch. Without a backward glance, he slinks down the tree before silently dropping to the ground and prowling off into the darkness.
I worry my lower lip as I stare after him. That oaf better not get himself hurt. And he better stay warm.
I sit on the edge of my bed. I’m utterly spent from a day of moving, and I need to take a shower and try to unwind, but my body still buzzes with energy. Now that I have a moment alone, I want to explore. There are new smells, new sounds, and a heady thrum of power in the air itself that I want to acquaint myself with.
Decision made, I push off the bed. I’m nearly to my door when I hear rustling from the oak tree outside. A moment later, Nero quietly hops into our room.
“Back already?” I ask. “I thought you’d be out exploring all evening.”
He comes up to me and rubs against my thigh before plopping down on the blanket he stole from me once more.
“I was just about to leave,” I say. “Want to explore some more with me?”
In response, Nero yawns in my face.
“Fine. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
I grab the doorknob and head out of my new room, closing the door behind me. Halfway down the hall, I hear claws scratching against the back of the door.
Fucking cats.
I walk back to my room and open the door. Nero glances up at me, then silently slips out. I look at the inside of the door and—
“Holy Mother of Magic Mushrooms, Nero, why do you have to be such a beast?” Several deep claw marks have gouged the base of the door, and wood shavings litter the ground.
Cats, man.
The lights in the hallway flicker. They look like a relic from a century ago, and judging by the magic sputtering off them, I’m guessing they’re as old as they appear.
I head down the stairs to the first floor. This level is full of common rooms, most of which I have seen only in passing.
I head toward the house’s sprawling library, Nero padding along beside me. When I enter, I don’t see anyone inside, all the plush velvet sofas and chairs empty. On the far side of the library, a massive fireplace holds the dying embers of a banked fire.
And then, of course, are the books. Hundreds and hundreds of them nestled neatly into almost every square inch of this place.
I move through the room, stopping to touch this book or that, all while Nero follows beside me. Many of the tomes are moth-eaten, their gilded lettering rubbed half away and their pages yellowed. I bite my lip as I read the spines of books written in Latin and Ancient Greek, the old languages as familiar to me as the face of a dear friend.
Farther in, I see books on Nostradamus’s writings and the Dead Sea Scrolls and several other dated texts, some religious, some not, and some occupying that space people like to call heretical. It’s a space we witches have lived and died in.
There are historical books on witches and witchcraft, as well as books that analyze general spellcraft. It’s all very academic, and I relish every bit of it.
When I get to the far end of the library, near the stone fireplace, I hesitate. To my left, an ornately carved door is set deep into the wall. Magic pulses softly from it.
Shimmery wards run along the edges of it, locking the room from supernaturals unaffiliated with Henbane Coven.
I used to be one of them. In fact, the first and only time I tried to open this door was sometime last year when I was visiting Sybil. I can’t remember why I came into the library or why I tried to enter the room, but I definitely remember getting shocked. Part of me is certain the same thing will happen now.
Only one way to find out.
I reach for the handle. My hand closes over the metal knob, and I wait for a moment, readying myself for the wards to lash out at me.
Nothing happens.
Below me, Nero nudges my leg, as if to tell me to hurry up. It must be nice for him, not having to worry about getting fried by protective magic.
And I am still worried. I haven’t opened the door after all.
I take a deep breath. No time like the present.
I turn the knob and pull. Above me the ward flares brightly for a moment, and yet…no painful spell lashes out at me. Instead, the door creaks as I open it. Beyond the threshold is darkness.
A second later a wave of power crashes into me, and I stagger back. It isn’t a ward striking me or anything of the sort. It’s simply magic. Lots and lots of cloying, potent magic. I practically choke on it all as I grope around for a light switch.
I don’t find one, but in the darkness, I can just make out a lantern set next to the door, a partially melted candle inside. A lantern but no matches.