Unhallowed (Rath and Rune #1) - Jordan L. Hawk Page 0,94

to convince the junior librarian who admitted to asking about it that it was just a dead rat in an inaccessible place.

The Book of Breath had been replaced on its plinth and the wall rebuilt under the direction of the Endicott sorcerers. The alteration had also been removed and reconstructed, so the spirit trap should work properly again.

The small group currently gathered in front of the rebuilt wall had apparently just finished some sort of ceremony, based on the smell of incense and the symbols chalked onto the plaster. Their leader was a distinguished Black man; the Endicotts must acquire new blood wherever the British Empire went in the world. Irene was easy to spot amidst them in her plumed hat and silk dress.

She turned as they approached. “Well, that’s done with,” she said. “Hopefully we won’t hear another peep out of her.”

“I certainly hope not,” Ves agreed. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

She arched a brow, but followed him a short distance away. When Sebastian hesitated, Ves beckoned him over. This involved him as well, in a way. “I just wanted to know…Fagerlie promised Noct and me that he would lift the curse of our blood. I thought perhaps your family could help us? I’m not certain how I’d repay you, but…”

He trailed off as Irene shook her head. A gentle expression came over her features, and she patted his arm. “I’m sorry, Vesper. But there is no ‘curse of your blood.’ There’s just…you. As with any child, if there was a way to take away half of what makes it alive, all you’d have left would be a messy pile of bits.”

“Oh.” A part of him had suspected the answer, but even so, hearing it spoken aloud felt like the final nail in a coffin.

Sebastian put a hand on Ves’s arm. “Come back to my office with me. We can start looking for the next Book of the Bound.”

“I’d like to stop in the bindery first, actually.”

They walked back in silence. Once they were inside, Sebastian shut the door and pulled Ves into a hug. “I’m sorry, angel.”

Ves hugged him back. “So am I.” He let out a long breath. “But…it’s all right, I think. Up until now, Noct and I really never had anyone but each other. Now we have you, and Bonnie, and the children, and the librarians. We might be monsters, but we’re monsters who belong somewhere.”

Sebastian kissed him softly. When the skin along Ves’s spine began to tingle, he pulled away. “No ‘high spirited behavior,’ remember?”

“I remember.” Sebastian kissed him again, swiftly. “Now, what did you want from here?”

Ves walked slowly to his desk and removed the secret document drawer. The aged slip of paper with its signatures in blood was still inside.

To whomever comes after me: I charge you to continue our sacred work. To stand against necromancy and things from the Outside, and bind them so they cannot exert their will on our world.

Nathaniel R. Ladysmith, December 13, 1859

Thomas Halliwell, February 10, 1864

Rebecca Rath, October 31, 1882

Kelly O’Neil, January 28, 1905

Ves took out his bookbinding kit and removed the same needle that had passed through Sebastian’s arm not long ago. It had been cleaned, and its sharp point gleamed as he pressed it to his own finger. Below O’Neil’s name, he wrote:

Vesper Rune, May 23, 1910

He didn’t know what effect it would have on him, if any, given his magic resistance. But it was an Oath, a Binder’s Oath, and if nothing else a visible mark of his commitment.

He set it down to let the blood dry, then turned to Sebastian and found him smiling. “You’re one of us, now,” Sebastian said. “A part of the library.”

“I just signed an oath in blood. You don’t need to make it more ominous.”

Sebastian laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “Come on. Let’s get to work.”

Once in Sebastian’s office, he retreated to the pile of architectural drawings. “We have the letters, and we have these. I wonder if going through the drawings with an eye toward any that have built-in spirit traps would help?”

“Are those all of Dromgoole’s buildings?”

“I don’t know.” Sebastian frowned as he began to shuffle slowly through them. “I don’t think there’s a record of everything he designed…but how many could there be?”

Ves shrugged. “I haven’t the slightest idea. Fewer than if he wasn’t chasing down murderous books, I should think.”

Sebastian chuckled. “You’re not wrong. I…”

The words faded, and his skin went chalk-white. Ves hurried to his side. “What’s