she couldn’t associate with me. I said as long as she refused to share the grimoire, I didn’t want anything to do with her. We went on with our lives for years and years, then …”
“Then you got her letter,” I guessed.
“And she died.” He rubbed a hand over his greasy forehead and stubbly hair. “The grimoire was finally mine. I could take my career to the next level and become a famous summoner like I’d always wanted. And, of course, I would protect the grimoire too. It would be safe with me …”
“You tried to sell the First House name to Red Rum,” I pointed out angrily. “How was that protecting the grimoire?”
“That was a mistake. A stupid, greedy mistake. Robin, I thought the grimoire had been forgotten. I never thought anyone would tie me and your mother to the legends.” He exhaled unsteadily. “But I’d already made my biggest mistake, long before I ever touched the grimoire.”
I stared at him coldly. “What was that?”
“Claude,” he whispered.
My heart felt like a block of lead, weighed down by sickening trepidation that had no outlet; the terrible consequences had already played out.
“I don’t know if he was already searching for us when he befriended me years ago, or if he heard me complain about my sister cheating me out of our family’s priceless Demonica grimoire.” He gripped the arms of his recliner, knuckles white. “He never asked about the grimoire or Sarah. How could I have guessed it? Even after … even after Sarah …”
Uncle Jack buried his face in his hands and a hoarse sob wheezed in his throat.
“He killed my parents, didn’t he?” My throat was so dry the words hurt. “Claude killed my parents.”
Uncle Jack lowered his hands from his face, his eyes damp and haunted. “I never suspected him, not until the demon escaped last month. He demanded the grimoire, and when I refused, he tried to force me to give it up.”
Amalia folded her hands together in her laps, fingers squeezing tightly. “I’m surprised he didn’t kill you.”
“He didn’t know where the grimoire was. I never let him near it, you see. I copied individual pages and sent them to him. He’s never seen the actual book.”
Well, at least Uncle Jack had been smart about one thing. I unclenched my jaw before my molars cracked, pain and grief and fury forming a maelstrom in my lungs.
“I’ve been hiding here ever since,” Uncle Jack said heavily. “I knew he’d be watching you, Amalia. I didn’t want to give him any reason to think you knew where to find me.”
“Who is Claude?” she demanded. “His demon is in an illegal contract.”
“His demon is Second House,” I added darkly. “He has all the demon names now, because of you.”
“Not all of them,” he corrected. “A demon name is made up of three parts: the name written in the demonic language, the House’s sigil, and the proper pronunciation. Claude only has two of the three for the Twelfth House. I never let him see how the name is written.”
Claude had told me he had all the names, but maybe he’d been stretching the truth. If he couldn’t summon the Twelfth House himself, that explained his offer from weeks ago—the invitation to join with him. He’d wanted access to Zylas.
“I don’t know who he is,” Uncle Jack admitted. “I can’t investigate from here, but I’ve confirmed ‘Claude Mercier’ is a fake identity. He appeared about six years ago. That’s all I know.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, drowning in a torrent of emotions. Claude had murdered my parents. That knowledge shifted the axis of my world. Suddenly, my grief wasn’t alone. It had been joined by an equally powerful, scorching need for justice. For revenge.
“What about the Twelfth House?” I asked him hoarsely.
“What about it?”
“Why is it special? Claude told me his goal is to get his hands on a Vh’alyir demon.”
Uncle Jack tensed. “How do you know that name?”
“I found the scanned page on your computer before the house burned down.”
“Oh.” He drummed his fingers on his knee. “There are rumors—or legends, I should say, about the Twelfth House. Some say Vh’alyir is the most powerful, while others say it’s a uselessly weak House. One legend says the House is cursed.”
I tensed. “Cursed?”
“I don’t know what it means. The answers are probably in the grimoire.”
My spine stiffened even more. I braced myself. “Where is the grimoire?”
He gazed at me, and I didn’t look away. Didn’t blink. Didn’t cower.
“Here,” he replied quietly.