Taming Demons for Beginners (The Guild Codex Demonized #1) - Annette Marie Page 0,21

Peruggia from A Study of Mythic Crime in the 20th Century—some light reading I’d enjoyed a few weeks ago. Was I weird for admiring a notorious thief of mythic artifacts? She was just so tough and competent.

I scanned the large filing cabinets, imagining I was Celestina scoping her next heist. The cabinets would take too long to search; better leave them for now. I circled Uncle Jack’s desk and dropped into his chair. Papers covered the desktop in sloppy piles, and I rapidly shuffled through them.

In the two days since Zylas had banished me from his sight, I hadn’t returned to the library. I should have. I wanted to keep reading The Summoner’s Handbook and I shouldn’t let a temperamental demon that couldn’t leave his circle stop me. But facing him again …

Besides, my priority was my mother’s grimoire.

I sifted through envelopes, forms, printouts, bookkeeping records, receipts, and sticky notes with scribbled reminders. Where would a professional thief look for valuables? My hands fluttered indecisively around the desk, and I berated myself for hesitating. Celestina wouldn’t have wasted time. Only the best of the best could’ve successfully stolen the Carapace of Valdurna from the terrifying dark-arts master known as the Xors Druid.

I opened the desk drawers. Basic office supplies in the top one. The second held envelopes, stamps, and a broken stapler. The final drawer was full of folders. I flipped one open, discovering a form headed with the MPD logo.

Hmm. MagiPol strictly enforced the laws that kept magic hidden and mythics safe, and they didn’t like it when people, oh, you know, forged important paperwork. I skimmed a few forms, then folded them up and jammed them in my pocket.

Now what? I wiggled the computer mouse and the monitor flashed to life, requesting a password. I thought for a moment, then typed “admin” and hit enter. Nope. I typed “admin1” and hit enter again. The screen blinked to the desktop.

That had been easy. Technological dinosaurs like Uncle Jack didn’t strain their brains worrying about password security. I opened his inbox and scanned subject lines and senders. Far down the list, a name jumped out at me—my name. “RE: Robin Page arrival,” sent by Claude Mercier—Uncle Jack’s business partner. I clicked the email.

Jack, I understand your concerns but if it’s that much of an issue, you should have refused to let her stay with you. I doubt she’ll be any help with the translation anyway. If you involve her, things could get messy.

Claude

I scrolled down, but there was no chain of past emails under the message. Returning to the inbox, I searched for “Claude Mercier” and a short list popped up—too short. Uncle Jack was either archiving or deleting Claude’s emails. Aside from the one about me, the others all contained attachments. I clicked the oldest one, a message from four months ago.

heres the page…i think this is the 12th house?? the sooner you get the name out of it the sooner we can get started. this is our big break.

J.

I cringed over my uncle’s horrible grammar. Claude’s response was right above it.

Jack, why are you sending this by email? Don’t you understand what this page could be worth? Email isn’t secure! No computer is! Delete these emails and the scans. I’ll bring you the translation in person. Be more conscientious of security.

Claude

I scrolled down to the attachment—a JPG file—and double-clicked it. An image opened on the screen: a scan showing a single page of a very old book, the paper yellowed and the ink faded. Handwritten Ancient Greek scrawled across it, but that wasn’t what had me leaning toward the monitor, my eyes wide.

Interspersed in the text were charcoal illustrations. A strange symbol took up the top corner, and a sketch of a person, front and back view, filled the lower half. The illustrated man wore light armor, minimal fabric, and had a long, thin tail that ended in two barbs.

It was a drawing of Zylas. Or, if not him, a similar demon. Was this how Uncle Jack and Claude had summoned a demon that, according to them, had never been summoned before? Had they translated this page and learned a new name—Zylas’s lineage name?

Footsteps thumped in the hall outside. Gasping, I ducked off the chair and into the dark gap under the desk.

The door opened. Shoes smacked across the hardwood, then a filing cabinet drawer slithered open. Had the person noticed the monitor, or was it turned far enough toward the wall to hide that the screen was