then shrugs. “Should we check it out?”
Before I can answer, my skin erupts in goosebumps, and a deep sense of unease crawls down my spine. I cock an ear, but other than the river and a few chatty night birds, the land around us is silent.
“Something is off,” I say.
Doc sighs, tightening his grip on my hand. “I feel it too. I just don’t know whether it’s better to follow the river’s path, or head into the cave and get out of sight.”
“I think he’s close.” I take a deep breath, then look up into his eyes, the sense of unease quickly turning to dread. It pools in my stomach, as cold and sticky as raw dough.
The back of my throat tastes of ash.
It’s no longer a matter of if, but when.
“When we see him,” I say urgently, “if he gets a hold of either one of us, just remember—whatever happens, whatever remnants of the past he tries to dredge up—none of it is real. Nothing in this place is real.”
“You’re real,” he says, brushing his knuckles across my jaw. “As long as I hold on to that, I’ll—”
His words cut off abruptly, his mouth going slack, eyes filling with pain.
“Doc?” I reach for his face, trying to get him to meet my gaze, but it’s like he doesn’t even know I’m here. “What’s happening? Doc! Cassius!”
He drops to his knees and clutches at his heart, his whole body shuddering as he fights to catch his breath.
And there on his bare chest, right behind his desperately clawing fingers, a fiery red wound blazes to life.
XX. The mark of Dark Judgment.
Thirteen
KIRIN
Even at this late hour, a handful of diehard grad students occupy the library, tucked into research cubbies with ancient manuscripts and contraband coffee drinks, diligently checking their facts and compiling research, cramming their heads full of esoteric knowledge on everything from magickal correspondences to poisons to the myths and legends that form the backbone of our beliefs.
The soft glow of their lamps, the smell of old books, the muted click of laptop keyboards, the singular beauty of the architecture… All of it feels like home. The academy library has been my sanctuary for as long as I can remember. It literally saved my life.
But tonight, it fills me with uncertainty. A deep sense of foreboding snakes around my heart, squeezing tight.
I take a deep breath, willing it away, forcing my attention back to Casey.
Moving through the main level like a one-woman locust swarm, she has no trouble dispersing the lingering students, likely employing some elaborate APOA scare tactics.
Run along, good little witches and mages! Go home and lock your doors! Don’t leave your candles burning unattended! And most of all, don’t let the bogeymen steal your magick!
Hovering in the shadows with Baz just inside the main entrance, I let out a deep sigh. Scare tactics. Right. As if we’re not facing down the biggest actual threat against the magickal community in centuries. Maybe even millennia.
“You good, brother?” Baz asks, his voice low in the darkness.
“Not exactly. But lucky for you, we don’t have time for another therapy session tonight.”
“Dodged a bullet, then.” He cracks a smile, but his firm grip on the back of my neck tells me he’s not screwing around. We’re in this together, wherever the night takes us.
Goddess, what a fucking shit show. As much as I want to fully trust my sister, my insides are still vibrating with a toxic mix of anger and fear and the hot, prickly paranoia that comes from being violated. The archives… I still can’t believe it. Melissa’s life’s work, Stevie’s legacy, her deepest connection to her deceased mother—not to mention most of the hand-written work Stevie herself amassed—it’s all gone. And for what? To what ends? Who’s to blame? Was it Eastman? Trello? Some other agent provocateur we can only guess at?
For all her talk of our safety, Casey left us with very little to go on.
Right now, the only thing keeping her from earning a permanent position on my shit list is the fact that she didn’t take my backups. Whoever stole the primary research must believe they can benefit from Stevie’s translations, or prevent us from doing so. Either way, if Casey was in on the sabotage, she would’ve swiped the drives out of that book in an instant.
That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway. That Casey really is on our side.
“Here we go,” Baz whispers, nodding toward the back of the library, where Agent Quintana has just