Page 33 of Witches of Dubious Origin
I glanced at the volume on the table. Should I leave ithere? Take it with me? If I left the room, would I get a vicious headache and black out again?
“No one will touch the book,” Tariq promised. “You can leave it in my care.”
“All right.” I stepped back from the table and the cover of the book slammed shut, making me jump. The metal bands locked into place in the hexagon as if the book were an old lady, primly tightening the belt on her bathrobe. Well, hell, what did that mean?
I glanced at Tariq and Jasper. They wore matching expressions of surprise. I was glad it wasn’t just me. I cleared my throat and leaned down over the book. There was no way I could mask the awkwardness in my voice when I said, “I’ll be right back. You don’t have to blast me with a headache, okay?”
The latch on the book didn’t move and I couldn’t feel any emotion coming from it. Of course, it wasn’t as if I expected it to do anything, but I suddenly appreciated the clear communication that came from Freya the cat-book or book-cat, however it identified itself. I hesitated.
Tariq met my gaze across the table. “You won’t know unless you go.”
I leaned down again. “I’ll only be a minute. Seriously, you won’t even miss me.”
Again I felt nothing. Wait. That was exactly what I felt. Nothing. But not the nothing of no feeling; rather, it was the nothing from being shut out.
Straightening up, I said, “I think it’s shunning me.”
“Meaning you can go, but it’s going to sulk when you return,” Jasper said. “Sounds like a woman I once dated.”
Tariq laughed, but I was a bit too freaked-out to find humor in the fact that I was talking to a book, having a sort of relationship with a book that went beyond reading it. This was bizarre on so many levels.
Jasper turned on his heel and led the way to the door. I glanced at Tariq, who made a shooing gesture with his hand. “Go. It’ll be fine.”
I turned and followed the well-muscled Brit, half expecting to be struck by cranial pain at any moment, but nothing happened. We stepped through the door into the main BODO library and I paused. I was fine. No headache. No blackout. It felt like a win.
Jasper was striding across the room toward one of the spiral staircases. I hurried after him, wondering what he could possibly plan to show me that would rival a book that had just shut and locked itself.
There were three stories in the BODO library and when we reached the top one, I found I was winded. Exercise had never been high on my list of priorities. Given the choice between jogging several miles or reading half a book, I’d choose the book every time. I realized I was going to have to recalibrate my thinking. If I had to climb these stairs every day while I worked on deciphering the book, I was going to get into shape whether I liked it or not.
“All right?” Jasper asked.
“Fine,” I fibbed. I could hear the rasping of my breath in the stillness of the library and I attempted to stifle it, taking smaller, shallower breaths and trying to look as if I weren’t about to keel over while I caught my breath.
Jasper’s smile was a slash of white teeth. He was clearlyamused by my attempt to hide my lack of fitness. “If you’re going to work here, you’ll likely have to start using the gym on the premises. Some of our assignments require peak athleticism.”
“I’m not going to work here.” I shook my head. “This is a temporary job swap until I can figure out what happened to my mother and grandmother, decode the book, and send Eloise on.”
“Why temporary?” he asked. “Why don’t you want to work here?”
Good question. It was getting harder to answer with each passing day, so I went for the simple nonanswer. “It’s complicated.”
“So you’ve mentioned.” He raised one eyebrow, inviting me to share more. I didn’t.
“You wanted to show me something?”
“Quite right.” He turned away, filling my vision with his broad shoulders, slim waist, and— I forced my gaze away. Just because they didn’t grow them like this back at my public library didn’t mean I had an excuse to ogle.
He turned in to one of the many alcoves made by the bookcases. “Miles filled me in on the theory about your grandmother being born into the famous Donadieu coven in France. I thought this section might be of interest to you.”
He gestured to the shelf that was at eye level. My gaze narrowed. “These books are in French.”
“Précisément.” He bowed his head and I suspected he was testing me to see if I read French, which of course I did.
I turned and scanned the spines of the books. They reminded me of the grimoire I had left with Tariq, minus themetal bands and funky lock. I pulled one from the shelf. It was old and handwritten. There was a date at the top in the European style of day, month, year, with the month spelled out.
I scanned a random passage. My French was rusty but not so much that I didn’t know what I was reading. I turned to Jasper and asked, “Was there a specific reason you felt I needed to research spells to enhance a man’s virility?”
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