Page 84 of Witches of Dubious Origin
I held the paper, and Jasper and I read the obituary silently together. It was a punch in the chest to see that my mother and I were listed as Mamie’s only surviving relatives. Her many contributions to the community were also listed, but there was no cause of death, nothing that gave me any indication of how she died.
I opened my backpack and pulled out the grimoire. I carefully folded the printout of Mamie’s obituary, planning to tuck it into the back of the grimoire for safekeeping. Before I could offer the book a drop of blood to open it, I felt a tear form in my eye and it plopped onto the book cover, right into the hexagonal medallion. The lock on the book turned and the cover flopped open. The pages began turning themselves and I jerked back in surprise. I glanced at Jasper to see if hewas witnessing this, and when his gaze met mine, his eyes went wide with shock.
He snatched a tissue out of a nearby holder and handed it to me. “You have something in your eye.”
I dabbed at the dampness that I felt, and when I pulled the tissue away, I noted it was bloody. “What the hell?”
“Precisely,” Jasper agreed.
There was a rap on the door and Roger appeared. Jasper blocked me from view.
“Is everything all right in here?” Roger asked.
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Jasper took the bloody tissue from my hand and held it to my nose, tipping my head back. He then shoved the grimoire and Mamie’s obituary into my bag and thrust it into my arms. Then he hauled me to my feet and pulled me toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“But the film—” I protested. The librarian in me resisted leaving without putting away the materials we’d used.
“No time.” Jasper steered me out of the room. “Roger, mate, so sorry! Have to dash. Nosebleed! We left the film in the machines, if you wouldn’t mind taking care of it…”
“Not at all,” Roger said. I don’t think I imagined the sound of relief in his voice that my “nosebleed” was being ushered out of the building at top speed and would not be his problem.
Once we were out of sight of the library, Jasper stopped and removed the tissue from my nose. His forehead creased with lines of concern as he took in my face.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said quickly—too quickly. “Perhaps don’t make eye contact with anyone.”
“Ziakas, are you bleeding out of your eyeballs?” Olive appeared behind Jasper with Eloise in tow.
“No!” I protested, and then added, “Maybe?”
“The whites of your eyes are red,” Eloise helpfully informed me. “You look like a vampire.”
“Vampires are real?” I gasped. My brain was clearly avoiding acknowledging that I was crying blood tears, probably because I would absolutely faint if it did.
“Discussion for another day.” Olive handed me her sunglasses. “Wear these.”
“Thank you.” I slid them on and immediately felt much less conspicuous, which was saying something given that I was wearing dark shades on a rainy day, knowing full well I did not have Olive’s panache to carry it off.
“What happened?” Olive asked.
“We found Mamie’s obituary,” I said. “But when I took the grimoire out of my backpack to put the obit inside it, I was suddenly bleeding out of my eyes.”
“The blood dropped onto the latch and the book unlocked and the pages started flipping,” Jasper explained. “It was as if the book wanted to show her something.”
“Did you note the pages?” Olive asked.
“Weirdly, with blood pouring out of my eyes, I didn’t think to,” I said.
Olive’s lips pursed and I knew that if it was in her vernacular she would have called me lame. Whatever. I had bigger questions.
“Why would it do that?” I asked. “I mean, it’s the book that made my eyes turn red and bleed, isn’t it?”
“Probably.” Olive glanced at my backpack. “I suspect it’s getting impatient, waiting for you to translate it and handle the undead persons, like Eloise, who were left in limbo after your grandmother’s passing.”
“Did you know it could do something like this to me?” I asked, not even trying to keep the outrage out of my voice.
