Page 59 of Discovery of the Vampire
After another long look, Lizzy let go of my shoulders, her expression still uneasy, but she didn’t press further. She walked back to the counter, her movements deliberate, and picked up the lavender she’d been unpacking. “By the way,” she said, her tone casual, “we have guests coming in from Seattle tonight. Killian is picking them up from the airport in a few hours.”
I wasn't sure why she was telling me this. "Friends of his?"
"I wouldn't exactly say that." She stopped and looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "More like allies."
"Vampires?"
She nodded, tying the lavender into a bundle with a piece of twine. “And witches. Relatives of the witches here."
"I don't understand."
She paused, glancing up at me. "I told you, you're not alone. Marcus has a son. Jesse. He's a powerful warlock. Half-witch, half-djinn. The last time his father was here, they fought, but Marcus got away."
My breath caught in my throat. Marcus’s son? I hadn’t even considered that Marcus might have a child, let alone one who wasn’t on his side. That changed things. That changedeverything. If Jesse knew Marcus, if he understood him—maybe there was a way to stop him without the book. Maybe I didn’t have to find it. Maybe I could make a deal with this Jesse instead.
A flicker of hope sparked in my chest, fragile but insistent. It was the first time since I'd found Marcus in my apartment that I’d felt anything but dread. "And he's coming because his father is back?"
"Yes," she told me. "And he's bringing his sister, who is also half-djinn, along with their vampire mates—Shea and Christian." She stopped what she was doing. "I have a feeling that whatever you want to do here tonight has something to do with Marcus. Am I right?"
I didn't answer. But I didn't deny it.
She nodded as though I had. "Will you be in danger?"
I didn't lie when I said, "Not from him."
"Okay," she told me. "Do what you need to do. And then come to the house."
I shifted my weight, guilt gnawing at me. “Lizzy, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Brogan and I...” I drifted off, unsure how to explain everything that'd happened between us.
Her expression softened, and she reached across the counter, placing a hand on mine. “Listen to me. You’remyguest. Not his. If he has a problem with you being there, he can take it up with Killian and me. But he won’t.”
“We kind of had a fight,” I said quietly, pulling my hand away and crossing my arms. "Sort of." It was the first thing that came to my mind.
“Brogan will deal,” Lizzy interrupted. “He won’t make a scene, and if he does, I’ll handle it. You’re not some random person off the street, Esme. You’remyemployee. My friend. And you’re welcome in my home. Got it?”
I nodded, unable to argue with her when she laid it out like that. “Sí. Got it."
“Good,” she said, straightening and returning to her bundles of lavender. “Besides, he'll probably be at the club."
Something ugly and painful streaked through me at the thought of Brogan on that stage, or worse, in the private room, but I shoved it down, reminding myself that I had no right to make any claims on him.
"Now," Lizzy continued, "let’s finish up here so you can do whatever you need to do and I can get Wiggles home.”
"Okay. Thank you," I told her again.
An hour later, I was alone in the warded room. I’d considered not going through with this now that help was on the way. However, I decided I’d rather be safe than sorry. The more prepared I could be, the better.
I extinguished every candle except one that I set down in front of me. The shadow talisman—a black stone pendant I'd spent hours carving earlier today with ancient symbols wrapped with a strand of my hair—hung heavy around my neck. Its weight seemed to increase as I prepared myself for the trial.
"El espejo de las sombras," I whispered, placing a mirror I'd found on one of the shelves on the floor before me. The mirror of shadows.
I sat cross-legged in front of it, my obsidian knife in my hand, and once again made a small cut across my palm. Making a fist, I squeezed drops of my blood onto the mirror's surface. The darkness around me thickened as I closed my eyes and began to chant, calling forth my own shadows, the parts of myself I kept hidden.
"Revelar lo que está oculto. Mostrar lo que temo." Reveal what is hidden. Show what I fear.
In order to do what was necessary to find the book, I needed to remove any of my fears that could be used against me.
The blood on the mirror's surface began to ripple, then spread outward in inky tendrils. I opened my eyes, continuing my chant, as the room grew colder and colder and the shadows responded to my call.
