“If you’re planning on freeing her, what will happen to me when George finds out?”
She’s not as dim as I thought. “Bring the bourbon, and wait outside by the river. We’ll need to make a fast escape if we’re going to live.” He edged open the door and tiptoed into a narrow hall, the dark wood dimly lit by lanterns. He whispered a spell, and felt the aura ripple over his skin, cloaking him with invisibility, silencing his footfalls. Turning into a narrow stairwell, he crept up the steps.
He ran a finger along the dark wainscoting. Amauberge’s raspy breaths trembled through the wood. She’s waiting for me. The ancient creature must smell him approaching. The aura created by his spell had piqued her senses.
Tall candles in leafy sconces lit the arched hallway, dripping green wax. Up here, the portraits were of gnarled trees.
At the end of the hall, he pushed open a door into a candlelit room, and the succubus gasped in anticipation. She reclined on a white bedspread. Manacles made from golden light bound her hands over her head, securing her to wooden bedposts, and the iron chain around her neck stopped her from ripping herself free. Jack whispered a spell to lift his invisibility.
At the sight of him, Amauberge licked her lips. “Jack. So glad you’re here. I’ve just about run out of ceiling tiles to count.”
He sat on the edge of her bed. “That little thing you stole from me.”
“Oh. That again. Say, is that an athame in your pocket, or—”
“Just happy to see you. But I do believe you know more than you’ve let on.”
“So what if I do. Why would I give it over to you?”
“You’ve really only got two options. You can tell me what you know, and I’ll take that iron off your neck. Or you can stay here as George’s pet, listening to his story about the time he ate a leather shoe in Jamestown. He really enjoys that one, and eternity is a very long time.”
Her lip curled, and a low growl escaped her. “You can’t be that cruel.”
“Tell me what you know, and I’ll do what I can to free you.”
“You’re strong now. I want to feed.”
“First, tell me what you know. Then I’ll rip that iron off your throat, and you can drink up all of my misery. I think you’ll find it even richer than the last time.”
“It’s really quite an interesting history.”
He ran a finger up her leg. “Tell me.”
She cocked her head. “Why do you want it so badly? Is it that you’re terrified of what happens after death, or that you want a new life?”
“Maybe a little of both.”
“And this new life of yours. Will it be with Munroe, or will you control Fiona’s mind to believe that she loves you?”
“I’m not like George Percy,” he snapped. “I won’t keep a wife as a prisoner.”
“If you set me free, George won’t like it.”
“That’s a sacrifice I’m prepared to make.” He tried to steady the irritation in his voice.
“How do I know you’ll keep your bargain? Once I tell you where the spell is, I won’t have much leverage.”
“A risk you have to take.”
“Swear on the memory of Elizabeth.”
It was unnerving how much the hag knew of his secrets. “Very well. I swear on the memory of Elizabeth.”
She closed her eyes, sighing. “The Voynich tells us the relic’s history.”
Excitement bloomed in him. “And what is it?”
“The Templars found it in Jerusalem, and they brought it for safekeeping to the Cathars—”
He clenched his fists. “Not a thousand years ago. Where is it now?”
She opened her eyes to glare at him. “Fine. The Guardians look after it. You may know them as the Picaroons. Dagon’s men.”
“On the Atlantic?”
“On the Proserpine. Tradition has it that the Guardians’ captain protects it. Unless things have changed in the past five centuries, which is entirely possible.”
Wild energy rippled through him. “And what exactly is it?”
“A finger bone. Thousands of years ago, one of the celestial gods visited earth in a human body. She was the goddess who created the material world, and the finger belonged to her human form.”
“And what do I do with it?”
“If you consume it, you can cleanse yourself of your curse. You will live out your life as an ordinary human, free from the curse of the afterlife. Your powers will remain. Whether or not you want to eat people and live forever is up to you.”
His chest tightened. “You mean I can’t rewrite the world’s spell, as the creator god did? I can’t destroy the seven hells?”
“Do you honestly think I’d be telling you about the relic if it gave you that much power? Gods’ blood. I shudder to think what sort of world your twisted mind would create.”
He swallowed hard. Now he knew why Nyxobas wasn’t even interested. And yet, there was no reason for him to feel this bitter disappointment. He’d found a way out of his death sentence. He just couldn’t make up for the lives he’d taken.