After the book’s sixth chapter, I settled on the floor, lying on my stomach as I leafed through page after page. I skipped past the witch trials, covering the Middle Ages, Early Modern Europe, and the Modern Era. They’d taught us about all that in high school, and I’d studied even more extensively in college. The eighth chapter grabbed my attention: Spirit Elementals—The Genetic Legacy of Witches.
I read a few pages, then stood, finally having found something of use. Apparently, there was more to ancestral magic than the ‘halving’ rule.
I held the open book in the crook of my arm. “I got something.”
Charles and Adrian set their books aside and focused on me.
“This Chapter on Genetic Legacy says the descendants of spirit elementals are at times granted their ancestor’s magic on loan. It can manifest in a small burst of power or may develop over time, though most descendants are unaware of their potential.”
Adrian gave me an empty look and tossed his dreadlocks over his shoulder. “What does it mean?”
“It means I might be able to borrow my ancestor’s powers.”
Adrian shook his head. “I mean, how does the information relate to you?”
“Oh, right.” I brought the book over to Charles and Adrian, flipped to the front, and pointed to Elizabeth’s name. “That ancestor of mine? Well, she was a spirit elemental. Which makes me—”
“The descendant of a witch,” Charles finished. He leaned back into the sofa, interlocking his fingers behind his head. He stared at the ceiling and pressed his lips together. Finally, his gaze shifted back. “So you have the potential to acquire her abilities. What are they? How do you tap into them, and would you even want to?”
Did I want supernatural abilities? Not exactly. I just wanted to silence the voices in my head. But maybe learning more about my ancestor’s powers would help me protect myself from the Cruor, should we ever cross paths again. It might even mean being able to protect Charles if he embarked on the journey to relinquish his Cruor side and grow old with me.
I held the book up. “Adrian—do you have more like this?”
“What do you have in mind, and do you truly suppose the information would make any difference?”
I didn’t ruffle at the condescending edge to his voice. I sensed Adrian never took things like ‘feelings’ into account. He just wanted to find solutions and implement them.
After stacking the book on the coffee table pile, I walked to the window. Light from streetlamps glinted off the snow floating to the streets. The old man across the road, wearing a thick plaid coat, frigidly shoveled snow from his driveway. He paused a moment, staring over at me, but I didn’t look away. Everyone stared at me.
I let out a deep breath. “Scrying would be a good start and can also be done with fire, which might be best since I’m a fire sign.”
I kept my back to them, hoping to conceal any evidence on my face that I was hiding something. Yes, I wanted to protect myself. But I also wanted to end my family’s curse. “And might you have anything on the effects of magic on the mind?”
Those words having been spoken, I turned to face them. No one flinched. My request had been vague enough. Then again, what were the chances Adrian would bring me a book about hearing voices?
Adrian nodded. “I will check my collection and drop anything relevant off here.”
“Wonderful.” I smiled over at him. “Where do you get these books anyway?”
“The library.”
I lifted another book from the table and fanned the pages. “I would have noticed something like this at the library.”
“Different library, Miss Sophia,” he said in his usual refined articulation, a bit of friendliness hidden beneath his stuffy conventions.
“So this library just gave you these books?” I asked, smirking.
“I worked there for a time. When they sought to have some books destroyed, I offered my services.” He grinned mischievously. “I, of course, did nothing of the sort. I realized the Maltorim only sought to hide the truth behind their efforts to eliminate the dual-natured, thus I hid the books instead.”
I hated this mysterious Maltorim and that there wasn’t something more we could do to stop them. But while I might never save all the dual-breeds, I might be able to harness enough magic to protect Charles and myself.
“Please, bring more books if you can.”
“I will,” Adrian promised.
As I watched him leave, the young woman I’d seen in the street earlier reappeared outside the window, this time standing in Charles’ yard. The breeze swayed the leaves in the trees behind her, but her hair and nightgown were unmoving. The more she closed in with her gaze fixed on me, the more I hoped answers would quickly come.
Chapter 15
ON THE MORNING OF YULE, I woke with a strong sense of purpose. I’d spent the last couple of weeks reviewing some books Adrian had dropped off. I hadn’t found out anything more about my heritage or curse, but I had found out how to help Charles become a pure Strigoi.