“All I’m saying is that we still need that damned codex. There must be another library on this island. Sure, I didn’t find the codex in Prescott’s office. That said, if anyone knows where else to look, it would be Harper.”
Lincoln turns the shell over in his hand. “I could charm one of the teachers.”
“You don’t like to take information from the unwilling.”
“When did I say that?”
“Two weeks ago. Before we interviewed those quasi kids for the codex.”
Lincoln sighs. “Fine. But it’s a risk. I’ll need to convince her to trust us, and that will require a more serious spell. If I cast it, the Acca patrol could detect that another thrax is nearby. We could blow our cover.”
“You’d blow it anyway by casting a charm to clear her memory. I know for a fact that has some serious magic in it.”
Lincoln reaches into his pocket, toying with the different charms there. “I don’t like revealing that thrax exist. It goes against everything we stand for.”
“She doesn’t need to know about all your people, Lincoln. Just give her enough supernatural mumbo jumbo to make her trust us enough to answer a few questions.” I step closer and grip his arm. “It’s Friday, Lincoln. We’re almost out of time.”
Lincoln stares at the ground for what feels like forever. Eventually, he nods. “And I’ll allow her to keep her memories afterward as well. We may need her help again.”
I go up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for breaking with thrax tradition here.”
“You can thank me if it works.” Lincoln takes out a key from his pocket. It’s so clever how the House of Striga makes all their charms look like regular pocket-stuff.
Lincoln steps up before Harper. “I’m going to release you now.” He lifts the key. “I need you to stay here and listen. If you scream or run, I’ll freeze you again and erase your memory.” He grips the key in his fist and clenches his fingers. It makes a crackling sound as he grinds the item in his palm. Purple dust cascades from his hand to the grass below.
Harper moves. She doesn’t scream or run, which is the good news. The bad news is that she looks terrified out of her freaking mind. “What…What did you do to me?”
Lincoln pulls out another item from his pocket. This time, it’s a small feather. “It’s not important what I did, but who I really am. I’m about to give you a great gift, Harper. I’ll give you the ability to witness you my true nature and allow you to retain the memory. This doesn’t happen very often.” He places the tiny feather between his palms and presses them together. When he pulls his hands apart, the feather is gone.
I gasp. The feather may be gone, yet now? Lincoln has wings. Beautiful, white angel wings that shimmer with silvery light. I’ve never seen anything so lovely, and I have an archangel for a father.
“Wow,” croaks Harper.
I couldn’t agree more. Of course, I knew Lincoln was part angel. The archangel Aquila is his grandmother. However, he never shows his angelic side like I display my demonic nature. If you’re from the after-realms, my tail is really hard to miss.
I open and close my mouth, trying to speak. Finally, I’m able to whisper a few words. “You’re beautiful.”
Lincoln brushes his fingers along my jawline. “As are you.”
“When were we getting to the angel wing part of our relationship? Because I think I really like this.”
“Sometime Sunday night, I think.”
So this is a post-wedding thing, showing your girl your wings or whatever. I’m about to pry for more details when I realize that Harper is almost hyperventilating. I can ask about wings later.
Harper grasps her hands by her throat. “What do you want of me, oh angel?”
Whoa. Talk about a change of attitude. I have some angelic blood in me. I wonder if I can sprout the wings from time to time. Another item to research later.
“We’re here for a magical book—a codex,” says Lincoln. “It’s supposed to be hidden in Headmaster Prescott’s library. However, we checked all over his office and couldn’t find anything.”
Harper grips her elbows and sways. “This is a lot to take in.”
Lincoln steps closer. “We need your help. Could there be another library on the island?”
Harper stares at the ground for a long minute before she mentally regroups. “The teachers say that Headmaster Prescott used to be obsessed with his books. He changed, though. All he cares about these days is some lady.”
Well. That’s not helpful in the slightest.
“So nothing else on a library?” asks Lincoln.
“I’m afraid not.”
Okay. Maybe Harper doesn’t know anything more about a library, but perhaps she could help in other areas. “What do you know about Jeeves?”
“The old guy?”
“That’s the one,” says Lincoln. “If I wanted to get in touch with him, what would I do? Are there other boats we could take to the shore?”
“No, nothing. Jeeves is the only way to reach the island.”
My shoulders slump. “That sucks.”