Page 147

With a sigh, I lock my phone before pulling on my uniform and accessorizing with a large pair of black sunglasses to shield my eyes from the devilish sun. Connor wanders into my room and laughs when he sees me. “You look adorable.”

Grumbling a thank you, I continue to plait my hair into two French braids, making sure they aren’t too tight but will keep my hair out of my face. Connor comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “I know. I’m the worst.”

I turn in his arms and wrap my arms around his neck. I gaze up at him and ask for something I have never asked for before. It’s something I never in my life thought I would ask for. I tunnel my fingers into his hair and say, “Tell me you love me.” There is something about this moment. Something about thevulnerability I feel that makes me need to hear the words from him. Connor and Alice are the only people I ever need to hear it from.

Connor smiles, something like pride shining in his eyes. It’s not because he’s feeling arrogant that he’s tamed the beast that is me, but because he knows I genuinely need to hear it. Somehow, he knows Ibelievehim when he says it. “I love you.” The words are so sweet and sincere that I can’t help but brush my lips over his. At this moment, it finally clicks. Connor is my peace. When I asked the Almighty if I would ever find peace, she told me I would, and here it is right in front of me.

Connor pulls back after a moment and turns, crouching to offer me his back.

I pat his shoulder as I walk past him. “Not today, big guy. Motion sickness.”

Connor laughs and catches up to me, sliding his hand into mine.

Connor walks with me all the way to the door of my first class. I’ve not told him about my meeting with the headmaster because I know he’ll ask about it, and I don’t want to lie to him. I’m pretty sure it’s about the murders, and I’m still committed to Connor not knowing anything more about it, not until I know more. He’s only just lost that haunted look.

Connor kisses me and then heads to his own class. When he turns the corner, I hurry to the headmaster’s office. I stand and stare at the door for a long moment before knocking, the same nervous energy filling me. I always feel like a kid about to get a telling-off when I’m preparing to speak to the headmaster.

“Enter,” he calls, his deep voice rumbling through the door.

I step into his office, and he looks up at me over his glasses, the scent of allspice and oak surrounding me. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him wear glasses before. Somehow, it makes him look even more intelligent and maybe a little more approachable.

“Miss Tuatha De Daanan, thank you for taking the time to see me.”

I nod, stepping further into his office. I look away. “How can I?—”

He tsks. “What did I say last time, Miss Tuatha De Daanan? About when you speak to me?”

I clear my throat and lift my eyes to meet his silver ones.

“I have something to give you,” he says. He waves his hand, and a heavy-looking book lands on his desk.

Intrigued, I move closer. “It looks like a grimoire,” I whisper, mostly to myself. The cover is intricate, well-loved, and perfectly worn, yet still ornate. From this close, you can tell it’s a powerful book, but it wards off inquisitive eyes from a distance. I’d read a little about them, but they’re not something there is much literature on.

“That’s because it is. It is my personal grimoire.”

I try not to gape in surprise. Usually, sorcerers don’t even admit to having grimoires. They are that precious. That he is planning to lend this to me?—

“You are wondering why I am letting you borrow it,” he says. It’s not a question. It’s as if he’s plucked my thoughts straight from my mind. I nod in confirmation.

“Please, sit.”

I hesitate before sitting on the very edge of one of the two chairs opposite him. He removes his glasses, placing them on top of the book he was reviewing.

“Grimoires are a source of information, but they are also a source of power. Now, I’m guessing from the look on your face when I told you that the grimoire belongs to me, that you understand their importance to my kind.”

I nod.

“This was my very first grimoire. It has notes about Nimue, things I jotted down from the information I was able to extractfrom my father and other fae that he knew. It’s not much, but the mark is mentioned. Maybe you can make more sense of it than I can.” He lays his hand over the book. “It is also full of runes, runic circles, and dangerous magic. It is not something to be handed off without thought.” His eyes lock on mine. “I sense whatever dared to breach my school and harm my student is far from done. You’ll need to prepare yourself, Miss Tuatha De Daanan. I am not a being that one crosses unless the goal is worth the cost. You must be worth a cost that even the devil hesitates to pay.”

He sits back in his chair and puts his glasses back on, returning his attention to the book he was reading when I came in. Not only had he just given me a wealth of knowledge beyond imagining, but he is potentially the most powerful sorcerer in existence. That was widely suspected, but now I had confirmation. The information contained within the grimoire is not simply what is written in the pages, but the words are imbued with his power, ready to be unlocked.

Carefully, I stand up and pick up the tome. My hands tremble, reacting to the power radiating from the book. It feels odd to stow it in my bag, but I know I can’t just carry it around for all to see, so I carefully tuck it in amongst my other books.

I glance at the headmaster, who is deep in concentration, and see myself out.

59

Summer