Page 138 of This Blood that Bonds Us

“You really piss me off. You know that?”

“You’ve definitely told me that before, I’m pretty sure.”

He shook his head and stared out the window to a charred lawn. “You shouldn’t have come. And Pres, why the fuck is he here?”

There was a desperation in his voice, like he was pleading with me to give him a good solid answer beyond the one I had.

“He ran away. He came here for you . . . to be with you.”

“Fuck.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes and rested his head in his hands.

I’d seen him tired before, but not like this. The castle had been their reality for months. While I’d rested every night in safety with my head on a pillow, what had Zach and Luke done? I’d thought about it every day, but suddenly, I wanted to know even more. Something told me they weren’t allowed the same safety I had. The walls weren’t warm and inviting. Everything was cold like my brother’s expression when he turned to face me again.

“I’m sorry it took so long. But I’m here now and I’m not leaving without you.”

“No one ever leaves this place.”

This time I smiled. “You underestimate me.”

He shook his head. “Stay here. Do. Not. Leave.”

“Where am I going to go?”

“I know you. I swear if I come back and you’re gone—”

“I’ll stay.” I looked up at the tall ceilings of the library. “Seems cool in here anyway.”

Once he was gone, I moved quickly throughout the room, logging it into my memory.

The walls were white plaster, and at the far end had three glass windows that almost reached the ceilings. A chandelier with faux candles hung overhead.

I was alone in the castle, and I might not be again. I needed to use it to my advantage.

The books lining the shelves were old and worn, much like the books Kilian made us sort through. Only, this library was neater, dusty but well kept, and no books crowded the floor like the ones I’d had to dodge in Kilian’s office.

I was used to looking at old books. To the untrained eye, all the books were the same, but there were tells. Foiled lettering on the spine. Deckled edges. The most important books with texts Kilian found interesting were falling apart. Some of them were quickly scribbled notes with ink and bound like the world might crumble if the thoughts weren’t put to page in a matter of seconds.

I asked myself where I’d keep the most important books, first scaling the ladder to the second story, but most of those books were too caked with dust, left untouched and likely unimportant.

I sifted through the shelves on the lower end until one caught my eye on a bottom shelf, and the spine was black. No letteringbut not a speck of dust. When I pulled it, I stopped to feel the etching in the bottom right of the leather.

Eros.

The pages were plenty worn, like they’d been turned many times over and over. It was a diary. I could tell by the dates barely visible at the top. No year listed. Just little symbols of the moon scrawled in ink on each page. I grabbed it and brought it by the light of the window. I imagined Eros jotting down his thoughts and gazing out a window at the moon.

I flipped the pages for anything useful. Like all of Kilian’s books, it was hard to read, but I landed on a page worn above all the others.

For in death, there is also life. To rid the world of the scourge would be to die encased in ice. But to die would be at the loss of My Love. But to gain My Love is to lose one’s lifeblood. My Love will persevere evermore. But my life’s blood will die in vain.

My heartbeat was in my ears. There was that word again.Lifeblood.

Darkness cleaves on every side. Bonds forged with blood must be put to rest.

The dagger. Where is the dagger?

The end was scrawled out with rips in the paper.

It wasn’t all poems. Some of it was confusing accounts of events that mentioned no names I understood. Times with Her, mostly in Her room, then a garden. He was angry about something. Sometimes he’s scribbled at the edge of the page, and he used a lot of exclamations.