A Demon’s Book Of Shadows (Witches & Demons #1)

18. Amon

18

Amon

Neither Krim nor Zed were going to help me track down Melrose and steal back the grimoire. Tuesday drifted by, leaving my shadows and I restless. It wasn’t until the end of the week that I wondered if I was ever going to recover it.

The boy Lucy had been tutoring said he would return to the library at the same time in a week. I thought for sure I would be able to track him down before Sunday came around. But wendigos were smart, frighteningly so. I got the feeling he knew that I was looking for him. I just hoped that he wouldn't find Melrose.

The time that passed gave me time to think about Lucy. Her stupid familiar had gotten us into this mess, and of course, he was making the excuse to go off and metamorphose. Seemed like some ridiculous form of vengeance.

Then, there was that kiss. . .

I retraced my steps, trying to distract myself from the emotions I was starting to feel. Lucy was to blame for all of this. I couldn’t allow myself to fall for her, not when I was at risk of having the Bone Threader devour my missing shadow .

Walking along the sidewalk, I retraced my steps over and over, taking careful note of where I’d been since Krim kicked me out. I couldn’t pick up a single trace of magic from the grimoire. The book’s aura was nothing but a dying ember now.

My boot caught a groove in the pavement. Three long angular grooves connected with each other. I swallowed. The Bone Threader left his mark, and he wanted me to follow.

I padded to the street corner where the grooves tapered off, reconnecting in a straight line. I passed a few convenience stores before the smell of grease and salt permeated the air. A giant purple and pink neon sign flashed before me read: Greasy’s Diner

My heart raced as I entered the restaurant. What was I going to say to him? What might he say to me? Who knew how he would appear, or how long he would keep me waiting. Wendigos were predators, and they had a habit of playing with their prey.

I found a seat in the back of the diner. I slipped into the booth facing the entrance, wanting to keep eyes on my father’s nemesis.

A waitress sauntered over to me with a notepad and a pen in hand. “What are you having today, hon?”

I scanned the menu. All of the greasy food items made my already upset stomach queasy. “Root beer?”

She flashed a flirty grin and winked. “You got it, sweetie.”

My forearms burned as my tattoos darted across my skin. My shadows were the first to know when another demon was approaching.

A young boy walked into the diner. No adults accompanied him. I recognized him instantly as the boy Lucy had been tutoring .

When he turned his head my way, my tattoos retreated beneath my skin. From far away, his eyes appeared sunken. They flashed red as he spotted me.

I chewed the inside of my cheek as he walked up to my table, plopping down in the booth across from me. “ Amon, Eugene’s son. How long did it take you to figure out my identity ?” he asked, his voice echoing inside of my head. His voice was unnaturally deep. Hearing it come from this baby-faced child made it sound even more eerie.

“ Should I move my mouth ?” he asked, red flickers of light dancing in his hollow eyes.

“ Probably. Otherwise, it will look like I’m a pedophile having a very bizarre staring contest with a child .”

“I’ll act like you’re helping me with my homework, then,” he said, his voice slightly higher out in the open. “Word has it that Lucy has a great way of helping others with her reading talents.”

A few heads turned our way as he didn't know the power of his own voice.

My fists clenched. His words were vindictive. “Why have you taken a sudden interest in Lucy? A few weeks ago, you had only been interested in me and my missing shadow.”

The Bone Threader scratched his head and glanced at the menu on the wall. “My stomach has not been feeling well. Order me a chocolate milk, and we’ll talk. It’s time we discuss the grimoire.”

“I can’t understand why you chose to disguise yourself as a kid, of all things.”

“Playing innocent is the only way I don’t scare the pants off people when I’m out in public. Besides, I always take on the identity of the souls others have lost.” He set his small hands onto the table. His fingers flexed, and I caught a glimpse of the claws beneath the bones. “My appetite is a peculiar thing. I’ve created grimoires for so long out of the bodies of demons, I sometimes forget what the magic of witches tastes like.”

I shivered. Those claws had seen many shadows. They were responsible for weaving together demon flesh, bone, and sinew into grimoires.

“Why aren’t you at your brother’s bar?” he asked, rubbing his hands over his stomach.

“He doesn’t want me anywhere near his place, in case you decided to show up.”

An earthy chuckle escaped him. “That’s unfortunate. It seems as though your family affairs with the shadow archives have begun to crumble.”

The waitress returned and set my root beer in front of me along with a papered straw.

“He will have chocolate milk,” I said.

“Sorry, we’re all out,” the waitress replied.

The Bone Threader reached for my drink and the straw. “This will do just fine.”

The waitress busied herself with another table as the Bone Threader ripped the paper off the straw. He did so methodically, as though he was peeling flesh off a bone. “I gave you a timeline to recover the grimoire, and you failed to deliver. My appetite can only be suppressed for so long, before my inner demon takes over.”

My shadows cowered, gathering around my ribcage. They were protecting my lungs and heart in case the Bone Threader decided to lash out and rip a chunk out of my flesh.

He set the strands of paper onto the table and plucked the straw into the plastic lid. “I know you want to preserve your parents’ work in the shadow archives. Your mother had a talent you inherited,” he licked his lips. “You see, I have long hungered for these talents that I refuse to bind away into a grimoire. I want to keep your mother’s magical talents for myself.”

Bile burned in my throat. “My mother’s magic is mine to carry on. It’s not for you to devour.”

He gnashed his teeth. “Devour? No. I plan to keep your mother’s magical talents for myself. I cannot wait to remove the Ravenblood name from the shadow archives forever.”

I clenched my fists. “How will you do this? There’s no way you can keep my mother’s magic alive if you kill me for it.”

“Melrose has already agreed to help me take it from you. You know how I stole something from her in her youth, something she has never been able to recover?”

My stomach knotted. “How she died?”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “Amon, I know you are not stupid. You know that when an individual dies quickly, they often forget how they depart this world. This is unfortunately what happened with Melrose.” A waitress walked by with a tray full of cheeseburgers. The Bone Threader’s nostrils flared as he scented the greasy food. “As I age, my appetite has formed around one thing that does not satisfy my hunger, no matter how much I crave it. ”

His words jostled me. I always understood a wendigo’s insatiable hunger to revolve around bewitchment. “What do you crave, other than magic?”

“Think about the souls you have been interacting with. There is something all of you have in common, including yourself. You lost your mother. Melrose lost a brother. Lucy lost her father.”

I grabbed a napkin on the table and twisted it. “Is it, death ?”

The Bone Threader’s lips puckered as he inserted the straw into his mouth. His throat bulged as he sucked my soft drink in one gulp. A belch followed.

He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “Death is the thing I crave, but it is also the one thing I cannot have. Us demons, we wield magic that embodies death. The one thing I cannot cannibalize, is myself.”

I twisted my napkin so hard, it tore. This was new information to me. “And yet you continue to devour demons to turn our shadows into grimoires?”

“I must do what I can to survive. A demon’s shadows are the one thing that is closest to death, therefore they are the most appetizing. But my hunger will never be fully satisfied. And I cannot kill you to get what I want. A wendigo is always hungry for what he cannot have. Death is an insatiable monster when paired with loneliness.”

My insides churned. Shit . I had the book in my fingertips, and Lucy Crow let it slip away. I’d run out of time. “Look, Melrose has the grimoire now, she—”

A massive belch erupted from his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, clapping his hands on his stomach. “The grimoire is currently in my belly. Why did you think I had such an upset stomach?”

My body went cold. “How did you get it?”

The Bone Threader continued to pat his belly. “Melrose fed it to me shortly after she stole it from the librarian you are currently crushing on.”

“Prove to me you have it,” I demanded, instantly regretting my request. I also hated the way he brought up Lucy like he was trying to taunt me.

He belched, and a piece of origami came flying out of his mouth. I instantly recognized it as the roses I’d seen all over town. Rose petals Zed had been finding.

I grabbed it, unfolding the gooey paper. I recognized my parent’s magical bond. “You have the book. Now, leave this town and go back to the Summoning.”

He licked his lips. “I’ve already tasted what you now want. That little maggot of Lucy’s didn’t dig up the book. I did, and I used the magic inside to create the bewitched rose petals. I know of a certain librarian who shares your mother’s passion for reading. All I had to do was get you to distract her familiar.”

I slammed my fist on the table, making the shredded pieces of paper jump. “You used the rose petals to draw Lucy’s familiar away from her so you could taste her magic?”

He grinned nastily. “I know how much you want to taste her magic as well. I know how similar you are to me. I know what a demon’s shadows can do to a witch he desires more than death itself.”

My shadows heard everything the Bone Threader said. He’d tricked me. This whole time, he was using the grimoire as a way to get closer to Lucy.

Ebony tendrils of darkness unraveled from my ribs, threading out onto my arms. I felt their cold, silky strands branching up my neck and onto my face. If I didn’t defend Lucy, my shadows would. They possessed the primal urge to defend the witch they wanted to claim as theirs.

“Fuck off. If you touch her, you die. Lucy is ours,” I growled, my voice rattling as multiples in my throat. My shadows gripped my neck, adding their possessiveness to the tone of my voice.

The Bone Threader grabbed the shredded pieces of paper and began to unfold them. “I knew you had feelings for her. Just remember that my skin is the backbone of your daddy’s archives. Don’t go shredding it like Melrose has done to your arm. My shadow isn’t like yours, Hidden One. I will devour everything I can of the Ravenblood’s family archive before I am done.”

I blinked.

The Bone Threader was gone.

The origami rose he belched up shriveled, curling into a gooey ball.

I paid for the root beer and left the diner. My breathing was so heavy, I could barely see straight. Shit . What defense did Lucy have against this monster who wanted to devour my mother’s magical talents she also possessed?