Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Come back to the table and finish your lunch—if you don’t mind,” my mom said to us. “I apologize for the scene but I’d hate to let you leave unfed.”
We all wandered back to the table, although I don’t think any of us had any appetite left. I sat down and was just beginning to pick at the lemon square my mom had put in front of me when she gave a little cry and jumped back up from her chair.
“Mom?” I looked at her in alarm. “Are you okay?”
“Yes! But I just thought of something!” she exclaimed. “Wait right here—I’ll go get it!”
She ran off upstairs while we waited and traded confused looks around the table. But before anyone could say anything, she came back down, carrying a huge, heavy book that looked like a family Bible. She blew the dust off its ornate front cover and thumped it down on the table, right beside my plate.
“There!” she said, smiling at me. “Maybe this will help.”
I opened the book and looked inside. What I saw there made my eyes grow wide.
“The Conner family Grimoire?” I exclaimed, looking up at her. “How in the world did you get this, Mom?”
“Great Aunt Zelda left it to me in her will,” my mom said, smiling brightly. “I think she did it out of spite—she knew I was the only Null in the family so she gave it to me because she didn’t want to give it to anyone who might actually get any use out of it.” She made a face. “She was a spiteful old cat!”
“And you never told Dad?” I asked, arching my eyebrows at her.
Mom shook her head.
“I was waiting for a special occasion. But somehow, it just never felt quite right to give it to him. Now I know why—I was saving it for you. There’s a whole section on curses and how to break them in there.” She thumped the book with her knuckles. “It should help you with your boyfriend’s problem.”
She smiled at Saint, who smiled hesitantly back. I think he was probably beginning to think my parents were crazy—or at least eccentric—but he seemed to like my mom all right. And thankfully, she seemed to like him as well.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said gratefully, caressing one vellum page carefully with my fingertips. I could feel the power inside the ancient book—it tingled through my veins like someone had replaced all my blood with carbonated liquid when I touched it.
“I hope it will help you,” she said, smiling at me.
“I’m sure it will,” I told her.
And I was almost positive it would.
30
SAINT
“So, do you think my parents are crazy?” Avery asked me, later on that evening when we were back at Nocturne Academy, alone in our room. We were lounging on my bed and he was lying with his head on my stomach as I played with his hair. I loved the sunshine blond color of it—so different from the black hair of my own people.
“Crazy?” I asked, frowning. “Why would I think that?”
“Oh, I don’t know…maybe all the shouting and shoving and the way my mom basically threatened to divorce my dad right in front of everybody.” He sighed. “Not that I blame her. She’s still young—maybe she can find someone else that will treat her like she deserves to be treated.”
I looked at him with a frown.
“Do you really mean that? You wish your parents to divorce?” Divorce was an alien concept to me, since once a Drake claimed his l’lorna, they bonded for life. But I could understand if Avery’s mother wanted to get away from his father—who didn’t seem too different from my own Sire, to be honest.
“No.” Avery put a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, as though trying to drive back a headache. “Of course not—nobody wants their parents to get divorced. But my poor mom—I’ve never seen him shove her before! I mean, he’s never gotten physical with either of us.”
“Perhaps we pushed him too far,” I said quietly. “There is no excuse for physical violence, of course, but some people simply cannot tolerate the idea of two males together.”
“Well, ‘intolerance’ is my father’s middle name,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry about what happened between your parents,” I offered—and I was—my heart burned for his pain. “I cannot help feeling that it is all my fault,” I told him.
“No, don’t feel like that!” Avery looked up at me earnestly. “Please, Saint—they were like that well before you came into the picture. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.” He shook his head. “My father has hated what I am all my life. I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”
“It doesn’t matter if he hates you, mi Corazon,” I murmured, carding my fingers through his hair again. “You have many who love you—including me and my Drake.”