The Serpent's Curse Lisa Maxwell (famous ebook reader .TXT) 📖

Unease made Viola pause. “Someone could use this… this sigil,” she said, the word tasting heavy on her tongue, “and they could control a person’s magic?”

“Possibly,” Theo said, frowning. “Though I only know the theory behind these as pieces of art. I’m less familiar with their actual use.”

Hadn’t the notes Nibsy gave her weeks ago indicated something similar? Dolph had taken part of Leena’s magic and placed it into the head of his cane to use it. To control it. He’d taken a part of her to control for his own. It seemed to Viola the worst sort of betrayal, and she would not have believed it of her friend if she’d not seen the evidence written out in his own hand.

Dolph’s cane and Viola’s blade were only two examples of ordinary objects infused with power. She’d heard tales of many more, but Viola had never understood where those objects came from. Was this strange diagram what was needed to take the magic from a person? And if so, how did it work?

“What does that say?” Viola asked, pointing to the strange markings on the page near the sigil.

“I’m not sure,” Theo admitted. “I’ve never seen this particular language before. It could be some kind of cuneiform, or some kind of code? I’m not exactly a student of languages.”

“Dolph was,” Viola said, more to herself than to any of them. She couldn’t help but wonder why her old friend had chosen to inscribe this page with such strange figures when he could have used any one of his other tongues. Unless he didn’t want anyone else to be able to read what he wrote.

Perhaps Dolph had known about the coming betrayal, but the question remained: What, exactly, had Dolph Saunders been trying to hide about this image? And why had he felt the need to hide it so thoroughly?

They would never know, Viola realized. Dolph was gone, and with him the answers to this puzzle.

“There are more notes on the back,” Theo said. “It seems as though someone—possibly your friend—had the same idea. There are some notes here about the plan for an experiment, but… the next page seems to be missing.” He flipped the page over to show Viola the place where one or more pages had been torn from the binding of the notebook.

“Sounds like nothing but a bunch of trouble, if you ask me,” Cela said. “Whoever wants to go stirring up demons is nothing but a fool. Some things aren’t meant to be messed with.” She took her mug of coffee to the sink, done with the conversation.

Viola, though, could not take her eyes from the place where pages were missing from the book, or from the writing on the back of the page that held the strange illustration. Familiar writing, and this was in English. She took a piece of paper that she’d tucked for safety in Libitina’s sheath and slowly, carefully unfolded it. On the surface was Dolph’s hand, clear as day, describing what he’d done to Leena, or at least describing the aftermath of his efforts.

It was the same size—the same type of paper—and when she held it up to examine it, Theo’s brows drew together.

“Nibsy gave this to me,” she told him, answering his unspoken question. “Before the gala. He wanted to show me proof that Dolph wasn’t who I believed him to be. He wanted to turn me against him.”

A movement in the doorway drew Viola’s attention.

Jianyu was standing there, a frown on his narrow face. “That is what Nibsy Lorcan wanted from everyone.”

A DEVIL’S BARGAIN

1902—New York

Cela turned at the sound of Jianyu’s voice to find him standing in the doorway, looking nearly like himself, if only a little thinner. She stepped toward him immediately, almost reflexively, but then she stopped herself. Suddenly she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to go to him. She’d been taking care of him for days now, but Jianyu hadn’t exactly had a choice about it. He hadn’t been in any position to accept or reject her help.

Now he moved into the kitchen slowly, but he was holding himself upright in a way that had Cela hesitating. As much as Cela didn’t want to admit it, maybe Viola had been right to stop her from going up to him a few minutes before—it was clear he needed this moment. It was there in his eyes, the quiet satisfaction—the relief—he must have felt in no longer being unable. This wasn’t the same man Cela had tended to in the bed upstairs, but the Jianyu she had known from before. The one who had thrown himself in front of a knife to save her life. The one who had pulled a blade from his own shoulder without so much as wincing at the pain of it.

“Where is Abel?” Jianyu asked, taking a seat next to Theo Barclay at the table.

“He’s out with his friend Joshua, working on some project or another for the union they’re trying to get established,” Cela told him. “He should be arriving anytime now, and he’ll be glad to see that you’re up and about.”

Jianyu’s shoulders relaxed a little as Cela placed a mug of the coffee she’d made in front of him. When he hesitated, staring down at the dark liquid, Cela realized that she didn’t know if Jianyu even liked coffee.

She started to reach for the mug. “I could boil some water for tea—”

He put his hand on her arm to stop her. “Thank you.” For a long moment they just kind of looked at each other.

It felt like his thank-you was for more than the coffee. He didn’t say anything, but Cela felt it nonetheless. Thank you for not leaving me. Thank you for caring for me. Thank you… It was all there.

Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she was spinning stories in her head.

Jianyu’s hand was larger than she remembered it being—he was larger and more solid than she’d remembered him being as