: Chapter 9
Jaxson
Fifteen minutes later, I double parked my truck in front of the Hall of Inquiry. I slammed my door and climbed the stairs of the massive limestone building. It was neoclassical in style with a wide columned entry and massive brass doors—a beautiful façade erected to convince everyone that everything was in order, that everything was under control. But I knew the truth. This city was run by monsters and mages and crime lords, and always one step away from the brink of destruction.
Savannah and Neve were waiting for me on the top steps, two redheads side by side. Neve’s burgundy tones made Savannah’s hair look like flowing flames, verging on orange.
It was almost impossible to take my eyes off the LaSalle woman. She wore pale blue jeans and a black moto jacket that hugged her curves in all the right places. I took in her form, my gaze lingering on her lips. Lips I had tasted before.
Something about her put me off balance. No one had ever had that effect on me.
Frustration drowned my desire the moment she spoke: “You’re late this time.”
I glared at her and turned to Neve. “Three werewolves went to sleep last night and never woke up. They’ve been hit with some sort of sleeping curse. Kahanov must be behind it, just like the attack on Savannah. Tell me you have some idea what’s going on.”
“Maybe.” Neve led us through the front doors and deep into the Hall of Inquiry.
Now that she was out of the sun, I could see that Savannah’s face was drawn, and worry dragged on her shoulders.
“Are you all right?” I asked gruffly as we crossed over a skybridge to the Archives building.
She set her jaw. “I haven’t slept, I’m five coffees into the day, and my brain is running a million miles a minute—all I can think about is how I’m going to hunt down Kahanov and skin him alive.”
My lips curled into a dark smile as a wild heat spread under my skin. This woman was resilient as all hell. My wolf approved, and so did I.
Her tired eyes widened as we pushed through the massive door of the library, which was decorated with moving carvings of scientists and scholars, myths and monsters. She opened her mouth to speak, but when she saw the library, her jaw dropped.
The Archives was much bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside. A domed roof soared over a vast cylindrical chamber lined with books.
Savannah leaned over the balcony railing and looked down into the room below, a deep pit with imps flying in and out carrying books. “Belmont’s library was the size of a Taco Bell and only open on Wednesdays and Thursdays and every other weekend.”
Neve opened her mouth and then snapped it shut.
We followed her to a back room with a large leatherbound book spread wide on the table. The pages were yellow, and the thing looked like it had been printed in the nineteenth century.
Neve gestured to Savannah’s drawing of the monster that was on the nearby table. “I found a description of the demon that attacked you last night in Carter’s Bestiary of Strange and Infernal Abominations.”
She flipped the pages to a bookmark and held the book open wide, revealing a delicate ink sketch of a gangly, six-legged creature with a flytrap head and four mothlike wings. Its jaws were open and dripping, and a long snakelike tongue lolled out. It matched Savannah’s drawing almost exactly.
Savannah looked away. “That’s it.”
I nodded, recalling the acrid taste of its blood when I tore its throat out.
A subtle quake shook Savannah’s body, and I could sense her revulsion and fear. A jolt of protectiveness pushed me toward her, but I stopped short and tightened my fists. She’d already chosen who she wanted protection from. Who she trusted. And it wasn’t me.
Neve gave Savannah a warm smile. “With the sketch you sent me, the monster wasn’t hard to track down.”
“What did you learn about it?”
“It’s a noctith demon. Fun fact: they breathe poison gas that puts people to sleep. They’re classified as a third order demon, though technically, they’re not really demons…more of a beast native to the Dreamlands.”
“What are the Dreamlands?” Savannah asked, her voice laced with wonder.
“A realm of dreams, sort of like one of the fae realms but different. Most of the information is myth and anecdote. The best source is a book written by a witch, The Grimoire of Nightmares. But when I went to look for it in the Archive of Bound Tomes, it was gone. Stolen.”
I started to open my mouth, but Savannah beat me to the punch. “The Archive of Bound Tomes?”
Neve nodded. “It’s the section of our collections where they chain down particularly malicious and deviant books. Like a prison for knowledge.”
A confused expression crossed Savannah’s face. “Chain down deviant books? I don’t think I…”
Neve smiled and closed the leatherbound tome. “Books of magic can be tricky things. If you cram enough spells and secrets and forbidden knowledge together in one place, sometimes the book will…well, sort of wake up and take on a personality of its own.”
“But it was stolen?” Savannah shot me an anxious look. “Was it Kahanov?”
“The moment I discovered the book was missing, I called security and had them do a facial recognition search for Kahanov between now and the day he escaped. They got a hit on the cameras in the Archives.”
She held out her phone and hit play on a recording. The video feed showed the Archives in complete disarray. Open books were scattered across every available surface, and people were rushing everywhere.
“When was this?” I asked, certain it had to be when the Archives was hit.
“The day he escaped. This place was flooded at the same time the marid attacked Bentham Prison. It was a distraction. Four hours later, Kahanov showed up.”
A few seconds into the clip, a bright box appeared on the screen, isolating a figure who was moving warily through the shadows. For one second, he glanced up, and the video paused.
“That’s him?” Savannah asked, a soft tremor in her voice. She’d never seen his face. Nor had I, but I clenched my fists and burned the image into my mind. Got you, asshole.
“Yes,” Neve said quietly. “That’s Kahanov. I can send you other pictures.”
Savannah swallowed hard and nodded.
Neve slipped her phone into her pocket. “He went directly to the Bound Tomes and freed the grimoire. Then he vanished with a transport charm. He knew exactly where he was going…I wonder if the book called to him, somehow.”
“That’s creepy,” Savannah said absently. “What powers does it give him? Other than summoning these noctith demons?”
Worry clouded the sky blue of Neve’s eyes. “I don’t know. I’ve gone through the archivist’s notes on the thing. It’s a guide to the monsters and realms of the Dreamlands. It promises, of course, unimaginable powers to those that learn its secrets and sleep with their head upon the book.”
My pulse accelerated. “Could he use it to invade the dreams of others? To stop my wolves from waking?”
Neve nodded. “According to the notes, yes. It can grant the power to infiltrate and shape the dreams of others. Possibly more.”
“So he hacked into my dreams?” Savannah asked.
“And into those of my wolves. How do we wake them?”
There was a long silence, and Neve frowned. “I’m sorry, Jaxson, I don’t know—but that doesn’t mean the information isn’t out there. I’ll keep digging in the Archives.”
Savannah looked between us expectantly, like there had to be more that could be done. “I’m not sitting around while people read books. What can we do?”
Neve’s expression darkened, and a slight breeze rose around us. “Find him, and don’t sleep until you bring him down.”
“Right.” Savannah swallowed. “Simple as that.”
The scent of her despair tore at me, and I knew she needed something to cling to. And for no conceivable reason, I wanted that to be me.
I stepped close, and she shivered as I let my alpha presence surround her. “We’ve learned quite a bit. Kahanov wants to toy with us through dreams and have his minions do the dirty work. He’s never attacked you himself. What does that suggest?”
Savannah tilted her head and gazed up at me. “He’s afraid of direct confrontation?”
“Exactly. He’s weak or afraid we might best him in a fight. We need to hunt him down. Thanks to Amal, we know he’s in Italy and on the move. That tells me that he needs something beyond the grimoire. We just need to get to it first.”
“How?”
“We find the Viper and see what she knows.” I nodded subtly to Neve. “I asked an old ally with deep connections to look into it. My guess is we’ll know where the little snake is in less than twenty-four hours. Until then, Neve looks for a way to break the sleeping curse, and we rack our brains for every other possible clue we’ve overlooked.”
I poured my alpha presence into Savannah and Neve, drowning their doubts with a torrent of strength and conviction.
If only I could drown my own.