Book of Love (21 page)

I saw Max’s jaw tighten, his fists clenched
at his sides.

Gregory’s hand lowered, and he threw the
knife onto the table with a loud clank. Food flung from the blade,
and I was quick to dodge a bit of potato. “I guess I’ll take my
dinner in the other room then, if no one minds?” Gregory snatched
his plate from the table as he turned, leaving the room without
another word or explanation said.

Max sat frozen for a moment before sitting
once more, placing his napkin back in his lap. I said nothing,
feeling the awkward displacement of family drama, and then also my
own anxieties because of my dreams.

Erik wiped his mouth.
“Please excuse my…
grandson.

He’s—”

“
Erik.”
Max’s voice was cold,
silencing his grandfather. His face terrified me, but as he caught
my eye, the anger faded. “Sorry, Jane. Please excuse my brother. He
had a bad day at school, I’m afraid.”

I swallowed, hoping my voice wouldn’t crack.
“He goes to Glenwood High?” I also knew this, but begged for
something to disprove the fact that he really was in my dream.

Max nodded, sipping a glass of water. “He
does.”

I exhaled, hoping that perhaps I’d seen him
after all, but then forgot. Maybe that was why I’d seen him in my
dreams, so maybe I wasn’t as crazy as I suspected.

“
We have a lot of rough
family history,” he added.

Erik nodded in agreement.

“
Things here get tough with
three men under one roof.” Max was calmer now.

I took a bite of food, chewing delicately as
the clocks still ticked. I swallowed, finding it hard to eat. “I
understand. My house is full of three women. Things get tough
there, too.” I raised my brows. “You saw how it is, Max.”

He laughed. “I did. It does remind me of our
home here.”

Erik cleared his throat. “So, Jane. My
grandson says you’re interested in history?” Erik moved on to
something more appealing, and I tried to forget about Gregory.

“
I am.” I pushed food
around my plate.

“
Well, what would you like
to know?” He was more than obliging, and the change of subject was
a much needed improvement.

The fork in my hand suddenly felt lighter.
“I know that you focus on the mythological and magickal past. Is it
difficult to back your findings? I’ve read through all your
writing, but you never mention how it is that you know for certain
that these things exist.”

Erik slowly chewed, his
knife scraping across the plate. “Most often, people accuse me of
making up lies. No one wants to believe what I
know.”

His answer skirted around
my question. “So, when you say what you
know,
you mean that you’ve seen
these things first hand?”

Erik pushed his lips out in thought.
“Perhaps I have.”

I gave up on that question. “How is that
some people come to posses magick? You don’t mention that, either.
You mention artifacts, and already existing beings, but no way of
knowing how it could be passed on. Do you believe that magick is
hereditary?”

He placed his fork on the edge of his plate,
dropping his hands into his lap and leaning back in the wheelchair.
“There are three kinds of magick: hereditary, learned, and Sheol.
But what you need to understand is that it’s all supernatural, or
Heavenly. You see, long ago, a woman named Pandora—”

I interrupted him.
“Yes,
the Greek goddess
that was sent to Earth with a jar of evils. She opened it out of
weakness and curiosity, releasing evil among the world. In other
words, she released magick.”

Erik grinned, impressed by my knowledge.
“Yes, exactly. It’s Heaven’s magick on Earth, so you can see the
controversy.”

I nodded gravely.

“
But as I was saying,
hereditary is rather rare, but the learned magick is an art that
can be passed through generations. Learned magick is magick that
almost anyone can do, as long as you’ve been touched by the gift.
The problem is, no one realizes they can, and there are a lack of
texts to teach it. Hereditary magic is a deeper, stronger form. It
includes shape shifters, mind readers, and sorcerers that naturally
carry the gift without any magickal training at all, and they can
pass it to their offspring.”

He took a bite of food, but then
continued.

“
The kind of magick that
one is born into is much stronger than the kind that can be
learned, and far more impulsive.” Erik was glancing toward Max.
“And then there are some forms of magick that happen somewhere
between learned and hereditary, perhaps a result of a traumatic
event, or brush with death, or death itself. This is called Sheol
magick.

“
Sheol?” I
asked.

“
It’s the Hebrew word for
Hades, or Hell, but this does not mean that those with it are
devilish, or dammed—it’s more subjective than that. This kind of
magick is very volatile, a brush with the divine world that leaves
a lasting mark. Because of this, beings find themselves in the
world of Sheol—”

“
Hell?”
I blurted,
horrified.

Erik laughed. “No. It’s
the
in-between
.
It’s a place we go to be judged so to speak, the place we go when
we have unfinished business.”

I listened to his story as
the hairs on my arms stood on end.
Sheol.
I’d never heard the term used
before today. Nowhere in his grandfather’s texts had Erik ever
mentioned it. “I never knew it was so extensive! But tell me, Erik.
The Sheol magick, have you ever known someone inflicted by it?” I
pressed.

Erik smirked to himself. “I know you are an
open minded girl. I can see it in your eyes.” There was a look on
his face I couldn’t quite place. “I have seen it before.”

I hung on his words, noticing the gravity in
his tone.

“
Sheol magick occurs
because the soul was supposed to die, but was either spared or
unwilling to leave this realm. You believe in angels, don’t
you?”

I bit my lip. “I suppose I do.” I had to
believe because I had no choice. I knew what I saw the day my
father died. I saw the shadowed beings, and the objects hanging
from their backs. They were not human.

“
Angels
posses a form of Sheol magic—a very
rare
form. So rare, that perhaps
there are only a handful of these beings in existence. Angels are
souls that have in fact died, but refuse to leave. They are tied to
this realm by unfinished business. Until they unlock what it is
that binds them here, they cannot go on. They are stuck in Sheol.
It is interesting to find that angels are the only beings that can
actually spare a soul from death, being that they seem ill-fit to
make such decisions. This is why, in the angel world, it is
typically frowned upon to spare a soul, and angels like to follow
the rules. But every so often an exception comes along, and the
angel is left to decide. If the angel chooses to save the soul
before them, stating a valid reason, they are then bound to that
human and become their guardians until their natural death.” He
scanned my eyes as they glimmered. “You may be familiar with the
term
guardian angels.”

I nodded.

Erik smiled. “There are many types of
angels, my dear. But the guardians are by far the fiercest, but
also the sweetest.”

I thought about the foreseen death I’d seen
when I shook Erik’s hand earlier. Erik was lying in bed very still,
but then Max was there beside him, like a guardian. Never had I
seen another being other than me in a foreseen death, but where Max
was consistently alive within in his own omen, it somehow seemed
acceptable.

“
What
about those they
do
save? What becomes of them?”

Erik grinned to himself.
“They are also Sheol, but of an opposite form. These special, also
rare beings are tied to Sheol because they
did not
die, though they should
have.”

I swallowed hard.
I
was supposed to die.
My life here is a lie.

Erik folded his hands on the table. “What
you need to understand is that there was a time when magick was
more prevalent on Earth, almost trendy. People inflicted with these
talents should not feel ashamed. It saddens me to see that magick
has become as big of a myth as Santa Claus.”

“
But why?” My gaze was
locked on his. For a long time I’d dreamed of a place where I could
belong, a place where other people like me could coexist in an open
environment.

“
It’s controversial, my
dear, as I pointed out before. People with magick understand that
in order to protect the human race, it is safer to remain
anonymous. Otherwise, the social balance of this world will
topple.”

“
Why
doesn’t magick take over and control the world? Like
a
Heaven-on-Earth?”

Erik laughed at my
question as though it were obvious. “Certain magickal beings know
what kind of destruction that could cause, because there is also
the possibility of
Hell-on-Earth.
Within the magical world, there are the bad and
the good—those that cohabitate with the human race, and those that
would rather eradicate them. A long time ago, dark magick tried to
take over, but was quickly squashed. It was then that it all seemed
to disappear, or go into hiding.”

I tilted my head. “So,
it’s sort of a
war.”

“
Exactly.” Erik nodded
once, telling me I’d reached a concluding point.

Max put his fork down, and the clang of it
broke my attention away from Erik. His food was pushed around the
plate, but barely eaten. His eyes met mine, and I was reminded of
his presence beside me. “Are you done?” he asked.

My hunger was completely gone. “Yes.” The
things Erik had told me where things I’d desperately wanted to
know.

Max looked to his grandfather and then
stood, placing his napkin on the plate before him. He offered me
his hand. I took it, and he lifted me from my chair with little
effort. “Erik, please excuse us.”

Erik nodded and smiled. “Of course! Don’t
let this crazy old man hold you back! My tall tales are a bore to
most, I’m afraid.”

I giggled. “Oh, no, Erik. I very much
appreciated you taking the time. I very much enjoyed the
opportunity to speak with you.”

“
I’m sure you did, my
dear.” He bowed lightly in his chair.

Max gave him a polite partial bow in return.
They were so formal!

“
Br
—Grandfather, have a good
night.” Max said his good-byes and turned.

He gently tugged my hand and I followed his
lead.

So there was hope for my
abilities after all. I had
Sheol
magick.

Emily:

“
Well,
when did she say she would be
back?”
I was yelling at my mother as
I paced the room.

She eyed Wes as he sat on the nearby couch,
his growing body causing the cushion to sink dangerously low.

My mother put her hands up, trying to calm
me. “Emily, I hardly think that you should—”

“
That I
should
what,
Mother?” I knew what she was going to say. How was it that
she could drag my own misfit past into this? I understand that I’d
been a horrible daughter, but never were my actions
life-threatening as she assumed at this moment.

“
Just calm down, Em. Jane’s
with that nice Max Gordon kid.” She had a dreamy look on her face
as she shrugged, oblivious to the possible danger. “He seems very
nice, and polite.” She continued to eye Wes, discomfited by my
embarrassing display of anger.

I rolled my eyes. If she
only knew how dangerous Max was, or at least how dangerous I
supposed
he was. I
grumbled, storming toward Wes and grabbing his arm. “Wes, come on.”
I yanked him off the couch, finding his weight was close to
impossible to budge.

My mother exhaled, putting the moment behind
her. “Where are you guys going?”

For the first time she didn’t seem
concerned, but simply curious. It felt strange to hear her treat me
that way, and I knew it was because I was with Wes. She worshiped
the ground Wes walked on, figuring he could do no wrong.

I held his hand longer
than I should. My mother’s hawk-like eyes began to put the pieces
together as she analyzed the nature of our relationship. Her gaze
narrowed. “Are you two
dat—”

“
No,
Mother.” I cut her off,
leaning my weight on one foot and dropping Wes’s hand like it were
a hot potato. She was analyzing my face now, noticing the change in
my makeup. I grumbled and turned away from her, marching toward the
door. Wes followed, and before she could say another word, we were
gone.

Max:

Jane followed me down the hall, thinking
about the things Erik had told her. I rubbed my hands together,
turning into the library. I heard her gasp as we entered.

“
Look at all these books!”
She exclaimed.

I turned. “Yes, we have a lot.”

“
Are any of these magick
books? Like your grandfather talked about?” Jane walked to a nearby
shelf, running her hands lovingly over the spines.