Book of Love (22 page)

“
Some are,” I shrugged, not
knowing which ones were magick anymore. To me, books about magick
were common place at this point.

“
Where did he find
them?”

“
Here and there over time.
Some he found in this house, much like the ring, and some he found
elsewhere.”

“
Did you have magick in
your family?”

I didn’t know what to say.
Erik had been adopted into the alchemist’s magickal world, but my
real family did not have magick until it came to my brothers and
me. Our death, or our
near
death, left us all stuck in the world of Sheol.
“Yeah, in the past. But it wasn’t hereditary.” I figured that was
vague enough that it wasn’t a lie.

She saw the cello then, and forgot about the
books in their entirety. I was relieved to find we were on to a new
subject. Her steps floated across the room and she sat on the bench
beside it. I followed her, lifting the cello off the stand and
handing it to her. She traced her fingers across the strings,
snugging it between her knees.

“
Do you play?” I asked. Of
course I knew that she did because of her thoughts in the car on
the way here, but I tried to stick to social conventions and
pretend I didn’t know what she was thinking.

“
A little.” She was being
modest.

I grinned to myself, leaning against the
nearby wall. “Play something.”

Jane’s smile faded. “Oh,” she shook her
head, her eyes wide. “No. No, I couldn’t.”

“
Come on,” I pressed,
narrowing my eyes.

She placed the cello back
on the stand, folding her hands into her lap. “I
can’t
, Max.” She looked
up at me, searching my eyes. “I should have specified. I
used
to play, but not
anymore.”

“
You loved it, didn’t you?”
It was more of a statement to me than a question.

Her face grew pink. “I did.”

“
Then why did you stop?” I
pressed her, pushing the memories of her father to the
surface.

She didn’t answer for a long while as she
ran her hand back and forth across her knee. “My mother used to
play, until my father died. Then she stopped. I missed the music,
so I taught myself. My mother doesn’t know about it, but it’s my
way of remembering my father, and finding a sense of peace.”

I knelt toward Jane, moving behind her. I
reached for the cello, my chin hovering just above her shoulder and
close to her ear. I could feel her resentment toward my actions. I
ran my hand slowly down her leg, placing the cello between her
knees. I placed one hand on the neck, the other now grasping the
bow. “My parents used to play all the time.”

She relaxed into my arms as they wrapped
around her, my cheek against her ear as I whispered.

“
They loved to play, but
what I learned…” the pressure on the bow in my hand transferred to
the strings. I played a long note, the sound of it echoing
throughout the room, “…was that what once hurt, eventually helped
me to heal.” I moved my fingers along the strings of the neck,
playing a few more notes. It was her father’s song, but I played it
so slow, that she didn’t recognize the melody.

I saw her hand lift to mine, taking control
of the bow and neck as she drew the threads across the strings. Her
note mirrored mine. My hands fell as I stopped playing. She played
another note, and then another. I let her song gain momentum as I
remained behind her, within her world of life. A smile crept across
her face, her cheeks lifting.

I could tell that I’d lost her in her own
head. She had forgotten where she was, instead allowing her
thoughts to go to a place where she was comfortable and happy. She
shut her eyes, and I watched her hands dance across the frets,
hearing her breath pass her lips. Wisps of her hair danced in the
air, and life glowed on her rosy, freckled skin. The girl I’d known
in her dreams had finally come out.

When the song was over, Jane opened her eyes
and reality returned to her. I felt her back grow rigid once more.
“It feels good to hear that out loud,” she whispered.

“
Out loud? What do you
mean?” I tried to sound surprised, wanting to bring the Jane I knew
back.

She twisted her head to look at me. Her face
was suddenly full of anxiety. “I mean, it’s been a long time since
I’ve played it.”

I looked at her sideways, our lips close.
“Ah.” Though I already knew her whole sad story, it would mean a
lot more if it were told from her lips, rather than through the
prodding fingers of my mind. Her lips stayed sealed on the
subject.

“
Let’s play something
else.” She turned away, smiling wide and leaving the subject behind
her. “Do you like folk?” She laughed.

Jane:

I played the song mindlessly, knowing it so
well that it hardly took any effort. I was angry at myself for
making the comment about my father’s song. The last thing I’m sure
Max wanted to hear about was my sad story. I couldn’t mess this up.
I really liked him and his family—except Gregory, of course. I
laughed as I stumbled over a fret, lost in my thoughts rather than
the simple melody. The song ended.

Max stood behind me, sending a shiver down
my spine as his hand grazed across my back. I watched as he moved
to a nearby couch, looking exhausted with laughter. He propped one
arm over the back of the cushion, resting his ankle on his knee. I
thought about my dream, thought about the taste of his lips on my
fingers. I had wanted to kiss him, but was too chicken to lean in.
I placed the cello back on the stand, propping the bow beside
it.

Max was looking into his lap, smiling to
himself. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it away from his
face and revealing the small freckle near his ear. “My grandfather
wouldn’t tell you, but he has a little magick. That’s why he knows
what he does. He had a near death experience when he was a child,
and ever since, he is convinced that he was supposed to die.”

Max said it as though it was no big deal,
and I couldn’t help but let my jaw drop. “So, he has Sheol
magick?”

Max shrugged.

“
You don’t find that
surprising?” I pressed.

“
Not really.”

I shut my jaw, my head swimming with
disbelief. Erik was like me. “Was he saved by an angel?”

Max picked at the fibers of the couch as he
continued. “At least Erik seems to think so.”

I looked at the tattoos on his arms. “You
sound like you don’t believe in angels.”

His blue eyes found mine. He smiled, but
didn’t grace me with an answer.

I took his mocking expression as a no. How
could he not believe? “So what if he really was saved by an angel?”
I said tartly. “What’s so unbelievable about that?”

Max laughed then, bending forward. I grew
annoyed, wondering why he was being so mean.

“
Stop laughing,” I
demanded.

He stopped, hiding his
amusement. “I think you took that the wrong way. I
do
believe him.” He
motioned to his arms. “I thought it was rather obvious.”

I frowned and crossed my arms against my
chest, admitting defeat.

Max patted the cushion beside him, inviting
me to come sit. I stood from the bench, moving across the room and
sitting with a distance between us, too scared to give in and get
close.

Max grinned, “You’re so far away.” He
clasped his hand around my knee, yanking me closer. “I don’t like
that.” His hand remained on my knee, his other touching my
forehead, his finger trailing down my cheek. “I believe in what
Erik says because I have to. He’s my family, but aside from that, I
want to believe that there is something more, something magickal.
Otherwise, what is living all about?” His eyes were searching mine,
his words diving into my soul.

I found this conversation the first where I
truly felt engaged, but I could tell there was something else,
something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I opened my mouth to
reply, only to shut it as I saw that Max was leaning in. My heart
leapt, but before I could shut my eyes, I saw Gregory enter the
room. I jolted and leaned back. My chest tightened and my heart
ceased to beat—the excitement drained from every inch of my
being.

“
Hey,
guys.”
Greg kept his gaze on me, and I gazed back.
“Not
interrupting
anything, am I?”

Max said nothing as he moved away from
me.

Greg sat on the couch between us, exhaling
as he settled down into the cushion. “My family isn’t driving you
nuts yet, are they, Jane?”

I shook my head, my lips arched into a
frown. “No.”

Greg smiled, his eyes dark. He was handsome,
just as handsome as his brother but with a mischievous glimmer in
his eye. I must have seen him before. I looked between Max and
Greg. I could tell he was the bad boy of the two, like Emily was in
our family. Every family had a bad egg, it seemed.

“
I met
your sister at school the other day, Jane.” Greg looked dreamily
ahead of him. “She’s a
charming
girl.” He clasped his hands
before him, his own set of wing tattoos showing. They were just
like Max’s, but with an added edge as each feather was tipped with
a knife. I shuddered.

I saw Max glare at him, but so did I. I knew
Greg’s type. He was more than likely one of those guys I often
found myself peeling Emily away from. For all I knew, he was a
dealer, too.

I snorted with disgust, finding his
reference to my sister was laced with noticeable vulgarity. “Emily
can posses a certain charm, at times.” I replied only because I
didn’t want to seem rude in front of Max.

Greg tilted his head. “I was telling Max
earlier that she’s just my type.”

I didn’t like the way he said it, as though
Emily were a piece of meat he could simply buy at the market.

Greg snapped out of his daydreaming. “Well,
kids, better take off. I do have a party to attend tonight.” He
rose from the couch, smoothing his shirt. “Unlike you losers.”

“
A party?” Max’s voice
sounded hallowed.

“
Yes.”
Greg looked at me. “If you want to be less
drab,
then you guys
should come. Our house is hardly the place to bring a date,
Brother.
You’ll bore
poor Jane to tears.” He pouted dramatically at me, as though I were
a baby.

Max looked at me with curious eyes, asking
me if I was at all interested with a series of deep stares. I could
tell his desire to go was laced with ulterior motives, and not the
good kind. He wanted to keep an eye on Greg, as did I.

Greg left the room, a noxious wave of
cologne following him. “Come if you dare!” his voice trailed down
the hall.

Wes:

I held Emily’s hand as we walked down the
street, the thump of music guiding us in the right direction.

“
Emily, I’ve never really
done this before.”

“
Done
what?”
She looked confused, but then understood as her
eyes scanned mine. “You mean go to a party?” Emily squeezed my hand
and giggled. “It’s not as reckless as it seems, Wes. More than
anything, it’s just a bunch of students trying to get drunk or
laid.”

I rolled my eyes. “That seems pretty
reckless to me,” I murmured.

She continued, not
noticing I’d said anything, but I knew better than to think she
hadn’t heard. “It’s actually one of the best places to disappear,
because in a crowd, it’s
always
easy to disappear.”

I raised my brows, sighing. “Sounds great.”
I was less than excited, but it was Emily, meaning it was worth
putting up with.

Emily smiled at me,
pulling on my hand despite the obvious fact that I’d flooded my
thoughts with disdain. We stopped on the sidewalk. Emily stood in
front of me, lacing her hands under my arms and across my back. Her
cheek rested against my chest. “Oh, Wes. Don’t tell me
you’re
nervous.”
Her face was buried in the wool of my sweater, her auburn
hair glittering under the streetlights.

“
Emily,” I exhaled sharply
and rolled my eyes, trying to squirm away from her.

She giggled, tickling my sides.

I laughed, grabbing her
hands to stop her. “It’s not that I’m nervous, Em. I just don’t
feel comfortable with my little
issue,
if you know what I mean. What
if someone wants to pick a fight? They’ll be faced with an animal,
maybe even that lion you’re so fond of.”

Emily giggled some more, but finally
understood. “I see you’re side of it, I do. Just let me know if you
start feeling that way, okay?” Her voice was comforting, and it was
hard to see how I could ever let her down. She blinked, looking up
at me as though I were her protector, her everything. I ran my hand
through her hair, kissing her on the forehead. I shut my eyes, a
flash of Jane’s face lighting up my mind. I shook the image away,
but not fast enough.

Emily stepped away from
me, dragging me forward with a glare on her face. Though my gut
knew this was a bad idea, I followed. Whatever happened, I had
Emily to help me through it.
Emily
, not Jane.

Emily smirked.

Max:

“
Why do
you
really
want to go?” Jane eyed me from he passenger seat of my
car.