vampires mage 02 - witch hunter Read Free Page A

chant the spell with him, why would he pretend that he did?”
    Orcus blinked. “A spell like that requires a great expenditure of energy, I suppose. He’d burn himself out using it all the time on his own. And I suppose he was probably trying to get you using your magic. Impending death has a way of motivating people, I find. And you needed motivating, with all of your neuroses.”
    Seriously? As Orcus walked away, Rosalind’s fingers tightened into fists. She was trapped here by Caine, who apparently had a tendency to lie about crucial information.
    Definitely time to re-evaluate my lack of magical skills. She’d just have to deal with the fact that she lost her mind a bit whenever she took off the ring.
    She crossed to the coffee pot, pouring herself another cup and letting the rich aroma fill her nostrils. As she took a sip, she caught a glimpse of herself in a cracked mirror hanging from the stone wall. Orcus was right—she was starting to look like a skeleton, with cheeks the color of bone and dark circles hanging below her brown eyes.
    I need to get away from this prison . She downed the coffee, and its heat burned her throat. First, I need to find the sigil.
    She had no idea where to look for it, or even what it might look like, but at least she had her first clue. And perhaps she could investigate the creepy old library for information about sigils.
    Dropping her mug onto the counter, she crossed the kitchen to the hall. As she walked, she trailed her fingers over the cool stone walls, and her footsteps echoed off the flagstones as she passed into the cavernous library.
    The room was amazing. Below a starry, vaulted ceiling, leather tomes stood crammed into oak bookshelves. Ladders reached up to towering upper stories of books. Across from an enormous, multi-paned window, a fire burned in a stone fireplace, casting dancing light over a well-worn embroidered rug.
    Rosalind inhaled deeply, the scent of burning cedar filling her nose. If I can’t find the sigil, maybe I could just hole up here night and day, learning about magic until I can break myself free.
    She crossed to the shelves, tracing her finger along a row of book spines, scanning the titles. She half-hoped something obvious would pop out—like “Where to Find Sigils”—but that probably wasn’t how arcane texts worked.Anyway, most of the titles were written in Angelic or Latin, neither of which she could read. The few in English had twee names like Comptesse Amauberge’s Love Remedies or Early Percy’s Encyclopedia of Famine Curses.
    She sighed, crossing into an alcove, and her gaze landed on something that sent her pulse racing. On a faded black spine, copper lettering spelled out the word Maremount.
    Okay, so it wouldn’t tell her how to find a sigil. But now her curiosity was beyond piqued. She had the strangest feeling that Drew had known more than he was letting on, and Caine was certainly hiding things from her.
    Maremount was her homeland, and yet she hardly knew a thing about it.
    She pulled it from the shelf, cracking it open. The first heading read 1692. As she read the text, it gave an account of the Salem Witch Trials, which had led to widespread panic among the “philosophers.” In order to escape the Hunter’s purges in Salem, they’d created Maremount using a powerful spell.
    She paged ahead, her heart speeding up at the word demon.
    In 1693, a bestial demon known as the Ravener slipped through the city gates, his mind twisted by hatred of humankind. With the most evil intentions, he infiltrated the Throcknell Fortress, then slaughtered fair and noble Queen Sapphira, tossing her out a tower window. The Ravener ripped apart the castle, intent on regicide, until he found King Malchior and tore his heart from his chest. His terrible deed committed, the Ravener slipped from the city gates—
    A hand yanked the book from her grasp, and she stared up into Orcus’s cold, dark eyes.
    Her cheeks burned with irritation. “I was