Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
The offer sent alarm through his chest. Alone with her in a building full of historical documents that might react to her presence the way the sketches had? With both lockets pulsing in harmony and mystical forces building toward whatever cosmic conclusion Maestro had described?
But Emmett’s hollow-eyed desperation reminded him that delay wasn’t an option. Every day they waited, more people would be marked by corrupted soul-binding magic.
“Seven o’clock,” he agreed. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Though I have to ask . . .” She studied his face with the intensity of someone who made her living reading between historical lines. “This isn’t just academic research, is it? There’s something personal in how you’re approaching these symbols.”
The observation was too perceptive for comfort, but he’d learned decades ago that the best lies contained fragments of truth.
“I’ve encountered similar markings before,” he said. “In other cases, other cities. There are patterns that repeat across time and geography and understanding them can prevent unfortunate repetitions.”
“I see.” But her expression suggested she’d filed away his evasion for later consideration. “Well, I’ll pull everything we have on 18th-century soul-binding practices. If someone is using modified versions of historical techniques, we’ll need to understand the original methods before we can predict what the modifications might accomplish.”
The afternoon sun was harsh after the Archive’s dim interior, but it couldn’t burn away the image of silver light flickering around Delphine’s fingertips or the memory of her unconscious reach for the locket Charlotte had crafted for this moment.
As he walked toward his office, Bastien found himself remembering another afternoon when sunshine had felt like judgment and magical forces had gathered around a woman who didn’t understand what she represented.
The Lacroix estate's hidden library in 1762, where Charlotte spread forbidden texts across mahogany tables by candlelight. Books that had been smuggled from Prague, manuscripts copied in secret by scholars who understood that some knowledge was too dangerous for public consumption. She wore midnight blue silk that made her appear carved from shadow and starlight.
“Look at this,” she whispered, pointing to diagrams that seemed to move in the flickering light. “Consciousness preservation across physical death. Not resurrection—something far more sophisticated.”
Bastien studied symbols that made his fallen nature recoil. “The Church would call this heretical.”
“The Church calls many truths heretical when those truths threaten their authority.” Her finger traced mystical geometry with fearless precision. “But what if love really could transcend the boundaries they claim are absolute? What if souls truly could choose their own destiny rather than accepting what cosmic forces impose?”
“Charlotte—”
“I know the risks.” She looked up from the forbidden knowledge, dark eyes blazing with determination that could reshape reality. “But I also know that some connections are worth any price.”
The memory faded as he reached his office, but its emotional weight remained. Charlotte had known exactly what she was attempting, had understood the cosmic implications of soul-binding magic and chosen to proceed anyway. Her love had been informed, willing, and dangerous as revolution.
Delphine deserved the same opportunity for informed choice.
Even if the truth destroyed any possibility of happiness between them.
As he settled at his desk to prepare for the evening’s revelations, the locket pulsed once against his chest—not warning, but acknowledgment. Tonight, secrets maintained for over two centuries would finally be shared.
Tonight, Delphine would begin to understand what she truly was, and what choices lay before her.
And tomorrow, they would both learn whether love could survive the kind of truth that reshaped fundamental assumptions about life, death, and the bonds that connected souls across the vast spaces between stars.
Five
The glyph sketch lay flat on Maman Brigitte’s reading table like an accusation drawn in charcoal and ink. Bastien watched her dark eyes trace the angular symbols, noting how her expression shifted from curiosity to concern to alarm. Outside her Rampart Street shop, late afternoon rain drummed against windows that had witnessed more supernatural consultations than most buildings in the Quarter.
“This is not good,” Maman said finally, her voice carrying decades of experience interpreting omens others preferred to ignore. “Soul-binding resurgence. Haven’t seen patterns like this since . . .” She paused, calculating years. “Well. Since never. These markings aren’t just echoing old magic. They’re calling it back.”
She rose with fluid grace, moving to shelves that held items most people would dismiss as curiosities—carved bones that hummed with barely audible frequencies, crystals that cast shadows in impossible directions, bottles filled with liquids that moved without being disturbed.
From beneath the register, she withdrew Charlotte’s leatherbound journal. Its cover bore water stains and scorch marks, evidence of dangerous knowledge contained within its pages.
“My predecessor’s work,” Maman reminded him, opening to a page marked with black ribbon. “She kept records of the old families’ magical experiments. Most of it was for academic interest only, but some patterns have a way of repeating themselves.”
The page described “resonant objects” in language that mixed scholarly precision with practical warning. Items crafted not just to hold magical energy, but to seek out specific targets across time and space. Artifacts designed to vibrate when near their intended matches, growing stronger with proximity until separation became impossible.