Mind Mates (Pull of the Moon Book 2) (22 page)

“I hate it when he does that.” Gabriel spun a butterfly lock on the door—she didn’t know how most retailers did it or if there were any regulations, but apparently this booth locked from the inside.

Pan exchanged a glance with Goodwin, then held his hand out toward Emma. “All right, let’s see.”

Suddenly she didn’t want to turn it over. “It’s
my
journal…” She petered out as her petulant tone reminded her disturbingly of Noah. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Gabriel said. “You don’t have to give it to him. Bur we’d appreciate it if you’d show it to us.”

“Just a look,” Pan coaxed. When she still hesitated, he hit her with, “Nice emerald eyes, by the way. Who’s the lucky fella?”

That goosed her hand out.

Pan snared the journal.

She jerked, almost tried to snatch it back—with claws—and managed to stop herself in time. “You did that on purpose,” she accused.

“Ya think?” He gave her a lopsided grin, which faded as he stared at the small leather book. He poked gently with one finger. “The pendant has
embedded
in the cover.”

“Jayden said pieces, plural.” Gabriel’s tight tone iced her breath.

“What?” Emma squeaked. “What’s going on?”

“Unnerving news.” Goodwin’s pupils elongated. Emma wondered if it was his familiar nature coming to the fore. “Your journal is most likely the ‘mind’ piece of the key.”

Pan snorted. “Book, mind, that figures.”

Emma shook her head as if she could shake the idea away. “No. That’s impossible.”

“Perhaps.” Touching the string clasp, Goodwin’s catlike eyes flashed from the book to Emma and back again. “If we may?”

“Yes. Open it. You’ll see it’s simply a journal.”

Pan cranked off the string with less care than she would have liked, but when he opened the book to the blank pages in the middle, she forgot any fear or problem she had.

Ink scrawled across the leaves like ocean waves.

Writing. On the pages that had always been stubbornly blank.

Pan, absorbed in turning page after filled page, murmured, “That bang. Must have been the writing unlocking.”

“Fascinating.” Goodwin’s pupils elongated even more as his gaze flowed over the pages. “When the second piece of the key touched the first piece—no,
fused
with the first piece—the writing was freed. But it’s illegible.”

Emma craned her neck. He was right. The symbols on the page were
like
letters, and the groupings reminded her of words, but none of it resolved into real writing. The harder she stared, the less sense it made, to the point that it started giving her a headache.

“Maybe third eye?” Pan shut his eyes, his forehead smoothing out. A familiar could use Witch’s Sight? She wondered if that meant she could do it. Then the panther familiar’s physical eyes swept open, and she could tell by his expression of disgust that the news wasn’t good. “Nothing. Not with regular sight or third eye.”

“Of course not, dear boy.” Goodwin patted the other familiar’s shoulder, his pupils regaining their round shape. “Remember the prophecy—‘Mind is focused by Light.’ Gabriel must read the unlocked writing.”

“Duh. Okay, here.” Pan held the book out. “You heard the man. Do your thing.”

Gabriel stared at the pages in that unfocused third-eye manner. Then he clenched his lids briefly. “I can’t read them either. Unless I…” Trailing off, his lids opened and his eyes began tracking the way Emma knew meant his brilliant mind was working overtime, hitting the hard drive of his brain with speed and precision.

“No. I’ve got nothing.” He lobbed a perplexed glance between Goodwin and Pan. “I don’t know what to do.”

Emma cleared her throat. “I might.”

All three males gaped at her, the familiars with ego-wrecking disbelief, but Gabriel with an encouraging hint of pride. He said, “Great. What do we do?”

The “we” reassured her. “The prophecy—which we don’t believe but still can use, right?—says Mind is focused by Light. Glasses focus light too. Use your spectacles.”

“But they’re plain glass,” Pan said. “They’re not really lenses. They don’t actually do anything.”

Gabriel wasn’t wearing them now. Emma remembered he removed them before doing his action-Gabriel thing, fighting Noah. “You don’t need them? Then why do you wear them?”

“Long story.” He looked away, his cheeks darkening, not in embarrassment, but oddly, in shame.

Her heart went out to him even as she wondered what had caused it.

“Worth a try.” Pan fluttered fingers toward the witch. “Gimme.”

Gabriel extracted the glasses from his shirt pocket and passed them to his familiar. Pan adjusted the height of the spectacles over the journal like a seesaw. “Nothing.”

“Mind is focused by
Light,
” Emma reminded them. “Let Gabriel try.”

Gabriel leaned in to look. Frowned. Taking the glasses and journal, he settled the glasses on his nose and peered closer at the page.

“I…I can read it.” His voice was filled with wonder.

A gong rang in her head. From the startled expressions on all three males’ faces, they had heard it too. She asked, “What was that?”

Goodwin’s face cleared first. “The sound of prophecy fulfilled.”

“But those glasses don’t
do
anything,” Pan repeated mournfully.

Goodwin shrugged. “Magic, eh?”

“Should still make sense.” The familiar kicked an imaginary stone.

“You always were a scientist at heart.” Goodwin patted Pan’s arm consolingly.

“Read it.” Emma couldn’t keep the excitement from her tone, the
yearning.
New writing in her father’s journal? What would it tell her? More about her ancestor, a way to control her iota talent, or even a way to make it beautiful? “Please?”

Gabriel flipped back a couple pages then read silently through the newly unlocked entries. “Your ancestor was a builder?”

“Yes. We think sheds and barns, maybe even homes—”

“Think bigger. He was one of three artisans who fabricated the
Cl
é
de la Nuit.
”

“The ‘Key to Night’,” Pan translated.

“Yeah.” Her mate flipped forward a few pages, concentration lining his forehead. “Apparently there were many keys—the key to night is simply one.”

“Read,” Emma urged again.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “‘Once upon a time the world was overrun by the Infinite Ones, angry Powers who cared not for other beings: neither Ape nor Witch nor Wolf nor Cat.” He paused. “I don’t think he means actual apes, wolves, and cats.”

Goodwin said, “Those are very old names for mundane humans, shifters, and familiars.”

“Ah. Okay, I’ll try to translate. He continues, ‘The Infinite Ones fought constantly, with humans, Powers…I guess that’s magical beings…and amongst themselves. The civil wars were the most terrible, streaking fire across the realms—including that of mortals. The lesser magical beings were used like fodder, the mundane killed in droves. Even Infinite Ones of neutral disposition toward mortals carelessly smote whole cities in the by-blows of their squabbles.”

“Yikes,” Pan said. “That’s worse than ‘We have to destroy the village to save it.’ Godzilla-versus-Mothra-size oops.”

Gabriel went on, “Our complete destruction was imminent. We determined to fight back. But as the Infinite Ones were near immortal, we could not win. We knew our only hope was to lock them from the mortal realm forever.

“No ordinary witch could imprison even a single Infinite One, as common locks would ne’er hold. Then the great Jean-Dion d’Avignon discovered the principle of the triple-forged key.

“The Witches’ Council brought together triplets to create the Triple Keys, each strong enough to imprison an Infinite One.” He scanned the text a moment. “Looks like the forging teams were called a triplet—a witch, shifter, and familiar working together, plus what he calls ‘the mightiest wizard prince who ever lived’ as annealer.”

“What the hell?” Pan said. “Why didn’t we know about this?”

Goodwin raised a thoughtful eyebrow. “It should be in the histories.”

“Read the rest,” Emma urged.

Gabriel nodded. “But it was the three of us, a Royal Witch, a Fabled Familiar, and me as the Alpha Iota, who were brought together to create the last and greatest of the triple-forged keys, the key to hold back Night—the most terrible and awesome Infinite One of them all.”

“
Alpha
Iota?” Emma said. “What is that?”

“
Night
is an
Infinite One?
” Pan’s near-screech overrode her.

Both Goodwin’s brows were raised. “Let me be sure I understand. Our prophesied key is really one of many keys designed to create and lock pocket dimensions?”

“Yes.” Gabriel scanned the pages. “Although the ‘Key to Night’ apparently is the most important.”

“A damned
prison?
” For a moment Pan just stood there. In Emma’s experience, he was rarely at a loss for words. But though his mouth was open, only incoherent, frustrated noises came out. Finally he managed, “It doesn’t unlock magic? This thing is a souped-up Enforcer’s key?”

“Specifically to the prisoner Night.”

“Fuck me,” Pan said. “The wondrous key to magic—it’s nothing but a
jailbreak key?
”

“If it helps, it seems to be the last of its kind,” Gabriel said. “Apparently the other keys were destroyed so their prisoners can never escape.”

“They must be quite awful beings,” Goodwin said softly. “All of them, locked away forever.”

“Why wasn’t Night’s key destroyed?” Emma asked.

“Good question.” Gabriel frowned closer at a page. “He says, ‘After being used for its terrible purpose, our Great Key was dismantled. Each piece was disguised, and the hidden piece entrusted to the son or daughter with the best heart, to be passed down through the generations.’”

“Which explains how Emma got her piece, and Noah his,” Pan said. “But why?”

“That’s the big money question, isn’t it?” Gabriel scanned the rest of the pages, then shrugged. “Doesn’t say. But the magical types working together—even
encouraged
to work together—by the Council? What happened to that?”

“Right,” Pan said. “Why isn’t it even in the history books?”

Goodwin’s pupils narrowed to vertical slits. “Even more disturbing—why don’t familiars know this?”

The panther familiar raised both eyebrows at the cat.

Gabriel’s eyes scanned text, and he flipped a few pages. “Here. The entries end with, ‘There are terrible changes afoot. This writing has been hidden from powerful ones within the Witches’ Council, evil ones who would see us silenced.’” He looked up, concern etched on his features.

The men exchanged uneasy gazes.

Anything that worried three strong males made Emma’s stomach spit acid.

“That’s why Avignon locked the writing with death magic,” Gabriel finally said. “I almost wish I hadn’t read this.”

“Prophecy,” the cat familiar said. “The prophecy drove the two pieces together at the exact time you’d be around to read this writing. It must be driving us to put the key back together.”

“To use it?”

“No way.” Pan shook his head. “Unleash the worst Infinite One of them all? No, when we get all the pieces, we have to destroy the key.”

“Imprisoning Night forever?” Emma had been thrown into one of those terrible jails too, wrongly accused, and felt some sympathy for poor Night, whoever he was. “Are we sure that’s necessary? We don’t know who on the Council wanted to silence my ancestor, or why. But Fezz says they were evil. Maybe that means Night isn’t so bad. Maybe he was imprisoned unfairly.”

Though if unfair, why had her ancestor locked up Night in the first place? Was Fezz as mean-spirited as Ryder?

She didn’t like where her thoughts were taking her.

A rap on the glass startled her. Jayden stood at the door of the grooming booth. Seeing he had their attention, he waved them to open the lock.

Gabriel cracked the door. “What?”

“Trouble.” Jayden came in and closed the door. “How far have you gotten with Fezz’s journal?” He pointed to the book in Gabriel’s hand.

Emma gaped. “How do
you
know about my ancestor?”

Jayden grinned. “Prince Simon the Powerful, Sunmane the Wise, and Fezz the Singer of the Universe are legendary in some parts. The original Three Musketeers of the magical community, with Jean-Dion d’Avignon as M. d’Artagnan. What have you learned,
ma petite
iota
?
”

She startled at the phrase. “My journal is part of a key.”

“Good start. What else?”

“The idiot
prophecy.
” Gabriel raised the leather-bound book and gave it a shake as emphasis. “The key to night? It’s not a key to magic at all. It’s for a
jail.
This is why I hate prophecies.”