AllFreeNovel
Share Us
where root meets bough
teizel
Barcelona welcomes us with torrential downpours. It’s an unusual sight for the Ciutat Comtal, usually blessed with endless sunshine, and it takes everything in me not to interpret it as a bad omen. It’s been… well, centuries, since I last returned to the small apartment I own here, too raw to bear the reminder and yet too stuck to let it go once and for all. At least it’s turning out useful for something.
The building has been standing proudly in the Gothic Quarters since the mid-19th century. Some things still haven’t changed — the iron-wrought fenestrations inlaid with stained glass, for example, are original, patina’d by time. Walking into the apartment and taking in the tiled floor and moulded ceiling throws me back two-hundred years.
Luckily, the rest of the apartment I’ve had renovated. The sleek frosted kitchen flows into a seating area with post-modern couches and chaises in steel and leather. A set of iron door-windows look out onto the thin balcony, and two frosted glass doors hide the bedrooms and adjacent bathrooms from view.
Esme drops her bag on the ground by the entrance and takes the space in with her nose turned upward to the twelve-foot ceilings. “It’s beautiful.”
I give a noncommittal shrug. She’s right, the apartment is gorgeous. But all I see when I look at it is the place of my damnation. All I can think about is opening that exact front door, and being handed the jewelry box for the first time.
A soft hand grazes my back, and I jostle out of my memories. “Everything okay?”
I grip her other hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her knuckles. “It’s been a long time since I was last here. It’s not exactly my favorite place in the world.”
It’s not a lie; these days, I despise it. But there was a time, very long ago, when I adored this city. When I thought it my home.
What a fool I’d been.
Mei ignores both of us as she floats in through the front door and then again through one of the two bedroom doors. “Dibs,” she calls out.
I lift a brow with a wry smile. “It would seem you’re stuck rooming with me. Unless you’d prefer to share a bed with a ghost.”
Esme’s lips quirk. “Prince of the Beyond or hyperactive ghost. Difficult choice,” she muses, before leaning closer and skimming her fingers over my jaw. “I guess you’re not that bad of a bed mate.”
“Mhmh.” My hand finds her neck and wraps around it, pulling her closer until our lips are a breath apart. Her apricot scent makes my head spin. It’s been a while since I’ve fed — admittedly, a little too long if I’m to spend any significant amount of time in close confines with Esme. “What a glowing endorsement.”
My lips drag over hers in a gentle kiss, and my ego swells in my chest when she opens for me with a whimper. I pull away from her with one last swipe of my tongue over her lips. “As much as I would love to get lost in you right now,” and I would, more than anything, “satisfying our hungers will have to wait, little witch. We’ve got a grimoire to find.”
Esme pulls away from my embrace and walks out into the terrace as I follow. “How do we go about that? This city is not small by any means.”
“I have a few ideas.” At one point, a literal lifetime ago, I’d made a craft out of stealing spell books as Isabel’s personal thieving monster. Esme doesn’t need to know that, though. “There was a point in history when humans hunted witches in fear. Then witches got stealthier, and fear turned to superstition. These days, men of science see grimoires as little more than cultural artifacts.”
“So… what? They keep them in museums?”
“Museums, libraries. Sometimes private collections. They’re beautiful books, after all, so it’s not unusual for humans to treat them like a piece of art.”
Esme’s lips turn downward in a pout. “How are we even going to know if the grimoire is the right one if it’s behind a case?”
“You’ll feel its pull, like you did for your mom’s spell book, but stronger. As far as the stealing part, leave that to me.”
That afternoon, we visit two history museums and a Catalunya art museum, but come up empty-handed. “They might have something in storage,” I suggest, turning to Mei. “Care to check it out?”
She huffs, the sound more hissing kettle than human. “You always want me to do your dirty work.”
“Not always.” I can’t help a grin pulling at my lips. “Just when you’re the one who’s invisible and can pass through walls.”
“I’m just saying that it would be nice to be appreciated around here every now and again.”
My best judgment fights a losing battle against my annoyance. “I let you—“
Esme stops me with a hand pressed to my chest. “We are grateful, Mei. If we find my family grimoire… I might actually survive this.”
And with that, Mei turns into a pile of goo. Almost literally, as her entire body sags like a leaking balloon. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Where do I go?”
I give her directions to the staff only storage entrance I’d spotted on our recognizance, and she floats away. Esme and I take a seat on a bench in the central courtyard of the museum.
