“That’s the question we need answered—and fast. If the demons get their hands on it first, there will be no stopping them. We have to find the Soulbinder and rid this realm of any evil that knows of its existence. It’s our top priority,” Oscar said, giving Caden a pointed look.
“Understood,” Caden said, holding up his hands in concession.
“There’s one other thing. A messenger delivered a small box to the manor a short while ago. It’s still on the stoop. I suggest you go fetch it.”
Caden was up and moving before Oscar finished. He thundered down the stairs, leaving me to sit awkwardly in my chair awaiting his return. I fought the urge to make small talk.
Almost a minute ticked by in silence.
“Elle?” Oscar floated around the desk and hovered in front of me. He grimaced and seemed to struggle to find the right words to finish his thought. “Please be careful. There are things you can’t possibly understand. I never should have agreed . . .” His voice faded, gaze dropping to his polished boots.
“Oscar, none of this is your fault. I know what my responsibilities are, and I’ll do my best not to let the organization down. I promise.”
“My dear, that’s not what I mean. It’s—”
Caden returned holding a narrow package, and Oscar backed away, resuming his position behind the desk. He looked troubled but turned his attention to the package.
“What is it?” he asked.
Slicing open the lid, Caden removed the contents. It was Professor Roberts’ cell phone. Caden’s contact had come through and unlocked the device. After it was powered on, he swiped through to the home screen.
“What should we look at first?”
I pushed out my chair and peered at the phone. “Check her photo reel.”
He scrolled through her photos, slowing when he came to a series of photos of the artifacts. She’d taken shots from every angle, focusing mainly on a weathered book with a strange symbol carved into the leather covering. The next series of photos depicted the inside of the book. Her images were zoomed in on the pages of undecipherable paragraphs, followed by shots of her hastily scribbled notes.
“I think she was trying to transcribe some of it,” I said, pointing toward one of her photos.
Caden continued to scroll, but I grabbed his arm when I spotted something of interest.
“Wait—is that a video?”
He pressed “play,” and an image of Professor Roberts filled the screen. She was seated in her office, illuminated only by a small desk lamp and the moonlight filtering in from the window behind her. Dark circles rimmed her bloodshot eyes. Her complexion was pale and drawn. Tremors shook her hand as she lifted a mug and sipped from the rim. A smudge of her signature red lipstick remained on the porcelain as she placed it back on the desk.
She spoke softly, looking at the camera. “It’s Thursday, a little after 11:00 p.m. I don’t want to go home. I don’t feel safe there.” Pausing, her lips trembled. “I don’t feel safe anywhere.
“Someone . . . no, maybe—something is following me. It’s not paranoia, and it’s not lack of sleep, even though I can’t remember the last time I slept a full night. The insomnia pills work, but I’m afraid to take them.” Professor Roberts leaned close to the camera, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I think I unleashed something. That book . . . it never should have been found. I never should have tried to translate it.”
Her voice shook even as her gaze filled with determination. “I have to get rid of it. No one will believe me, and I’m risking my career, but I have to try. Tomorrow. I’ll get rid of it tomorrow. I just hope it’s not too late.”
The video ended, and Caden checked the time stamp.
“She recorded this the night before her murder at the country club,” I said, feeling an icy chill at the prophetic tone of her final video. “What happened to that book? Do you think she was able to get rid of it? Destroy it, maybe?”
Oscar shook his head. “She wouldn’t have been able to destroy it. Not in any usual way. Fire, water, damage—none of those things would have had an effect. That’s why it was hidden. No—it’s still somewhere. The key to finding it is learning everything we can about her final day.”
“We’ll go through her call logs and emails and see what we can find. In the meantime, I’ll get the photos printed so Oscar can review them. It’s the closest thing we have to the actual book, and her notes will be valuable.” I took the phone from Caden and placed it in my bag.
“Come on, Graves, it’s getting late. I’ll drive you back to the dorms.” Caden picked up my bag and slung it over his shoulder.
I snapped my fingers to get Loki’s attention and gave Oscar a little wave. “I’ll come back tomorrow, and we can do some more digging.”
“Sounds good, my dear. We’ll get an early start.”
My nose wrinkled at hearing the word “early,” but I didn’t argue. Better to complain tomorrow at the crack of dawn while holding an extra-large coffee like everyone else.
Chapter 18
