Page 43 of The Slayer Seduction

I clear my throat, knowing if there’s anyone I can ask in confidence, it’s Violet.

“When did you know Silas was your mate?”

A serene smile takes over my friend’s face as she drives. “Well, I think a piece of me knew when I was sixteen and made that wish. But there was always this pull between us, and I knew it was more than the hex. No matter how much he got on my nerves or how bad I knew I should stay away from him, I just couldn’t.”

Instead of answering that, I process her words by staring out the window the rest of the ride to Adam’s family home.

When we arrive, it looks even worse than what I searched online. Trash is piled high on the front lawn and I feel sorry for the man. Not only did his family betray him, making him a vessel for the Slayer, but knowing he grew up in a place like this makes me feel even worse for Adam.

“Let’s hope they didn’t toss it in one of these piles of trash,” Violet says as we head toward the front door. “Are we sticking with the plan?”

“Yeah, let’s just keep it simple.”

I take the lead, knocking on the front door, my wand hidden but in my fist. I truly hate messing with people’s minds, but if anyone deserves it, it’s Adam’s family.

An older woman who looks worse for wear answers the door. The bags under her eyes are a dark contrast to her pale skin, and her hair is in a messy bun that needs a deep condition and the world’s strongest brush.

“We don’t want nothin’,” she says, about to slam the door in my face.

She gasps when it’s magically pulled back. Fear takes over her features and a part of me is glad I put it there. How could a mother do this to her son?

“Listen. We did what he said. You can’t come in unless we say so,” she says and I cock my head to the side and glance at Violet. What the hell does that mean?

“Who?”

Her eyes blink rapidly, and it’s clear she can’t recall. Not because her memory is poor, but they’ve spelled her to not remember in some capacity.

“Bring us the book and there won’t be any consequences,” I tell her and she tries to shut the door again.

“Dammit, Barbie, tell them we don’t want to join their religion or whatever the hell they’re selling,” a man’s voice shouts, which is promptly followed by pounding footsteps.

The man is large and imposing as he looks between me and Violet with beady eyes.

“Fuck off,” he growls, trying to shut the door as well and gets frustrated when it won’t budge.

“We want the spell book,” I repeat.

“I ain’t given’ you shit.”

“Iris,” Violet warns behind me, and so I do what I need to do, poking my wand underneath the man’s chin. His breathing stutters as he glares down at me.

“Where’s the spell book?”

“In the nightstand,” he robotically answers; his wife gasps at his giving away the location.

“Move,” I command, my wand in such a tight grip my knuckles are throbbing with my tight hold. He moves and Violet holds them both at wand-point as I make my way through the house searching for nightstands. The first bedroom doesn’t have one, just a mattress on the floor, but the next bedroom has two.

The wood sticks as I open the drawer, but when it gives way, I see it. The book has to be ancient; the cover is made with wood and it’s clearly delicate. Not wanting to spend a single more minute here, I clutch it under my arm and hightail it back to the front door.

I hold my wand, pointing it at the father while Violet points it at his mother. We both cast memory spells, making them forget we were ever here.

Violet drives the car like a bat out of hell as I delicately flip open the book.

The paper is fragile and I think it might possibly even be papyrus, like what the ancient Egyptians used to use.

“There aren’t any words,” I exclaim, gently turning the pages.

“What do you mean, there aren’t any words? Do you think they lied to us?”