Page 113 of Nightshade

But it wasn’t enough.

I’d gleaned little more about my father than when I’d first arrived, except when I collected the pocket watch I’d given to him and learned that he did, in fact, show up in Nightshade at some point--and at Blackwater, specifically. The days were spinning along, and soon, I’d run out of time. I needed to leave the cathedral. To venture into town and look around. To ask about him.

“Enjoying the view?” At the sound of the voice from behind, I let out a squeal, spinning around too fast. My stomach caught in my throat as I flailed my arms, teetering backward.

A strong grip held me steady, and I looked up to find Mister Van Croix reaching out for me. Once balanced, I straightened my dress and cleared my throat. “Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t frolic around the cliff. It’s dangerous.”

“I guess I’m lucky you happened to be passing by.”

“Briefly.” He stepped in the direction of the stable, and I lurched after him.

“Oh, where are you going?” The question shot out of me too eagerly and far too fast for me to stop myself.

The look he shot me when he came to a halt, a very none-of-your-business glare, had me stepping back. “To the bookshop,” he answered, to my surprise.

Why my heart fluttered right then, I couldn’t say. “Bookshop? In town?”

The scowl on his face softened only a little, and his gaze unfocused, seemingly lost in a thought.

“Is everything okay?” I was just waiting for him to tell me to buzz off at that point.

Instead, he frowned, still studying me. He tipped his head and reached out a hand, as if to cup my face, the sight of which locked up my lungs. Before his fingers made contact, he quickly recoiled and glanced away.

“My apologies. What did you ask?” If the man were capable of looking flustered, I was staring at it.

“I wanted to know if I could accompany you to the bookstore? I promise I won’t talk your ear off, or drive you nuts.”

“Sure.”

“No problem. I’ll just—wait. Did you say sure?”

Eyes wary, his lip twitched. “Yes.”

Excitement exploded inside of me, and I let out an embarrassing squeal and a hop. “Really?”

The confused look on his face told me he wasn’t certain he wanted me to go, but I ignored it for the opportunity to not only venture into town and ask about my father, but to visit a bookstore, of all places.

A sound that was part groan and part sigh slipped past his lips, as he turned away from me toward the stables. I stood for a moment, wondering if he’d suddenly changed his mind.

When he stopped midstride and swung around, jerking his head, I smiled and scurried after him.

* * *

Inside the carriage, I sat across from Van Croix, while Garic served as the coachman. Knee bouncing with excitement, I stared out the window beside me, watching the landscape pass. Every so often, I turned to catch Van Croix staring that unreadable and unnerving stare of his.

“Is your leg incapable of holding still?”

Hiding my smile, I shifted on the seat, forcing it steady. “Just excited, is all.”

“What makes you so enthusiastic about books?”

Grateful to break the long stretch of uncomfortable silence between us, I abandoned my window watching to turn my attention to him. “My father. He always had a book in his hand. Nonfiction texts mostly, but he read endlessly. May I ask what it is you’re looking for?”

“A grimoire.”

“Grimoire? As in … spells and such?”