Of Ashes and Chaos: A Poppy Seymour Mystery (Poppy Seymour Mysteries Book 1) by K. S. Roberson

Author:K. S. Roberson [Roberson, K. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

13

A Kiss of Darkness

“You shouldn’t have made that bulb explode.” I hissed at Agnes, the second the door to my room closed behind me. “Now, I look like even more guilty!”

“I could have done much worse,” Agnes fumed. “Bullies need to be put in their place and should feel the fear inside them, and the trickle of pee down their leg from time to time.”

I rolled my eyes, tired beyond belief but also still wired. “What do we do now?”

Agnes glared at me. “Go to bed like a normal person. Or do you need me to rub your feet and read you a bedtime story?”

“I need something to do.” I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. “It’s only seven. I can’t go to bed yet.”

“Why not? I’m tired and I’m not even affected by human emotions anymore.”

“Agnes!”

“Fine! Why don’t you read or something? Didn’t you bring one of the trashy romance novels that you love?”

“No,” I grumbled, fully aware that I was acting like a petulant child. “I didn’t think I would have free time, and I didn’t think that there would be a kibosh on cell phones either.”

“A lack of planning on your part doesn’t mean I should turn into a TV and entertain you.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Fine,” she snapped. “Why don’t you read Mr. Goul’s journal? I’m sure that’ll put you to sleep.”

“It’s a little hard to read in its current form, you know. Empty,” I reminded her.

“Then why don’t you figure out how to read it? Do some magic that won’t cause harm to anyone in here, except the vampires.”

“There has to be another way.” Risking magic in an already tense environment wouldn’t do.

“While you ponder that, I’m going to go lay down. Don’t think too hard. Your brain might pop out your eyeballs.”

“Pencils!”

Agnes looked at me funny. “Markers!”

“Agnes.”

“Sorry, I thought we were naming writing utensils. Why are you shouting pencils at me with a crazy look on your face?”

“Do you remember using pencil lead to make a rubbing of a leaf when you were a kid?”

“I played with yarn as a child and one time sewed my finger to a doll I was trying to repair. I didn’t do weird pencil art. I don’t even think I had a pencil. Spells don’t require writing.”

You’d think that Agnes had been a poor urchin on the streets of London, rather than growing up in one of the biggest and most prosperous Covens in the United States.

“You take a piece of paper, put it over a coin or leaf and use the pencil to make a pretty picture of the object underneath.” My voice had raised slightly. “What if I did that with the journal? The ink might not be visible, but the imprint of the words is there! Maybe I can read what Garret Goul was writing.” Without having to risk doing a spell. That part went unsaid.

“That’s...” Agnes paused. “Actually not a bad idea, if I’m being honest. You positive you came up with that on your own?”

I glared at her.

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