The Rebel Witch – Thieves Read Online Lexi Blake

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Suspense, Vampires, Witches Tags Authors: Lexi Blake Advertisement

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Yup. They had that many agricultural records and not a single romance or mystery.

The air around me chilled.

“Oh, even I felt that.” Casey put a hand out as though he could touch the invisible wall of cooler air. “We should go the other way.”

I managed to not give him a hearty “duh” as I turned and started moving toward the right-hand side of the library. Warmth seemed to push me along. It was moving me toward the spiral staircase.

“What do you think it wants?” Casey was right behind me.

“How am I supposed to know?” I was at a loss. I’d been in a lot of weird situations, including haunted houses, but this was different. This wasn’t a haunted house. It was an enchanted one.

I got to the bottom of the spiral and stepped on, certain I knew now where I was going.

“Uh, baby, I don’t think it wants me there.”

I had managed to get halfway up the first round. I looked down and Casey was still on the ground floor, and there were now a bunch of chairs blocking his way. So it wanted me to go alone. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, you won’t.” He stood there, frowning up at me. “You get down here, Liv. We have no idea what this thing is trying to do.”

But I kind of did. The house wasn’t exactly whispering to me, but I had such a strong feeling. It overwhelmed my senses. I had no doubt that if I hadn’t been wearing that stupid collar, I would have felt the effects but been able to think through them. The collar left me helpless, so this was really his fucking fault. I felt not a hint of guilt as I kept climbing.

“Hey, get out of my way,” Casey was saying.

I glanced down again, and the chairs were moving, keeping Casey away. Those chairs were stacked and moving in perfect synch.

It was kind of funny, and I wanted to watch Casey try to take on the furniture, but I had to keep walking.

Warmer. As I hit the third floor, it was like a blanket dropping over my shoulders, and I turned off there, going to the right…cooler. Left. I moved toward the left and down into the stacks.

It was quieter here. I could barely hear Casey cursing. There were a couple of candles that came on as I walked near. The stacks rose above my head, soaring into the shadows of the library.

I could hear the shuffling of tiny creatures moving, see their shadows before they disappeared again.

I kept walking, turning here and there and becoming entirely lost. When I could no longer hear Casey, I stopped. Here. I was supposed to be here.

Here was a dead end.

I picked up one of the books. It was in Demonish and apparently was all about how to prepare seeds for planting.

Not the one I wanted.

I hadn’t wanted a book before, but now the need was right there. I needed to find the right book.

In the dreary dark, I let my fingers slide over the spines of the books. One way they were cooler. When I changed directions, warmth played on my fingertips.

And then I had it. I pulled the book free, ready to see what it had to say.

That was when the whole section clicked quietly and opened, revealing a hidden door.

Shit. I’d been hoping this was the house’s way of helping a sister out. Up until this moment, I’d kind of thought the house was tired of watching us fumble and was simply leading me to the book I needed.

This was a whole room, and even with my powers bound, I could feel the magic coming from it.

I didn’t want to go in. If I went in, things would change again.

I forced myself through because I wanted this change. I wanted out. I wanted to be free.

I stepped through the doorway and felt the moment I passed through the magical wall that separated these spaces.

This place was out of synch with the rest of the house. It existed in space that both was and wasn’t part of the house. I would bet there was another door that led off this plane. This was a senior witch’s sacred space.

I looked up in wonder at the vast array of ingredients this witch had acquired. She had bottles and jars that lined the floor-to-ceiling cases. And books. Oh, these were books I was interested in.

But then I caught sight of the big book in the center of the room. It was closed and on a lectern.

A grimoire.

There is nothing more sacred to a witch than her grimoire. It’s the place she records everything she has learned. All her spells and curses and bindings. All her tonics and tinctures. A witch puts her soul in a grimoire.

I used to have one. My mom gave it to me when I was figuring out what I was. She’d found it online. It wasn’t like the one in front of me. Mine had been new, but my mom told me one day I would find the person worthy of my knowledge. She’d promised one day I would give it to my own daughter.

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