It had been a long night.

Despite how his body yearned for more rest, Lucien woke at dawn and made his way down into his father's study once his folks had left for work. He locked the door behind him, admiring the hundreds of thick spines that circled their mini library.

Lucien maneuvered around the alphabetically positioned novels before finding what he desired. With the flick of his wand, he used his magic to levee the verdant, thick-spined grimoire down into his hands.

Leaves shifted on the illustration of an orchard as Lucien ran his fingers across the embossed leather. They waved in the wind as if to greet their master, and golden stars danced around the borders of the title: Herbal Magic.To the naked eye, it appeared like an ordinary spellbook and unless opened by a Cromwell wizard, it only showed herbal remedies and blank pages.

He made himself comfortable at his father's mahogany wooden desk, then waved his wand over the grimoire to flip it open to the first page. He skimmed the table of contents until he found the page he needed. The grimoire provided intriguing knowledge about vampires, wolf walkers, and a myriad of other supernatural creatures. But his primary focus was on the vampires.

Their family had some notorious vampire hunters. There were many spells on how to weaken the vampires undead bodies, manipulate them with their own blood, and even how to torture them to death. Just reading the paragraphs on how to let a vampire feed off you, then manipulate it to your will to do whatever you desired made him uncomfortable.

It broke one of the many laws of magic. Forcing someone to do something against their will.

The book claimed that law had a loophole, as it specifically stated they couldn't harm anyone living. They considered vampires as undead monsters, so it was deemed legal. Was that still the case? Could wizards still do that to them?

If he'd let Sebastian drink his blood last night, would he have been able to control him like a puppet? To what extent could he have done so? Was it solely the body? Or could he reach into a vampire's mind and twist their thoughts and soul. The repercussions of abusing such a power gave him shivers as he moved on.

Reading more into supernatural creatures, Lucien found himself digging deeper into the abilities a skinwalker possessed. It could steal the host's body, controlling both mind and soul before it grew tired of the human shell and shed its skin off like a snake. Gruesome diagrams showed him how horrific they left their host when they were done. It peeled the skin from a person, leaving them as nothing but dead, bloody flesh.

Normally, they possessed wizards who had lost their way to the dark arts or were easily manipulated. Could their killer be one of them? Someone jumping from skin to skin? They could possess magical abilities if they hijacked the body and soul of another wizard.

What if it was a possessed wizard behind his sister's killing? Maybe someone completely innocent who'd allowed a skinwalker or some kind of demon inside? Lucien continued reading until the afternoon hours, finally taking a break when the words jumbled together on the pages. He removed his glasses and rubbed his temples before sliding them back on with a frustrated groan.

Anything could've killed Charlotte.

Lucien pushed himself up from his father's desk and made sure to position the chair just as it had been. Why had he thought reading up on their grimoire would help find Charlotte's killer? Was a clue supposed to just jump out into the palms of his hands if he wished for it hard enough?

A migraine nailed into his skull, throbbing each time he blinked. He really needed to rest. Last night's venture through Nevermourn had been fascinating, but it only left him with a few hours of rest after he sneaked back through his window. Lucien wandered down the hall, passing ancient portraits of their ancestors hung on the walls, before locking himself in his bedroom.

A fresh earthy aroma greeted him as he basked in his cozy little plant paradise. Almost every surface was covered in an assortment of plants he'd grown and nurtured himself over the years. Sunlight spilled in from his arched window to nourish his collection of plants. Two spider plants hung from the ceiling and his newest tradescantia flourished with purple-tinted leaves.

Potted plants surrounded his bedside, but he navigated around them with ease to lay down on his lush green comforter. He closed his eyes, savoring the comforting fern and floral aroma. It was common for those with Earth magic to form a stronger bond with nature, and Lucien was no exception.

Although the Cromwell family was most notorious for wielding their Earth magic, Lucien was the only one who truly connected with nature itself. Not even Charlotte bothered to tend to their family's garden unless it was required for their magic training.

As he rested, Lucien's mind wandered to cherished memories of tending to their garden and playing in their treehouse as kids. It was weird to think about those good times without remembering all the bad that shadowed over them. He and Charlotte used to sneak out and sleep in that treehouse when their parents fought. She'd always done her best to keep him safe.

Lucien just wasn't able to protect her when she'd needed him the most.

Warm tears streamed down his cheeks as he tucked his knees up to his chest. The soft blankets brushed against his skin as memories rushed through his mind of all those nights they'd spend in their treehouse, cozied up with their blankets and pillows while Charlotte told him fairytales about majestic lands where only kids could travel.

Lucien wasn't sure how long he laid there, basking in the bittersweet memories, but the sun still shone brightly through his windows when he clambered to his feet. A vine from his plant swept across his nightstand and carefully tangled around the temples of his glasses to hand them over to him.

After a small yawn, Lucien slid them back up the bridge of his nose and stepped over to his window. It gave him a perfect view of their backyard with the grass freshly cut and the leaves all cleared away, immaculately well kept as always, courtesy of his mother.

Out near the wooden fence that bordered their property, the old tree house stuck out as a harrowing reminder of what he'd lost. Whispers of childhood adventures drew him out onto the back patio, dressed in a coat for the cold and boots as old as his memories

The breeze nipped at his rosy cheeks as he ambled up the small wooden stairs before waving his wand over the door frame to open the enchanted lock. They had always used their magic to guard their little safe haven. Either of their parents easily could've deconstructed them, but to Lucien's knowledge, they never did.

It was nostalgic to step inside their whimsical little treehouse, decorated with firefly lights and old blankets. Doodles they'd drawn on construction paper were taped all along the walls of magical unicorns and dragons. Lucien smiled at the drawing Charlotte had made of them flying on the back of a giant rainbow-colored dragon. He remembered her telling him all about how she'd find a way to summon one into Briarwood.

Magic couldn't bring back creatures that went extinct many moons ago, and Lucien doubted there were even dragons painted the color of rainbows. But at that tender age, he had believed anything his big sister had told him.

Lucien curiously examined all their fairytale books stowed away in the book nook their father had built for them. Just touching the colorful and fragile spines they'd crafted from cardboard and fabric made him smile. They were a mishmash of shapes and colors, all created from the wondrous tales of Charlotte's imagination. He had always told her she should've published them.

While skimming through old fairytales, he found one book he didn't recognize. The cover wasn't as wellworn as the others, and upon flipping open to the first page, he recognized the red ink held other secrets within the paper. It was an old trick of Charlotte's she loved to use. With the wave of his wand, he chanted their childish hex, watching in awe as the colorful descriptions of whimsical animals and beautiful worlds away from home vanished.

Uncanny diagrams of vampires appeared across the pages, followed by sketches of their burned bodies appearing in her notes, charting every little detail pertaining to how they died.

Black magic residue was found in an alleyway at one of the crime scenes. Charlotte had detected three types of death curses performed on them before someone covered it up by burning the bodies beyond recognition. Charlotte deduced it was the killer's first victim, as it was the sloppiest of them all so far. The others hadn't left any traces of black magic that she could find. She noted how it was possible the killer figured out how to clean up the residue left behind, but as far as Lucien knew that was impossible.

Lucien continued reading through her book with hopes that somewhere amid her notes she'd written down suspects. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. What if someone had killed Charlotte because she knew too much? How did she even get involved in a case like that?

Too many questions and not enough answers spiraled through his head. Charlotte had kept her investigation a secret for some reason. An uncanny thought occurred to him, but he couldn't see either of their parents letting her look into such a dangerous case without any help.

The Supernatural Council wouldn't have tasked her with such a case, would they?

Lucien took the book with him when he stepped out of their treehouse and climbed back down the small stairs. He needed to show Castor what he had found. Maybe he'd even recognize some of the death curses she had written down.

When he returned to his room, he fetched his crystal ball off the nightstand and channeled his magic through the glowing orb. It vibrated against his palms for a few seconds as a cloud of smoky red filled glass ball, slowly dissolving into Castor's familiar features. He explained his findings, and Castor promised he'd fly over before ending the call.

It wasn't a moment later when Castor pecked on his window as he hovered patiently on his broomstick. Lucien hurried over to shift it open, helping Castor ease himself inside when he dismounted from his broom and tread on the windowsill.

In an ungraceful manner, Castor clambered to the floor as some of Lucien's plants curiously slithered vines across his friend's feet. When they didn't sense his presence as a threat, they retreated.

"This one's new." Castor crouched down to examine his tradescantia plant. "I like the purple leaves. Anyway, you wanted to show me that spellbook of Charlotte's."

"Right." Lucien snatched the book from his nightstand and revealed the enchanted text hidden within the pages. "Maybe you'll know some of the death curses in it. I don't know how she ever learned about such wicked magic."

Castor frowned as he flipped through the pages. "This is some really dark shit. Why did she have this? It's her handwriting, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and I don't know why she has it. Maybe she was looking into those vampire murders?" Lucien suggested. "I considered the Supernatural Council was making her investigate or she somehow became obsessed with it?"

"Maybe she was seeing one of the vampire victims?" Castor suggested. "It would explain why she got so invested in their murders."

"You don't think she did this to them, do you?" Lucien asked softly.

"Do you think she's capable of something like this?" Castor glanced down at the journal again.

"I don't know." Lucien shook his head.

"You realize how risky it is to cast a death curse, right? It siphons your strength and blights your magic. Casting enough of them can cause a wizard or witch to lose their sanity. You already know the tales of what happened to my ancestor, Emmaline Vale. Nobody ever lets us forget about it."

"I'm sorry." Lucien sat on the edge of his bed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm just trying to figure out what happened. We used to be so close, but look how much she hid from me. Why was she donating her blood to vampires? Why would she have a notebook full of ways to kill their kind?"

"I wish I had the answers for you." Castor nestled down beside him, bringing one arm around his shoulders. "You need to keep this book hidden, okay? I don't know what Charlotte got herself into, but these kinds of death curses aren't types that amateurs cast."

"Should we show it to Sebastian?" Lucien asked. "It might help him keep his people safe if he has an idea of what he's up against."

"I trust Sebastian, so I don't think it would hurt to show him, but it's up to you." Castor placed the book behind them on the bed. "Before we do, I want to make sure you're okay. I can't imagine finding that book was easy."

"No, it wasn't." Lucien leaned closer to Castor, enough that their legs brushed against each other. "But I'm okay, I promise."

"You know I'm always here for you, right?" Castor gave him a small smile. "Anytime you need me, don't hesitate to reach out."

"I know." Lucien waited for Castor to drop his arm from his shoulders before standing up and pulling away from his comforting warmth. "Grab your broom. We're flying back to Nevermourn."