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Vampire’s Descent: Willow Harbor - Book Two by Jennifer Snyder (11)

Eleven

Mason

Claire stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, eating the chili cheese dog I’d bought her earlier. We hadn’t spoken much since she revealed what she’d read in the damn book that had caused so much chaos since it arrived in Willow Harbor.

“What I don’t get,” I said once she was nearly finished eating, “is why wasn’t there some sort of label on the book to warn people there was a hellhound attached to it? Or better yet, why wasn’t it in a locked box?”

“There probably was a warning. Knowing my brother, he didn’t listen. In fact, it probably only made him want to know what was inside even more. He was always a rebel when it came to books, but not much else in life.” Her voice was flat when she spoke.

I hated that I’d brought up thoughts of her brother, but most of all, I hated how the situation brought up the old adage of curiosity killed the cat when thinking of her brother.

I was going to hell for that thought for sure.

“We have to get rid of it,” I insisted. The book was too dangerous to exist. I didn’t understand why a vampire hunter would jot down a way for one to make themselves more powerful? What good did recording the information bring? It was just asking for trouble in my opinion. “We need to get rid of it, and then we have to clear your brother’s name. People need to know he didn’t kill himself.”

“How are we going to do that?” Claire scoffed. “You got rid of the hellhound. That beast was the only thing we had as far as proof goes. The book doesn’t mean anything without it.” Her eyes narrowed.

I understood what she was saying, but she had to know I didn’t have any other choice. It was kill or be killed. “It was out of my control. I didn’t know he’d turn into vapor and disappear the instant I killed him.”

Her face softened. “Yeah, well, figures.”

I tried to think of anything else we had that might be able to play in our favor. Nothing came to mind. So far, the book and the hellhound were all we had going for us, and without the hellhound, the book was useless. No one would believe there had been anything guarding it.

We needed witnesses.

“Ida and Gwen!” I shouted.

“What about them?”

“They know what bit us. With their testimony, the book, and the brief surveillance footage of the hellhound, the chief of police should believe us. We can fill in the blanks with what we know happened. We can make him believe.”

“You’re wrong if you think a shadow on a surveillance camera and a couple witnesses to a bite mark are going to change how people in this town view what happened to my brother.”

“What more do we need? Seems like more than enough evidence to me.” Why was she being so damn difficult? Ida and Gwen knew it was a hellhound that attacked us. They’d made the tonic and poultice so we could heal from its bite.

“I don’t know what more we need, but I know what we have won’t be enough. The chief will discredit the idea of a hellhound immediately; he already has. He had the video before us. He watched it. Obviously, what’s on it wasn’t enough to garner his attention for an investigation. And as for Ida and Gwen, they won’t talk. The people of Willow Harbor keep to themselves. Haven’t you noticed that?”

“This situation is different, though. It involves the death of a town member, the murder of one. Your brother didn’t kill himself, Claire. You were right, and people need to know that about him.”

She released a breath. I was pushing her buttons and I knew it, but I had to make her see reason.

“I know, but we’re going to need more evidence than what we have. We need to know more about the book. We have to give it credibility. Maybe once we know all the facts, we can persuade Ida into giving a testimony. If she’s persuaded, then Gwen will be too. Ida will want to know whatever mess involving the book and hellhound is all cleared up for good before helping, though. I know her, Mason. I know how the people of this town think.”

I understood what she was saying, but it didn’t mean I liked it. There was a sense of community here, one that made me believe in the people of the town more than I should, I guess.

“Okay then, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll figure out who the book belonged to and who it was written for.”

“How? The collector who put it in Danny’s possession died. Besides, you said you’d been looking online for info on it and couldn’t find anything.”

I thought long and hard. There were only two options available to us: One, we could ask her father if he knew anything about where his friend obtained his books, mainly this one. Or, we could take it to the town library and ask one of the librarians to help us find any information on it available. Now that the hellhound attached to it had been taken care of, there wasn’t anything stopping others from reading its contents. Others who weren’t vampires that is. I’d be damned if I let the book fall into the hands of a vampire.

Bothering Claire’s father didn’t seem like a good place to start, so I decided the library was our best bet.

“We head to the library and see if anyone there can help us,” I said.

“Right now?”

“Yeah, right now. Let me grab some sunglasses, and we can head over before they close. One of the librarians might be able to tell us something about its origin. Also, if the vampire hunter who wrote it created other guides for his love, we might get lucky and find one.”

“Okay, I guess it’s a starting point.”

I grabbed my sunglasses while she pulled a workout top from her bag and a sports bra.

“Give me a second to change.”

I nodded, then situated myself back at the bar to wait. A few minutes later, Claire exited the bathroom ready to go. She’d pulled her long hair into a ponytail and slipped on some sneakers after changing out of my shirt. A swift sense of disappointment shifted through me at the sight of her dressed in something else, but it was the sight of her shoulder that bothered me most. The bandage stuck out like a sore thumb. I knew my hand did too, but I hated the reminder of how much pain she’d been in last night staring me in the face so blatantly. When she reached for a thin jacket hung near the door, I relaxed.

Claire tucked the book into her purse and grabbed her keys. “Ready?”

I nodded and stood to walk toward her. While I wasn’t sure this was the best idea, sometimes a person had to roll with the options they had.


The town library was decently sized, but it was the cathedral top and large pillars on the front stoop that made it seem massive. It was made out of gray stone and seemed as though it might be one of the oldest buildings in the town. It was pathetic I’d lived in Willow Harbor for a solid year and had only visited the library a handful of times. In my defense, I wasn’t much of a reader. However, I did enjoy a good audiobook. I hadn’t listened to any in a while, though. As we stepped inside, rows of books became visible. Even if we were able to narrow down a section to search through, we’d be here all damn night.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. This place had to be closing sometime soon.

“What do we do now?” I asked Claire, hoping she had an idea to narrow this search down.

“I guess we go to the front desk and tell them we’re looking for help in deciphering the origin of a particular book.”

“Do you know if we can trust any of the librarians?”

Now that I thought about it, showing the book to just anyone might not be a good idea. The book was dangerous. I didn’t want to place a target on our backs. We’d already been through enough with the hellhound.

“I’m not going to tell them exactly what the book pertains to. We should be fine,” Claire insisted.

I followed her to a long desk that took up an entire wall. There were four stations set up. An older woman who looked to be in her sixties with dark hair stood at the middle station.

I nudged Claire toward her since she was the only person who seemed to be working this floor.

“Hi, um, we were wondering if you might be able to help us with something,” Claire said as she stepped to where the woman was.

The woman glanced up at Claire looking happy to help. Her bronze name tag said her name was Vicky. “Of course, what can I help you with?”

“Well, we’ve recently come into possession of an old book we’d like to learn the origin of. I’m not sure if you have anyone here qualified in that area, but we were hoping to find out if someone might be able to point us in the direction of books similar to ours.”

Vicky lifted a dark eyebrow at the mention of an old book. “Do you have the book with you?”

My fight-or-flight reflex kicked in.

“No,” I chimed in, thinking it was best if she didn’t know.

Claire flashed me a nasty look. I knew it was because she’d intended to pass the book over to Vicky. While it did seem like the logical thing to do if we wanted to gather any information about it, I still harbored an unshakable sense of nervousness when thinking of showing it to anyone.

“Okay, well. Who was the book written by then? And what is the title?” Vicky asked. Her eyes were fixated on me. She knew I was lying about not having the book with us, but she didn’t press the issue.

“It doesn’t have a title, and we aren’t sure who the author is. It’s more like a guide than an actual book. Is there any way we can browse through any old guides or handbooks that deal with the supernatural world?” Claire asked.

Vicky’s eyes sparked with interest at the mention of books pertaining to the supernatural world. “I can allow you to browse through all the guides we have, but I’m afraid I can’t let you enter the room where they are kept alone. I’ll have to accompany you.”

“Okay, that’s fine. We understand.” Claire nodded.

“Follow me,” Vicky said as she slipped off her chair and rounded the desk to where we were standing.

We followed her past numerous rows of books toward a metal door I wouldn’t have ever noticed had she not led me to it. Mattie, a girl I’d met once when the library hired me to create a flyer for them, stepped into view carrying an armful of books.

“Oh, good. There you are.” Vicky patted her on the shoulder in passing. “I’m going to need you to hold down the fort while I show these two to a specific reference section.”

“Where’s Mr. G?” Mattie asked. Her eyes flicked to me and a sense of recognition passed over her face. “Hey, Mason.”

“I let him leave early tonight,” Vicky said.

“Hey, how are you?” I asked, being polite.

“I’m good,” she said as she lifted the books she was holding. “Busy, but good. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” She started toward the front desk.

Vicky continued toward the metal door she’d been taking us to. Once we reached it, she pulled an old necklace with a silver key on it from beneath her blouse. I watched as she unclipped the key and inserted it into the door.

“One can never be too careful when guarding the books behind this door. I’m going to ask you to please not take any pictures or video footage of the books. You are being recorded, so no thieving,” Vicky said, her intense gaze shifting between Claire and me. “Is that understood?”

“Yes,” we both said in unison.

Vicky swung the door open and motioned for us to step through. The room was dimly lit by low-hung pendant lights. When the door closed behind us, silence surrounded us. Not even the faint murmur of voices or footsteps from outside the door could be heard. The entire room must have been soundproof. A musky scent saturated the air, stemming from the old books lining the shelves. I skimmed them. Each seemed to be a different color and they all varied in size.

“Have at it,” Vicky said, motioning for us to do as we pleased. “Just remember no pictures or video, and no stealing. Also, smile. You’re on camera.” She pointed to a camera located above the door before taking a seat at the closest table to us.

Claire passed by her, heading toward the next wooden table. There were three total. All of them seemed to have been crafted from the same wood the interior archways in the main portion of the library were created from.

I followed Claire.

“Where do we start?” Claire asked after she set her purse on the table and spun to face me.

I had no idea. The number of books in here was overwhelming. The room didn’t seem like it could possibly be this big from the outside.

“Can you point us in the direction of the guides? Like personal guides that include information on supernatural beings or spells even?” I asked Vicky.

“Sure. There are two sections. Which would you prefer to look at first: handwritten guides mentioning supernaturals or grimoires?” It might just be me, but it seemed as though there was a slight sense of excitement festering in Vicky’s eyes when she talked, like maybe she wanted me to give in and show her the book in question. I didn’t get the feeling she would steal it, but only that the promise of a new book on the supernatural world delighted her.

I glanced at Claire. She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, whichever you think.”

“Let’s go with guides including supernatural information first,” I said, figuring it was probably the best place to start. If we could match the handwriting in our guide to the handwriting in another book, then we might be able to learn who the vampire hunter was. Once we learned his name, we might be able to learn more about him and the vampire love he seemed to have.

“Turn around. All of the guides mentioning supernaturals are kept on the shelves along either side of your table,” Vicky said.

There were nine shelves spanning roughly eight feet long on either side of our table. It would take hours to flip through them, but what other choice did we have? We could start now and stay until they closed, then pick up again tomorrow.

“You take that side and I’ll take this one,” Claire insisted. “It looks like they’re labeled by author, so find one for each author and stack them on the table. We’ll go shelf by shelf.”

“Okay. Let’s compare handwriting from each guide to the one we have,” I suggested. Claire moved to retrieve the book from her purse. I held up a hand to stop her. “Do you think it’s wise to pull out our book in here?” All I could think of was the camera and who might be watching, besides Vicky.

“I don’t think we have much choice, do you? If we’re going to compare handwriting, we have to look at the book to do it. I don’t have that good of a memory.”

I ran my fingers through my hair. My gaze darted to the camera above the door and then to Vicky. If what was in this book got into the wrong hands, I’d feel responsible for whatever that vampire did with its knowledge.

Whoever had attached the hellhound to the guide had been smart, but not smart enough. Why hadn’t they opted to destroy the thing instead? It seemed like the only way to make sure it didn’t get into the wrong hands.

As soon as we cleared Claire’s brother’s name, that was what I intended to do. The world was better off without an evil psychic vampire on the damn loose.

I nodded to Claire. “Yeah, you’re right.”

She pulled the guide out, and I shifted around to skim the spines of the books on the first shelf nearest me. Five different author names stood out. I pulled one from each and set them on the table. After situating myself in one of the hard chairs, I started flipping through pages.

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