Devils & Thieves (Devils & Thieves #1)(38)

I kept digging until my fingers brushed over a little leather notebook. I pulled it out, thinking perhaps it was Alex’s diary, or maybe a spell book.

But when I pushed open the cover, I didn’t immediately recognize the handwriting. It was small and slanted. Alex’s handwriting was big and looping.

I scanned a few pages, not wanting to infringe on anyone’s privacy, but it quickly became apparent that I was reading a dead man’s journal.

The notebook belonged to Michael Medici.

This must have been what Alex was trying to tell me about yesterday.

I dropped onto the corner of the bed and flipped to the last page.

Henry Delacroix had more secrets than we ever knew, and I’m about to expose the biggest. I have to make sure the threat is gone. I’m not going to let anyone get close to that kind of blood power ever again. The cost has been way too high.

Blood power… Alex had mentioned that exact phrase.

The date at the top of the page was from a week before Michael Medici died—and a chill ran down my spine as I realized it was the day before Crowe and I had kissed. I ran my fingers over that page and felt tiny ridges, so I flipped it to look at the back. There, in dark ink, like he’d been pressing the pen deep into the page, it read,

I don’t know if I regret convincing Old Lady Jane to touch me or not. The good news is I know exactly how much time I have left. I can say good-bye without really saying it. I can make sure the succession is planned. And even if it’s the last thing I ever do, I’m going to expose the truth and end the threat before anyone else is hurt.

My heart ached as I read his final words. Suddenly, I wondered if that was what Crowe had been brooding about the night I’d found him. Had his father been somehow trying to tell him good-bye and prepare him to take over?

It was almost too tragic to contemplate, but that wasn’t all—there was this secret that Michael had discovered. Had it led directly to his death?

“Did you find anything?”

The sound of Crowe’s voice made me jump a mile, and the notebook slid out of my lap. I retrieved it from the floor and handed it over. “Not yet. But look at the last page.”

He flipped to the back and locked his jaw, brows furrowed deeply.

“This is my dad’s handwriting.”

“I know. Turn the page.”

He did. When the words settled in, he collapsed on the end of the bed next to me, his arms heavy in his lap, the notebook flopping open on his knee. “The other day, Jane told me what he’d done, how he fooled her into touching him so he’d know when he was going to die. It made so much sense.” He ran a hand through his hair. “He was acting so strange before last year’s festival. Right before we left, he told me I was about to be made president.” He swallowed and looked out the window. “He told me I’d have to do whatever it took to protect the club.”

“But he didn’t tell you…”

“That he was about to die?” Crowe shook his head. “I thought he was going to leave like your dad did or something. I was so angry at him. But I was also determined to do as he said, for the sake of the Devils.” He turned and met my gaze. “I couldn’t afford to think of anything else,” he added quietly.

And that was it. The explanation for what happened between us. No apology, no request for forgiveness, but I understood it. This was why he’d pushed me away. No time for distractions.

Apparently, that’s all I was. “Did he tell you what Henry Delacroix’s secret was?” I asked in a husky voice.

“No. He didn’t even mention it. But I’ll bet his little brother Killian was right at the center of it.”

We sat there in silence for a few long moments. “What now?” I finally asked.

“Do you have what you need to cast the spell?”

“No. I found that first.”

He got to his feet, scanned the room, and grabbed the little stuffed bear propped against Alex’s pillows. “Use this.” He looked at the notebook lying discarded on the bed. “Now I’m even more worried about what Killian is up to. He must be behind Alex’s disappearance.”

“And if I find her?”

“If you find her, then we’ll go get her. And if someone took her by force, I’ll murder them. Not with magic. With my bare hands.”

“What if she’s just… holed up with someone?”

His eyes narrowed. “Like that prospect?”

I swallowed hard. “No idea.” I wasn’t sure what to think. I was imagining Darek and Alex wrapped around each other, and although it didn’t make me happy, it also didn’t fill me with jealous rage the way seeing Crowe with Katrina had.

I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not.

“Jemmie,” Crowe said impatiently. “Sometime today, please.”

I slid from the bed to the floor and sat cross-legged, the stuffed animal in my lap. My dad had tried to teach me a locator spell when I was little, and of course the magic had overwhelmed my senses. I understood the mechanics of the spell, but I’d never successfully cast one. It should be easy for someone with my kind of magic, but here I was, my upper lip beaded with sweat, my gut rolling with anxiety over what was about to happen.

A warm hand closed over mine, and I looked up to see Crowe on the floor next to me. “When my dad first taught me to cast, I didn’t want to,” he said. “I was scared. I had so much venemon inside of me that it was almost like it was trying to tear its way out.”