A Darkness Strange and Lovely (Something Strange and Deadly #2)(67)

“But?”

“But if you command me to, I can sense for the magic.”

“Will you be angry if I command you?”

He shook his head once.

And at that movement the hunger flared in my belly, so sharp and so fierce I could not breathe.

You promised Joseph you would resist. Except this was vital information, wasn’t it? If we could learn the spell, we would be one step closer to stopping les Morts. I had to use Oliver’s magic.

I wet my lips, and before guilt could stop me, I said, “Sense for the spell on this corpse. Sum veritas. ” The magic curled over me, pleasant and warm, before sliding off me like smoke.

Oliver’s eyes flashed blue. Then he snapped them shut, and his brows drew together.

“Well?” I asked. “Can you feel it?”

“Give me a minute,” he growled. But it only took him a few seconds to begin nodding. “There’s something there . . . a faint trace of power around the ears and eyes . . . and the tongue.” His eyelids lifted, and, using the edge of the sheet, he eased open the corpse’s jaw.

We both leaned forward and peered inside. “The tongue is still there,” I said.

“Yes, but look at how slashed and swollen it is.”

“Is that not from all the chomping?”

Oliver’s head flicked once to the side. “No. It was cut. Drained of blood.”

I recoiled. “What does that mean, then? Can you recognize the spell?”

“I think I can, yes.” He straightened, and when his eyes met mine, they were winced with revulsion. “But it’s bad, El. Very bad. I . . . I think it’s a compulsion spell.”

That sounded familiar. I kneaded my wrist, trying to figure out why. Then I remembered. “You mentioned that on the boat, didn’t you? You said to control a person’s actions, you had to sacrifice body parts.” I looked down at the butler. “So this spell is meant to control someone’s ears and eyes and tongue?”

“Yes, what they see, hear, and say . . . but not just one person, El.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean there have been over seventy victims.”

The full weight of his words slammed into me, and I stumbled back. “Someone has cast seventy-

two compulsion spells.”

“Except . . .”—he waved toward the corpse’s head—“there are still traces of the magic on this body, which means the spiritual energy from this corpse has not yet been used. It’s still with the body —hoarded, almost.”

I scrunched up my face. “I don’t understand. How is that possible?” I took the sheet from his hands and replaced it over the butler’s face.

“It’s possible with an amulet—an object that holds a spell. The necromancer will build the spell over time, adding more and more spiritual energy to the object. Then one day when he’s ready, he leaves the amulet where he wants it to cast, he goes far away from the danger area, and then . . .”

Oliver’s hands spread wide. “He lets the spell release.”

“Blazes.” I swayed back on my heels. “So it’s an undetonated bomb.”

“Exactly.”

“Does this mean we are up against seventy-two amulets?”

“More likely we’re up against one amulet with seventy-two spells inside.”

“So if Joseph . . . or I wanted to stop it, could we?”

“Not easily. Possibly not at all.” He circled his hands on his temples. “Whenever this necromancer —or demon—finally decides to cast the spell, he’ll gain compulsion over seventy-two people.”

I hugged my arms to my stomach, feeling ill. “Seventy-two people?”

“That or a single person for—well, I would estimate at least seventy-two days.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple, really. A compulsion spell is only in effect temporarily. The stronger the necromancer, the longer the spell. If he wanted to control a person for an extended period of time, he’d need multiple spells.” Oliver swung his head side to side, his face grim. “But that’s not even the worst of it, El. A compelled victim won’t be able to tell when they’re possessed . . . and nor will we.”

It was only moments after Oliver explained the horrors of an amulet to me that a steward came to fetch me. Madame Marineaux had arrived and so I dismissed Oliver and met the Madame in my room.

Her visit was as wonderful as I had hoped. The perfect distraction to the thoughts—and fears—

roiling through me.

I had to tell Joseph about the amulet and the compulsion spells. I also had to figure out what I would do—what Oliver and I would do—as soon as Joseph learned about the demon.

But all those worrisome thoughts faded into the background the moment Madame Marineaux arrived. We drank delicious French wine on my balcony and talked about the ball the next evening, the places I wanted to see, and . . . well, I could not remember precisely what else. The wine must have clouded my head at that point. Either way, I awoke the next morning feeling alive, alert, and ready to take on the day.

I could face Joseph. I had to face Joseph, and in the end, wouldn’t I rather the truth come from me than from Jie?

However, as I descended the main stairwell, my jaw set and my stride determined, I was accosted by outraged bellows from the floor below. My resolve instantly shattered.