The letters softly glowed and pulsated like they were part of a living, breathing entity. I wanted to sink to my knees; a spell that powerful wouldn’t be easily broken. But I wouldn’t give up just yet. I searched for signs of an ambush. I was alone, except for a book.

My heartbeat slowed. This had to be the “it” Vittoria described in her diary.

When I set my attention on the book, the voices started again, softer, more enticing. I tentatively dropped my hands from my ears. I could hardly breathe. This was the secret my sister died to keep. I knew it deep down in my bones.

A single shaft of light illuminated the old, leather-bound tome lying closed on a pedestal carved from a solid chunk of obsidian. I’d never seen a gemstone that large before, and cautiously moved forward until I stood over the mysterious book. The voices quieted.

A triple moon symbol molded from pewter adorned the cover, but there was no title to indicate what it contained. It was definitely magical, given how much power emanated from its pages. Soft lavender light surrounded it. It reminded me of the luccicare I saw around humans, and was the same shade of purple as my tattoo. I didn’t know what it meant, but I had a very good idea of what it was—the first book of spells. Impossibly, Vittoria had found La Prima’s grimoire.

It was so plain, so simple. And yet, it had cost my sister so much.

I suddenly wanted to burn it.

It was no larger than any other old book, but the power was unlike anything I’d ever felt. The cover was worn in places where it looked like it had been opened and closed a million times.

Like the night I found my sister’s body, there was a silent, insistent tug in my center. This time, it begged me to open the book, to glimpse the spells I felt spilling from it. I slowly reached over, and flipped it open to a place that had been marked with a ribbon.

Familiar black paper with gold roots edged around the sides greeted me. I scanned the page—it was a summoning for the morning star. I shut the book and stepped away.

Someone had summoned the devil. Or wanted to.

I took a few steady breaths, mind racing. This was the mysterious grimoire my sister had torn pages from. Somehow her magic led her to the first book of spells, and then she’d removed spells to summon demons. I knew for a fact she hadn’t snuck this text into our tiny room, I would have felt it the moment it entered our home and so would Nonna, which meant Vittoria must have stashed it away here. But why would she think it’d be safe within the brotherhood’s walls . . . there was a connection, I just had to think.

“At last.”