‘To answer your earlier question, Bethan, yes, she did know the truth about your ancestry. She was the one who actually found it; within our home, you see, there was an underground cellar that not even we knew about. But she found it. Just like she found the key to unlock it.’

‘And once she did, you killed her. Then dumped her body in the Etruscans to throw everyone off your scent.’

‘Not quite, you see. We thought she was the one.’

‘The one to what.’

‘The one who could open it. The book. I mean, she found the Amulet of Pele, she found the grimoire. It had to be her who was the Kore witch. It certainly wasn’t your father. But when it came time for her to open it—she couldn’t. That’s when we decided she needed to meet her end.’

Edington grumbled, ‘You monster.’

Julius laughed as if Edington were a pathetic old man.

‘I don’t get why you had to kill her,’ Kellan growled, stepping forward.

Bethan reached to grab his arm, and he reeled back.

‘Do you honestly think Dana would let her precious little sister into our clutches? She would’ve been a problem. So, we decided to bide our time and wait for your powers to manifest. I was shocked when it turned out to be you; I really was.’

Bethan scoffed. ‘And why was that?’

‘We knew you were gifted academically, but your magic never showed any real signs of being anything more than average.’

‘You truly want the Blood Plague to happen, Julius?’ Edington asked. His entire face paled at Julius’s answer.

‘Why wouldn’t I rid the world of them?’

Bethan shook her head.

‘Kurai said that it wasn’t the vampires who started the Blood Plague; it’s the monsters your family created when you started taking humans.’

‘And where did you read that—’

‘The Antiphonus, Kurai left a little message for us. About you and your family. This home, your legacy, it belongs to me.’

A smirk plastered across Kellan’s face.

‘Not anymore, dear,’ he said, ‘not anymore. I suppose we should get started.’

Julius placed a hand on Edington’s shoulders. His face hardened when his eyes fell on him.

‘Haesit.’

Small magic swirled around Edington’s ankles and danced around his wrinkled lips.

‘No,’ Bethan yelled.

She knew that feeling. She knew it well. Clear memories of Tharin flashed before her, and something angry thrummed in her fingertips, wanting to burst free. Bethan knew what it was, her magic waiting to take over, but she had to protect the grimoire.

Footsteps came from the hall; she could hear Elnora’s and Sunni’s heels clacking on the floor toward them.

Bethan braced herself and prepared to finally give Elnora what she deserved for betraying their friendship. She clenched her fists around the grimoire.

Her heart sank.