CHAPTER 13: THE DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

Picking up the book, Vincenzo asked Anneliese, "What did you wish for?"

This time, Anneliese said aloud for him to hear, "A book that belongs to me could just magically appear!"

"A book that belongs to you," Vincenzo repeated in a thoughtful tone. Coming to where Anneliese stood, he brought the book forward for her to take and noticed her hesitation. Seeing the unsure look on her face, Vincenzo said,

"Two things you need to remember: One – there is no winning when you live in fear of what might happen. Two – no one other than the two of us can know about this. No matter the circumstances, you cannot tell a soul. Understood?"

Anneliese nodded slowly, but her mind spun with doubt. What have I gotten myself into? Am I really supposed to keep a magical spell book secret from everyone I know?

"Now, take the book. Let’s see if you can open it or not," Vincenzo said.

Anneliese frowned. "Open the book?"

Vincenzo explained, "It’s been said that only those who belong to the original lineage of the book’s creators can open the Book of Spells."

Anneliese replied, "But my parents are human, and we don’t have any connection with supernatural kinds!"

"First, let’s see if you can open it. Then we’ll talk about your family’s lineage. Take the book," Vincenzo instructed.

Anneliese took the book in her hands. Without pressing the blue stone like last time, she tried to flip the metal cover—but it wouldn’t budge. She turned to look at the red-eyed man, who was watching her with a flicker of amusement, like he’d found something more entertaining than his usual witch hunts.

"I can’t open it," Anneliese said, frustrated. "I told you, my parents are human. I have nothing to do with its lineage!"

Vincenzo’s gaze narrowed. "Then why does the almighty Book of Spells appear at your call?"

He paused, thinking to himself. Perhaps the book doesn’t respond to force—it listens to its possessor.

"Press the blue stone like last time," he said, "then command the book to open."

Anneliese moved to a wooden table and placed the book on it. She pressed the blue stone. The book began to glow with a soft blue light—just like her eyes had earlier, something Vincenzo definitely noticed. She glanced at him, and he gave a curt nod.

"Command the book," he said.

Anneliese looked back at the book, took a breath, and said,

"Book of Spells, I command you to open."

A moment later, the metal cover flipped over.

For several seconds, Anneliese couldn’t look away. The pages shimmered faintly, as though pulsing with dormant knowledge. Her heartbeat thudded in her chest. This is real. This is mine.

"You belong to the lineage of the witch or the fairy who created it," Vincenzo said beside her.

Ann turned her face and met his gaze, distressed. He continued,

"But fairies can’t lie—and you haven’t shown any traits of witches either. So we can’t say exactly how you’re connected to their lineage."

"I don’t understand," Anneliese whispered. "How is this possible? Am I adopted? Why has nothing ever happened before? And what am I supposed to do now?"

Vincenzo stepped closer. "First, we need to figure out how you can keep this book to yourself and learn from it. You’ll be a great help to the Conclave in discovering what the Dark Witches are conspiring—and how we can stop them."

Anneliese bit her lip. This was all too much. A few days ago, she was just a human girl living her life in peace. Now she was holding a book of forbidden magic, possibly linked to a bloodline she didn’t even know existed. How is this my life now?

Vincenzo’s tone softened, though the danger in his words remained.

"Let’s make a deal. You learn the language of this witchy spell book and practice witchcraft—skills that might be necessary later. In return, I won’t reveal your little secret to anyone. And I’ll help you find the answers you’re looking for."

He paused to let that sink in.

"Do we have a deal, Ms. Riddle?"

What choice did she really have? She was tied, quite literally to magic she didn’t understand.

Anneliese stared into his red eyes, weighing her nonexistent options.

"Do I have another choice, Mr...? Wait—you never gave me your name. I need to know who I’m making a deal with."

Vincenzo’s lips curled into a smirk. "That means we have a deal."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he chuckled, finally answering,

"I’m Enzo. I work for the lord of the Versimoil Kingdom."

Most of the commoners in that kingdom had never seen the elusive lord, and Anneliese didn’t belong to the kingdom—so she had no idea that Enzo was the lord himself. He could have told her, but where was the fun in that? She was his latest amusement, and he wasn’t ready to scare her away. Not yet.

Anneliese tilted her head.

"Ohhh, you work for the lord!" Then she asked, "Are you going to tell him about our deal?"

"Not for the time being," he replied. "Let’s just keep it between us for now."

Anneliese nodded slowly, then perked up with a trace of enthusiasm.

"So... where do we start first?"

"Meet me in the restricted forest, the day after tomorrow—where I killed the witch," Vincenzo said.

Her eyes narrowed. "What for?"

He clicked his tongue. "Let me make this clear—you will be the one commanding the book, and I will be the one commanding you, considering I have the upper hand in this little situation of yours, remember?"

Anneliese hummed in reluctant agreement. "Fine. I’ll meet you in the forest, day after tomorrow at noon."

"Now, close the book and hand it to me. I need to return it to its place in the Conclave’s building," Vincenzo said.

Anneliese frowned. "Can’t I just command the book to return itself to where it was?"

"You could," Vincenzo said, "but we can’t be sure it’ll return to the exact spot. That kind of slip could raise suspicion—possibly leading to your interrogation by the High Conclave. And we don’t want that, do we?"

Without another word, Anneliese handed him the book. Bowing slightly, she said,

"I should get going now. And... thank you for not killing me. Goodbye."

Vincenzo watched her leave in silence. Moments later, his cat appeared beside him. He offered his arm, and Oscar leapt gracefully onto his shoulder.

"Good job, Oscar," he murmured with a sly smile.

Vincenzo turned toward the shadows of the corridor, the book clutched lightly in his hand. The real hunt, he knew, was just beginning.