Chapter 39
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“We should check the rest of the caves,” suggested Hank when they got out of the hag’s cave. “Just to be safe.”

“No need, I didn’t feel anything from them,” said Erin. He had searched the entire area. There weren’t even objects inside them. Just stalactites and stalagmites.

“Well, then it is another three day trek back to the car. Let me just report,” they had taken the box with the finger bones. Andrew supposed that there would be DNA tests on them to see to which child they belonged to. They were too small to be belonging to anyone else.

The three waited as Hank made the report on his satellite phone. Then, the trek back began. All the while, Andrew couldn’t take his eyes off Hank’s backpack. He was so distracted, he brushed off Erin’s attempts to speak to him five times already.

After the final attempt, Erin gave up entire. Andrew didn’t understand what was so important. And he found that he didn’t care. There was a siren’s call that pulled him to the Grimoire. And he needed to answer it.

Andrew had nearly lost all hope, when, on the second day of their hike, Hank placed his backpack next to the others. He had used it as a pillow on the first day, but tonight, it was up for grabs.

The ginger saw Erin looking at him, and he smiled. He needed to appear normal, if he were to take the Grimoire. He needed just to look inside. Read a bit. Then, he was certain that his curiosity would be satisfied.

“Yes, Erin?” Asked Andrew when Erin kept staring at him.

“You have been out of sorts. You barely ate anything since we found that book,” Andrew considered his words. Had it really been like that? He couldn’t remember.

“Yes, well, I am just excited. I got a hag, shot at a wendigo. And, this place is beautiful. I guess I have been too caught up in sightseeing to notice if I was hungry,” Andrew smiled again. Erin went to Andrew’s bag and pulled out a packaged sandwich.

“Eat and come to sleep. You haven’t done that much, either,” Andrew vaguely remembered tossing and turning last night. His eyes constantly opening and searching out Hank and, more importantly, the backpack.

“Thank you,” Andrew took the sandwich and unwrapped it, placing the wrappings in the plastic bag they were using to store their trash. He took a bite and noticed that the taste was even more heightened than usual.

He could smell the ham much better. Furthermore, he noticed that it was getting slightly off. But, then again, the sandwich had been bought five days ago. The ketchup was nice and spicy, though. And, the bread had not gone moldy yet. All in all, it was a pleasant meal.

When he finished, he cleaned his hands and took his blanket and went to Erin.

“What did you want to ask me?” He snuggled to his boyfriend and Erin wrapped his hands around him.

“This is not the right place for it. I think I will wait for us to get back to the apartment,” Erin placed his head at the nape of Andrew’s neck and drifted off. Andrew closed his eyes too, but sleep didn’t take him.

When he was sure that Erin was sound asleep, he untangled himself from the vampire and made his way to the bags. He found Hank’s and rummaged in it until he took out the Grimoire.

He opened it silently and then was disappointed. It was empty. He flipped the pages, but found that there was noting inside. He sighed and ran his fingers over the edges of the book. Then, he took his hand back.

Andrew had cut himself on the edges. He cursed silently. What were the odds of telling agent Hawk that the blood had been there all along? Then, his head began to hurt.

The ginger bit the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from screaming. He breathed raggedly as knowledge poured into his mind. Of rituals that needed blood to function. Of spells that could cause blizzards and much more. Mary must have been pretty weak, as hags went, to not have used this type of knowledge.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw Hank frowning down at him.

“Now you’ve done it,” said the werewolf, and he took the book from Andrew’s hands. “You had no clearance for that.”

“Hank, I can explain…” began Andrew, but Hank silenced him with a glare.

“I will be reporting this,” snapped the werewolf. “You must have always had the ability to use magic, if the Grimoire called to you. Did it tell you all its secrets?”

Andrew nodded. He felt like he had centuries of knowledge stored in his mind.

“You will be writing down everything. I do hope you can type quickly enough. Because if not, you will have a lifelong prison sentence to do so,” Andrew nodded, shaken.

Yes, sometimes he could pretend that they weren’t holding anything over his head. But those moments of blissful ignorance were few and far between. The reality was that his life depended on his good behavior. And he had just screwed up.

Then, he got an idea. There was a spell in the Grimoire that made people forget things. His hand found Hank’s, and he spoke in an ancient, almost forgotten language. A single word, too quick for Hank to stop him. And Hank fell down on the ground.

Now, the Grimoire had supplied him with the information that the person who needed to forget had to wake up naturally. But, Andrew didn’t want to leave Hank on the snow. He stashed away the Grimoire and tugged Hank back to the man’s bedding by the fire.

Then, Andrew placed a couple of logs inside and went back to Erin’s side. This changed everything. He could say he now knew about spells from something that he had found in the antique store. It wouldn’t be too farfetched.

He could always say he had sold the other Grimoire already. Or, better yet, that he had dosed it with water and thrown it away. Yes, he could lie. And he could be a better help on the cases, from now on.

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