Nazareth stood behind his counter, flipping through a thick book resting on the glass counter. Jayden sat with her legs draped over the arm of an overstuffed chair the elderly necromancer scrounged up from somewhere, reading through another book on folklore and legends, and Laci sat, cross-legged, on the floor, a thick book of mythology in her lap. Since Hekate visited Laci in the mind of the dead squirrel Sunday, the three remained glued to the store, searching book after book for some clue as to what the Darkness was to which Hekate referred, the matter of Duncan Underwood set aside for the moment.
Jayden blew out a frustrated breath, slamming the book she read closed. “Are you sure she said nothing else? I mean, she's a goddess, after all. What good is being a goddess if you can't figu
