Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5) by Bridgette O'Hare (best large ereader .TXT) 📕

“He seems . . .” I began.

“Like he’s not being forthcoming?” Cian finished my sentence.

“Nay. That would be you. Fine, him too.”

Cian feigned shock and laid his hand over his chest like he was offended, but then his stare grew serious. “Do ya really think I’m not being upfront with you?”

“Well . . . do ya really expect me t’ believe he’s a photojournalist who only travels the world t’ take pictures?” I challenged.

“Touché.”

“So, are ya going t’ tell me why he's really here? Is he also Davar Magén?”

Cian settled one leg on the corner of the desk and looked down at me with a snarky grin. “Depends. Are ya goin’ t’ tell me what you hid under the book there when we walked up?”

I thought for a moment, trying to decide if I should share anything about the weapon I had seen end his life. I had already told him more than he should probably know, but I had assumed he knew about the vision before he’d given it to me.

“So, that’s a no then?” Cian confirmed.

“It’s just . . .” I wanted to explain, but I wasn’t sure how. I watched the expression on his chiseled features soften with disappointment. That’s when I could almost hear Grams’ voice in my ear telling me to just spit it out, like she used to say when I was hesitating. I forewent the paper and slid the Keeper’s journal on the Tartaros Blade from beneath its hiding place. “Do you know anything about this?” I asked and handed it to him.

A noticeable tension tightened his jaw. “Aye.” He stared at the journal for several seconds. His eyes remained as immobile as the rest of his face. When his gaze returned to his usual softness, he looked at me with concern. “The question is, how do you know about it?” he asked—as if knowledge of the artifact was classified information and I didn’t have clearance.

“I didn't realize it was top secret,” I countered.

He glanced between me and the journal before opening it to the first page. To my surprise, it was blank.

“Well, there you have it. Looks like it is top secret.” He tossed the journal across the desk in my direction. “How did you find out about this?”

I glared down at the journal, contemplating my response. I did trust Cian, within reason. But a lifetime of keeping secrets was a hard habit to break. I had offered him an olive branch by sharing what I had hidden. I needed something in return. Trust is a give and take.

“Before I answer that, I believe we had a deal. I shared what I was hiding, now you share the truth about Kage. Is he Davar Magén, too? And is your brother?”

“Ahh . . . see, you only get one question. Tit for tat,” he asserted.

“We are going t’ have t’ stop this,” I contended with a heavy sigh. “We might not have much time, and this back and forth will get us no place fast.”

“What do ya suggest, lass?”

“A truth truce.”

He covered his mouth to stifle his amusement.

“Why is that funny? It was not meant t’ be funny.”

“I'm only laughing because a truth truce would mean we don't tell the truth, right? And I don't think that's what ya mean.”

“Well, if ya know what I mean, then I guess we're good. I like alliteration. And ya can stop laughing now.”

He didn’t stop laughing.

“I’m sorry, Aish. Truth truce it is.”

I steeled my eyes in his direction and furrowed my brow. He just winked then leaned over the desk to pick up the journal on the Tartaros Blade. “Ya sure are cute when you’re irritated,” he whispered before pushing back to a seated position on the corner of the desk.

And the tingling resumed. He hadn’t even physically touched me, and I was humming like a live wire. I tried to shake it off and get back on track.

“Let’s talk about this blade for a minute, shall we?” Cian stated as he opened the journal. “You see how it’s blank?”

I nodded.

“That’s because knowledge of this blade isn’t easy to come by. Do you also see how dusty the top of this journal is?” He brushed it off to the side. “That is because so few people have even heard of it, that no one has even pulled this thing from the shelf in probably a hundred years. So, does that help you understand why I wanted to know how you knew about this particular artifact? I know about it because the Davar Magén have a written record on it that is not empty. And that record is over a thousand years old. So . . . Aisling O’Cléirigh, I believe we need to discuss your sources.”

I pursed my lips and darted my gaze from one side of the room to the other then craned my neck to make sure no one was approaching through the stacks of shelves. I stood and walked around the desk, leaning against it next to Cian so I could speak more freely but quietly. “I saw it in a dream.”

He tilted his head and regarded me through focused eyes. “A dream?”

“Aye.”

“And you learned enough through this dream t’ search it out?” he questioned.

“Obviously.”

“Hmm. Is this something you do often? Dream of artifacts?”

“In the spirit of the truth truce . . . no. It’s not.”

A bright smile spread over his face, lighting his eyes. I made certain to maintain enough distance to keep the strange sensations at bay . . . for the moment.

“So, also in the spirit of the truth truce,” he laughed, “was there anything else in this dream that might be of importance or helpful?”

“Well, that depends. I also saw the Kanna Stone. I learned more about what it's capable of. And then there was a scroll. What do ya know about a scroll written in silver ink? And don’t tell me nothing, because I feel pretty confident that would be a betrayal of the truth truce.” I flashed