Free The Necromancer's Grimoire by Annmarie Banks

The sounds outside the door implied that Montrose was not pleased to be denied entry.
    Corbett glanced at the door. “Not much time.” He turned back to her, his eyes fierce. “This is a private negotiation.” He tipped his head toward the sounds in the corridor. “Do you understand?”
    â€œThat door is going to come down,” she smiled grimly. “Be quick.”
    â€œMy offer is behind that door. You spoke of healing his hurts. Perhaps he would speak to his brother and beg forgiveness for his guilt. Once you have learned to raise the dead, you may speak to whomever you please. Raise my man, then raise his.” His gray eyes were intense as he tempted her with one more argument. “You will learn the secrets of the ancient Persians and the Egyptians, who had knowledge of life and death.”
    The door shook on its frame. Bits of dust and some plaster sifted to the floor. They heard Derrick’s voice raised. Nadira stood, pushing the bench from the table. “Tell them to open the door.”
    â€œAnswer me first. Swear. I offer you knowledge of heaven and hell. You have tasted the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. Eat now from the Tree of Life.”
    â€œI will.” The idea was intoxicating. If she could bring Richard to Montrose he may give up his need to find Massey and kill him. He would find peace instead. She thought about such knowledge. It was irresistible. She winced as another blow threatened to alarm the entire inn. “But I will not swear. You must take my word, or no.”
    Corbett raised his voice, “Come!”
    The door burst open with a sharp bang against the wall. Montrose strode to the table before Corbett could even rise from his bench. She looked up at his fury; his bloodshot eyes and wild hair told her something terrible had happened.
    â€œI am here, my lord,” she murmured. He answered not at all, but tried to steer her toward the door with a hand on her arm. “No. Stop.” He stopped. She heard all he would not say in the sound of his heavy breathing. “I will accompany you, my lord,” she said slowly. His hand loosened, then dropped to his side. She nodded.
    Corbett stood and bowed with a courteous flourish of his hands. “After you, dear lady.”
    She tipped her head with grace and moved past the men in the doorway and through the corridor, her lord at her side, glaring. When they had progressed from earshot she said, “You must learn to trust that I will always return to you.”
    â€œI no longer trust those knights.”
    â€œWhy not? They saved us. They have no reason to harm us.”
    â€œBecause I have just learned from William that they seek another book. One that is more dangerous than the  Hermetica . I believed we were hunting plants. That is what I was told.”
    She stopped him. “My lord. Tell me true. Have you not, for these last long ten years, been seeking ‘another book’? Have you not been a book hunter? Is it not what you do?”
    He let his breath out in a long sigh. “Richard was the book hunter. They have brought me nothing but grief. No more books.”
    â€œYet you agreed to come to Constantinople.”
    â€œIstanbul, Nadira. The Turks renamed the city.”
    â€œIstanbul, then. You said you would come. You said you did not want to go home to England.”
    He did not answer, though she saw the war of words on his face.
    She urged him to continue along the corridor. “Did you frighten William when he told you?”
    He set his mouth in a line that suggested he regretted something.
    â€œMy lord…Robert,” she shook her head. “It is a book, yes. It contains information, like any book. I am Nadira the Reader. It is what I do. Do you not see?”
    She looked up to see if he did. He pushed their door open. “I do.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œYou will go nowhere without me. I will not surrender you to the White