Chapter 309 Ava: Grimoire's Plans

Ignoring Sister Miriam's curious stare, I dart for the cupboard where Grimoire's resting.

I rush to the cupboard, my fingers tingling as they make contact with Grimoire's supple leather cover. The moment I touch him, his mental shouts pierce my mind like a blast of thunder.

"Grimoire, for the love of all that's holy, quiet down!" I wince, pressing my free hand to my temple. "Speak at a normal volume before you shatter my mental eardrums."

The roaring stops abruptly. Through our bond, I sense an almost sheepish energy emanating from the book. He clears his mental throat.

You've been wasting time theorizing when you could have just consulted with me, Grimoire says, sounding far too condescending for someone who was screaming at me to notice him.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Now you tell me."

"Ava?" Lucas's voice cuts through our conversation. I turn to find him frowning at me, confusion etched across his face. "What's going on?"

I take a deep breath, suddenly aware of how bizarre this must look to him and Sister Miriam. "I'd like you both to meet someone." I hold up the book. "This is Grimoire. He's... well, he's a sentient magic book. And apparently, he has some thoughts on our current situation."

Sister Miriam's eyes widen, a spark of fascination igniting in their depths. She steps forward, hand outstretched. "Fascinating. May I?"

Before I can warn her, her fingers brush the cover. A bright spark erupts between them, and she yanks her hand back with a hiss.

Tell the bloodsucker to keep her hands off me, Grimoire's voice echoes in my mind, indignant.

My lips twitch. "He doesn't want to be touched. He called you a bloodsucker. I don't think he's very friendly."

I'm very friendly, he snaps. When I want to be.

Sister Miriam's lips curl into an amused smile. "Well, he's not wrong. Though I prefer the term 'vampire'

table, I keep my hand flat on the cover as I sit next to Lucas once again. "Okay, Grimoire. You've

Think of it as a defense mechanism. The human mind couldn't process the raw, ancient power the wolf tapped into. So

do we break down the

bomb,

I

"With a what?"

"What did

relay Grimoire's words quickly before pressing my hand more

with disdain. A magical one. A surge

still a part of his personality. Not just a cuddlebug puppy

mean it like that. The way he backpedals would be amusing if I

their expressions shift from confusion

sounds dangerous," Lucas says,

leans forward, her eyes gleaming with interest. "It's not entirely without precedent. Brute force is often used when finesse

she's not entirely useless, Grimoire says,

'magical bomb' do? And

a pause, and I can almost feel Grimoire considering his words. It would be a concentrated burst of magical energy, focused on breaking down the mental barriers. The risks...

dreading the answer. "Worst

barriers. It could fragment

words, feeling my brief rising

to break the silence. "So, it's either get my memories back or become a vegetable?

gradual approach. Instead of a bomb, think of it as a slow erosion. We could use magic to

sounds better," I say, hope rising in my chest. "What's the

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