I asked, leaning over his shoulder.He turned to face me holding a brown, leather-bound book. It surpassed antique in appearance; well-worn on the edges, with a strange branded seal on the front cover.“It’s the Naissance de Demoniac. The Bible of Hell,” he said in a whisper.“Why is the Bible of Hell in Jack’s safe?” I said, stunned.“Each of the patricians of the hierarchy of Hell has one. This one belongs to Shax,” he said, eyeing the black brand in the center. “I don’t want to know how Jack got his hands on it, but the fact that both of our names are on the account here tells me that he knew I would go against his wishes, and once I did, we would need this.”“Need it for what?”“To barter for the only thing Jack would be willing to hand this over for: Your life.” His expression was tortured, as if the guilt was crushing him.“Jared….” I said, reaching out to him.He pulled away and emotion disappeared from his face.His rejection fueled my irritation. “Are we going to leave it here or take it with us?”
