What a mess. I stepped inside to look around.

That was when I saw Abraham, lying on the cold cement floor. A pool of dark liquid seeped from under him.

“Oh my God.” My glass slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor. Spots began to spin in front of my eyes. I sucked in a breath, ran over and fell on my knees by his side.

“Abraham!”

His arms were wrapped tightly around his chest. Alive? Please, God, alive.

I was screaming, couldn’t help it.

“Abraham. Wake up.” I tried to pull him into my arms, but he was so heavy I couldn’t budge him. “Oh, please don’t die.”

I grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard before I realized that was a bad idea. I leaned over and held him close to me. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Oh God, I’m sorry, so sorry.”

I felt him stir.

His eyelids fluttered, and I almost fainted with relief. “Oh God, you’re alive. Thank you. I’ll get help. Don’t worry.”

He gazed up at me, his eyes blurry. He coughed, then muttered something.

I leaned closer. “What?”

“De-vil,” he whispered. His arms relaxed around his chest and his jacket loosened.

“What are you saying?”

He coughed again. “Remember… the… devil.”

A thick, heavy book slipped out from inside his jacket. I quickly snatched it before it slid onto the bloody floor. Instinct, I guess, ingrained in me from childhood. Save the book. I gaped at the faded black leather binding. Once-elegant gold tooling created a pale border of fleur-de-lis around the front edges of the cover, and each flower point was studded with bloodred gems. Rubies? Ornate but rusted brass clasps in the shape of claws held the book closed.

Goethe’s Faust.

My gaze darted back to Abraham. His lips trembled as he formed a slight smile.