Page 33 of Potions and Proposals
If her dad had known Emerson was coming, she was surprised he hadn’t called to warn her. Then again, he was off on a dig for a rare artefact, so they’d missed their last few weekly calls.
“There’s no hurry! Any delay gives me more time to see the town. I’m merely here to collect and assist at your leisure. If I’m being honest, I volunteered for the job. I studied the Forgotten text you discovered and translated last year… Sorry, I’m babbling. I’ve been excited to meet you.” He cut himself off, clearly embarrassed by his own outburst.
Lucy stared at him, taken aback. “I just translated it. Rosie tracked it down; she found the text in the desert in a forgotten tomb while searching for a different relic altogether. A happy accident. If it wasn’t for her it would’ve remained Forgotten.
She guessed that Emerson was somewhere in his early thirties. There was something gentle about his eyes that put her at ease. Even if he belonged to the Order who’d once hunted her kind – and still did, in certain circumstances – it looked like he’d spent most of his days studying. He didn’t seem like thehuntingtype. Then again, a witch could never be too careful.
“You can relax! You look like you’re about to pass out,” she said.
Emerson looked down at his white-knuckled grip and released the strap. “Rosie. Is she a witch?” he whispered, curiosity evidently getting the better of his manners.
“You don’t have to whisper. Witch isn’t a dirty word.” His eyes widened, and Lucy grinned. “But she isn’t.”
He waited for her to continue.
“Think more… claws and teeth,” Lucy explained.
Emerson swallowed. She got the feeling he hadn’t suspected that the soft-spoken, quirky young woman one floor below them could rip his throat out in a matter of seconds.
“Claws and teeth? You wouldn’t be talking about me, would you?” Rosie appeared, and Emerson flinched. Clearly, this was his first time in a refuge town around such creatures. Lucy rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to have to babysit him to keep himfrom becoming someone’s snack; she had enough on her plate. To avoid embarrassing him, though, she said nothing.
“This is your first time in a town like Foxford?” Rosie, on the other hand, had never mastered the act of subtlety.
Emerson scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve always wanted to visit and learn about the different…” He hesitated. “Cultures.”
Rosie circled him like a wolf stalking a lamb. “I was the same when I left my pack in the woods for the mysterious town beyond, but it was rather disappointing the first time I met a vampire.”
Feeling a morsel of pity for Emerson, Lucy hoped her friend wouldn’t get too much enjoyment from teasing him.
“My postman,” Rosie explained. “A balding man named Ted– or Theodore, back inhisday. He hadn’t drunk blood in over a hundred years. The only time he ever appeared even slightly frightening was when he chased a warlock through the town after he’d found him in a compromising position with his youngest daughter. By youngest, I mean fifty-six in vamp years.”
Lucy expected him to look frightened, but Emerson hung on to her every word. “And the…?” He pointed hesitantly to his teeth.
“The fangs? Nothing remarkable. They could be easily assumed to be magless canines, only a little sharper. Mine are far more impressive,” Rosie told him, before offering to introduce him to a vampire to show him the difference. He quickly declined.
“I’ve just arrived – I need to get settled first before I start meeting people.” Emerson looked like he was chomping at the bit to ask Rosie exactlywhatshe was, but it was terribly impolite to ask as a magless. It made magical folk feel as though they were nothing more than their species. To put him out of his misery, Lucy winked at her friend behind his back.
Rosie took the hint and extended her painted nails. Her eyes glowed a vibrant amber, telling him she was a werewolf.
“Wow, your eyes… I’ve heard how bright they can appear, but—” He struggled to finish, transfixed by the sight. Then his eyes dropped to her claws and he backed up slightly.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” Rosie said seductively, retracting her claws. Emerson smiled nervously, gripping his satchel once again.
“Let’s not frighten him off,” Lucy said. He seemed harmless, even if the people he worked for weren’t. She didn’t want him to get a bad impression of them – but at least he now knew how well-protected the library and what lay beneath it was. “What do you plan to do while I finish my work?” she asked, cutting right to the point.
“I can help you with research?” he offered, clearly eager to help.
“I’ve got the best researcher in the country,” Lucy said, gesturing to Rosie. She couldn’t have him looking over her shoulder as she studied up on curse-stripping potions.
“I could use an assistant, if you don’t want him.” Rosie batted her long eyelashes at Emerson, who stood a head taller.
If he’s not careful, he really will become her prey.But Rosie was the perfect person to keep him distracted.
“I’m not sure if we can trust him. The last email the order sent was rather threatening.” Lucy sharpened her tone to see how he would react. Maybe he’d reveal a harsher side when threatened.
“I’m only here to help; I’m sorry if our head office weren’t as understanding about the complexity of work such as yours,” he said, his tone assertive but apologetic. “I can explain to them that you require more time with the grimoire, but I will need to check that it’s still in your possession – just a formality, really.”
“The grimoire is sealed in our vault, and unfortunately magless aren’t allowed in. They’ve been warded for generations,” Lucy explained.
