Page 93 of Potions and Proposals
Benedict didn’t like how she shrugged when she said ‘should’; he wanted a bit more certainty before he consumed poison. Then again, with magic nothing was certain. Watching her scan her notes on the restoring potion from the grimoire, all he could do was put his trust in her.
“Your mum did what? Why didn’t you tell me?” He handed her a pot from beneath the kitchen sink, since he didn’t have a cauldron.
“I didn’t want you to think poorly of her. She was trying to protect both of us,” Lucinda said, taking out a glass jar containing blessed water from the coven temple.
“Is that why you wanted to do this here and not in the brewing room at yours? Because you’re avoiding Wilhelmina?” he pried, watching her simmer the water on the stove. Going against the High Priestess’s orders in her own home would only cause a bigger rift between mother and daughter. He hadn’t even thought the Hawthorne women could argue, and he didn’t like that he was partly the cause of it.
Watching Lucinda work, pride swelled in his chest as he saw how easily it came to her. Sure, he knew what he was doing with potions, but there was a dance in the way she sliced, chopped and measured out the ingredients that he’d never been able to master. The potion came together faster than he’d expected with a final puff of smoke. Once the boiling liquid had cooled, she filled two shot glasses from the cupboard with the finished potion.
“This should do the trick,” she told him, covering the remainder of the potion in the pot with a glass lid. “For you.” She offered him a shot glass.
“I suppose a Hawthorne potion got us into this mess, so it’s only right a Hawthorne potion will undo it,” Benedict said hesitantly, taking it. The liquid glowed midnight blue.
“We drink on three.”
He admired her courage. “Is it supposed to be that colour?”
“It’s just the powdered venom. Trust me.”
“One last question. We aren’t about to have aRomeo and Julietmoment, are we?” He winced, smelling the potion. It was sharp and pungent.
“Even if it kills us, I’m sure fate would find some way to bring us back together.” Lucinda winked, sitting on the kitchen island beside where he sat on the black barstool.
“Leaving our future up to fate doesn’t reassure me much.” He got up and stood between her legs; if he was going to be poisoned to death, then he wanted her eyes to be the last thing he saw. If there was one person he was willing to bet his life on, it was her.
“You drink this, and hopefully tomorrow when we wake up, you’ll have your fire back and I’ll be back to watering my flowers instead of scorching them.”
“And that’s all you’re worried about? Our elements?” Benedict asked, resting his free hand on her thigh. Her shoulders relaxed, and she settled her hand over his.
“We’ll also know if what’s happening between us is caused by the call in the potion or if our feelings for each other are real…” Lucinda stared up at him, confessing her insecurities.
“If this is what you need to be sure of my feelings for you, then I’m in.” He didn’t want her to doubt how much he had fallen for her for even a second longer.
“To us, then.” She clinked her glass against his, but her tightening grip on his hand revealed her nerves.
“To us.”
He tried not to laugh when Lucinda grimaced at the taste of the foul liquid, only to almost gag himself. A tense moment settled between them as they waited to turn green or stop breathing.
“Still alive,” Lucinda pointed out eventually. “Do you feel anything?”
“Try not to sound so surprised at the lack of our demise.” Benedict made a show of patting himself down and checked his pulse mockingly. “I don’t feel a thing.”
Lucinda took the empty glasses and dropped them into the empty sink along with the pot and remaining potion. She made the shattered glass and the pot disappear with a simple spell to erase what they’d done.
“Neat trick,” Benedict said, standing behind her to find his sink spotless.
“I hated doing the dishes when I was younger,” she admitted, turning to face him. “Pleased to see that you’re still gorgeous, and you haven’t sprouted wings or dropped dead.”
“I think there was a time when you’d have loved to see me drop dead.”
“Me? Never,” she said innocently.
“But I do think I need something to sweeten the aftertaste.” He took her in his arms, and she chuckled as he dipped her low and kissed her. Bringing her back up to standing, he smacked his lips. “Much better.”
She squirmed. “You’re intolerable.”
“Potion worked – you’re back to loathing me!” Even though he wanted his element back, he couldn’t imagine not being able to feel her presence every moment.
