Page 25 of A Drop of Anguish
“I’m not even admitting I have an agenda.”
“But you’re not denying it either.”
He smiles as he stands and approaches his potion. He studies it for a moment, breathes in deeply.
“Feel anything?”
“It feels… like it doesn’t like me.”
I laugh.
Without my bidding, he grabs his last remaining ingredient: a vial of liquid ash. He pulls in another deep breath, as if unsure and trying his best to figure out the right move. I wait, wondering if he’ll do it all on his own or if he’ll wait for me.
Carefully, he tilts the vile to let one small drop fall into the liquid with a tiny splash.
I purse my lips. “Maybe too small?”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Should I put another?”
“No, that’ll be too much. Next time, try for a larger drop.”
He nods.
Even so, the potion begins bubbling, oozing up with a light-blue foam. He leans in eagerly.
“Still a bit light,” he says. “Rebecca’s was like a royal blue.”
The foam rises, nearing the edge of the cauldron, then settles back to a simmer.
“Did I do anything else wrong?”
“No. It’s close. That’s probably a passing grade as it is.”
“Barely. And it was with your help.”
I nod. “Try again. I bet you can repeat that success on your own. Then, try again. Listen to the potion. Feel the air and how it changes. It may take a few more tries to really get it right.”
“Should I do it again now?”
“I’ll be here for at least another hour, so you’re welcome to try again if you want.”
His chest puffs out with determination. “All right. Let’s do it.”
11
The Devil’s Return
The lunchroom is buzzing, and when I walk in, all heads turn to me. That’s become my norm, though, so I don’t notice that something is very off until I’m halfway down the aisle toward my table.
The room hushes, and the weight of overwhelming power settles over me, tensing every muscle. My next breath comes out in a puffy white cloud.
Like drawn to a magnet, my eyes drift straight to his. The most handsome face I’ve ever seen. Golden bronze skin over sharp cheekbones and eyes so black they’re like staring into a void.
His hair is longer than even just a few weeks ago, dipping into his lashes.
My blood runs cold, but I keep walking slowly toward the demon prince I was starting to think would never return to this school.
He watches me intently, with an expression I couldn’t begin to describe. It’s nearly empty. I’m not sure I could tell there was a massive amount of emotion behind the blank stare if I didn’t know him so well. Or if I couldn’t feel the pressure of his magic like a blanket over my shoulders.
