Page 45 of A Drop of Anguish
“Bring a jacket next week, got it. Thanks for the warning.” He holds up a thumb and flashes a goofy grin.
I roll my eyes. “You’re a wolf. I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine.”
“I’m a wolf born in a warm climate.”
“You’re from Tennessee, not the equator.”
He shrugs.
“As I was about to say, my new set will include an expeller and a stunning potion using amiximide. My parents have put in an order of double vials for me.”
He looks impressed. “You have a lot of connections, you know that?”
I nod as I cork the final nullifier vial. My invisibility potion is the last brewing. “Yeah. I was a spoiled rich kid growing up, and honestly it was a shock when I realized my real place in the supernatural world. Maybe that’s why I’m so bitter about it.”
In some ways, my lack of power may be a good thing. If I had strong magic, I might have been a complete bitch. As it is, I know what it’s like to be considered less than, so I’ve got some perspective. Even so, Thompson is right. I’ve been super lucky.
“And why I thrived in those snooty human boarding schools.”
He chuckles. I won’t pretend like I’ve always done the right thing when it comes to treating those with less, but like most of us, I’m a work in progress. I don’t want to make anyone else’s life harder, and I do my best to limit the pain I cause.
A loud banging noise makes me jump. Someone pounds on the lab door.
“Candice? It’s me.”
My jaw drops. The low voice is strained but familiar.
My gaze turns to Thompson, whose eyes are wide and full of panic. “He won’t hurt you,” I tell him. “I won’t let him.”
Thompson doesn’t look convinced.
I march over to the door and open it only a few inches.
Jarron’s face is gaunt. His hair and clothes are wrinkled and twisted wrong.“Can we talk?”
I bite my lip. “I’d like to talk to you, but—” I glance over my shoulder then back. “Can you control yourself?”
Jarron winces, and I wonder if it was the wrong choice of words. But then, he nods. I hold open the door.
Jarron takes one step in, notices Thompson, and freezes. The hair on my arms rises.
“Hey,” I warn, finger pointed at the demon prince. “No demon-y frost. You’ll mess up my potions if you change the temperature.”
Jarron’s lips flatten ever so slightly. “Sorry,” he mutters.
Thompson is shocked still. He hasn’t even blinked.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Jarron says without inflection. “I wanted to thank you.”
I blink. He’s talking to Thompson.
Jarron’s chest rises and falls with heavy breath. Nothing about him is relaxed, and it has me on edge. His words are kind, but I’m not convinced that Jarron is okay.
Thompson’s lips remain parted. He doesn’t respond.
“You protected her when I didn’t. I’ll never be able to repay that debt.”
Thompson leans back, his jaw tight. “I’m not sure I did a good enough job.”
