Page 46 of A Drop of Anguish
Jarron shakes his head. “You did more than was expected. More than you should have had to.”
Thompson blinks rapidly. “All right,” he says. “You’re welcome?”
I smirk, though it fades quickly. “Something you wanted to talk about?” I ask Jarron casually.
“Yes.”
I pause. He doesn’t continue. My gaze darts between the two males. Jarron doesn’t seem intent on continuing the conversation right now, but this awkwardness is too much for me to continue my work.
“I’ll be done in about five minutes,” I say, looking down at my vials lying in a pile on the counter. These are my most precious cargo. I can’t just toss them in my bag. I have to organize the compartments to make sure everything is snug and in its place. Mixing up potions could be disastrous. I look back at the very tense supernaturals. “Maybe you should wait outside?” I say to Jarron. I can’t very well ask Thompson to leave when he’s been with me for days now.
Jarron lifts a brow.
“No,” Thompson says, hopping to his feet. “I can leave. You’ll walk her back to Minor Hall?”
Jarron nods solemnly. “Please consider me an ally. If you need anything…”
Thompson’s eyes light up.
I narrow my eyes at his reaction, but I shake those thoughts away for now. Everything everyone does in the supernatural world has deeper motives, it’s not unusual, but there’s no point in speculating just yet.
Thompson nods. “Thank you.” Then, he slips out through the door, leaving me alone with a very volatile demon.
I twist my lips and look down at my now empty cauldron. Then, I sigh and move to my next task of storing my vials. If Jarron is walking me back, then we’ll have plenty of time to talk.
Seeing me get to work, Jarron settles in on the bench Thompson abandoned and waits. I grab my new bag, which was delivered yesterday, and I’m super excited to try it out with all the new potions.
I carefully strap in three of my nullifiers into the tiny holsters. This backpack was sold as a makeup bag, but its real purpose is for witches. Or you know, humans who brew potions. There are only a few slots, though, and I have way more potions than it will hold. I put three vials of the nullifier in the smallest slots—this nullifier is only one hundred milligrams, like a tiny perfume size. My last stunning potion goes in the largest slot.
I consider my options for my last two. I still have several smoke, truth-telling, and invisibility potions. I select the invisibility and the smoke. Truth-telling, I put into a smaller makeup container. It’s important but unlikely I’ll need to use it quickly. This pouch is my best bet for emergency use. If I decide to use my truth potion, I should have time to unzip a few extra pouches.
Content with my work, I put the cauldron on the muting tray and decide to clean it out tomorrow. Right now, I’ve got a demon waiting for me.
I take another long breath and then turn to face him. His gaze flits up to mine the moment my attention is on him.
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, and is it just me or is his voice wobbly? “I’m so fucking sorry.” This time, his voice clearly breaks.
I swallow and look down at my feet. I don’t know how to deal with this Jarron. He’s always been so sure, so confident. He wasmycomfort. Am I even capable of giving it back?
He stands and approaches me slowly. His eyes are bloodshot. I don’t know if that’s new or if they were like that when he walked in. “I don’t think you’ll ever fully understand…” He pauses, eyes unfocused. “I don’t think you’ll ever know how much I hate myself for this. How much of a failure this makes me.”
I pinch my bottom lip. “Jarron, I don’t blame you.”
“It doesn’t matter if you blame me,” he barks. “I blame me.”
I wince. I don’t know what to say to this. What to do. I was a little mad that he dismissed me the way he did last week, but I didn’t want his help. Do I tell him that? Or will that only make this worse?
“Part of me wanted to prove myself,” I tell him softly. “Wanted to prove that I was strong enough to do it on my own. That I didn’t need a big strong protector. But I failed too.”
He shakes his head. “You didn’t fail.”
“Of course I did. I needed Thompson’s help, and I—” For some reason, I really don’t want to say I was bitten or hurt. Without even saying the words, Jarron’s gaze turns darker.
“You killed him.”
“No, I—”
“He died yesterday afternoon, and that was a mercy for him.” He clenches his jaw.
