Page 71 of Bewitched By the Djinn
I drum my fingers on the countertop. “Chaos is a ladder.”
“I suppose that’s true. But what does he want that he can’t already achieve with his proximity to the throne?”
I shrug, then double over, clutching my middle.
“Cassie! Are you okay?” Delores is at my side instantly, a gentle hand on my back.
Black spots swarm my vision. Damn. This is not the charged arousal I’m used to. This is actual physical agony, like when we were too far apart. “Bennet,” I manage to choke out.
Panic claws at my throat. What if he’s hurt? What if one of the ifrit came into the house and took him, and he can’t fight back because of this—this bond that keeps twisting tighter?
The pain recedes suddenly, like a balloon deflating.
And then Bennet appears in the doorway, his grip white-knuckled on the frame. “There you are.” Relief bleeds into his voice.
“You felt that?” I ask, still breathless.
“Yes.” His chest rises and falls heavily. “Our bond is strengthening. Helen wants to see if she can break the curse.”
“Now?”
“Yes. The sooner the better. Then you can go home to your family, and we can make plans to return to Aetheria.” His voice is measured and calm, his expression carefully blank.
Something inside me screams in protest. But no. That’s not right.
This is what we wanted, right? To break the curse. To go our separate ways.
But as I follow him back to the sitting room, a hollow ache blooms where the scorching pain once resided.
Chapter
Nineteen
I can’t shake the strange achiness in my chest.
It doesn’t settle, even as I lower myself onto the same couch as before. Bennet sits beside me, close but not touching, his hands in his lap.
Helen stands in front of us, her expression focused. Power hums in the space around her, the air growing thick and charged.
She lifts her hands, her fingers moving through the air like she’s weaving something invisible. “I’ll need you both to stay still.”
Bennet doesn’t move. Neither do I, though my heart thuds a little harder.
The air shimmers around us, gold and violet threads of magic spinning into existence, wrapping around Bennet and me in a delicate web. It reminds me of the connections I saw when Bennet was doing breathwork with Jackie, the forces that link the world and everything in it.
The gossamer strands make contact, tingling where they touch my skin. It’s not painful or anything, it’s like the moment before a static shock, energy coiled and waiting to snap.
Helen’s brow furrows in concentration. She speaks words I don’t understand, her voice low and firm. The threads tighten, pulse, then?—
Nothing.
A flicker of unease crosses her face, but she smooths it away. She tries again, her magic pressing against the bond between Bennet and me, probing, searching for a weak point to unravel.
I shut my eyes and breathe, searching for that silent place inside. The awareness rushes over me, faster than before, and the bond throbs to life in my mind’s eye.
Is it getting larger?
The gold cord is brighter and thicker than before. Helen’s magic weaves around it, probing and poking.
