Page 99 of Witches of Dubious Origin
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“Zoe! Your eyes! Were you bitten by a vampire?” Agatha gasped as she walked into Miles’s office, where I’d been sitting alone, trying to process the events of the past few days.
When Mamie had disappeared, I’d shut down. Incapable of speech, I’d climbed into the back of the SUV, and other than the time I’d spent on the ferry, staring morosely out at the sea, where we did not see the ghost pirates, I’d slept all the way to New York. Tariq and Jasper had tried to talk to me, but I simply hadn’t had the reserves to talk about what had happened, what I’d learned, or what I’d lost.
I didn’t know who’d called Agatha—I suspected Claire—but I was grateful to have her here. My throat got tight and I let out a small sob. Agatha swooped across the room, sank onto the couch beside me, and swept me into a hug.
“It’s all right, Zoe,” she crooned. I rested my head on her shoulder and she held me and rocked me as if I were six instead of thirty-six. “You’ve been through so much and you’ve been so brave. I’m very proud of you.”
That was one of the many reasons why I valued Agatha.She was always there for me and she always knew exactly what to say. I let her comforting kitchen witch warmth wash over me like a balm.
When I felt as if the broken bits of me were slowly knitting themselves back together, I pulled back and met her warm brown gaze. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?”
Agatha cupped my cheek with one hand and said, “Not often enough.”
I laughed but then sobered and continued, “You’ve been a bonus mom to me all these years, and you didn’t have to be. Idon’ttell you often enough how much you mean to me. I love you, Agatha.” And for the first time since I was a child, I initiated a hug.
“Oh Lord, you are a vampire, aren’t you?” she cried, hugging me close.
Another laugh burst out of me and I leaned back and said, “No, I promise. I’m okay.” I gestured to the table in front of us where I’d placed the grimoire. “The book and I have developed a relationship. Yeah, there’s no way I can explain what happened without it sounding super weird.”
Agatha patted my hand. “Oh good, I love weird—”
“Zoe, I have your remedy.” Tariq entered the room with a determined stride that faltered as he took in Agatha and me sitting on the couch, clearly having a moment.
“Sorry.” He put his hand on his heart. “So sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No.” I waved him into the room. “Your treatment for my eyes is priority number one.”
He looked at Agatha, who nodded. “Come in, Tariq. It’s fine.”
Agatha rose from her seat and moved to a chair, letting Tariq take her place.
“Lean your head back,” he instructed. “These eye drops should work immediately.”
“Are they going to sting or burn?” I wanted to be prepared.
“No, they should feel soothing,” he answered. “I’ll put three drops in each eye and then I want you to close them for a few minutes.”
“All right.” I tipped my head, resting it on the back of the couch. I heard the door open and the footsteps of someone or multiple someones entering the room, but Tariq squeezed the dropper before I could glance up. I felt the liquid when it hit. I didn’t blink or flinch and when he was done, I just closed my eyes, letting the solution settle.
“Is she—?” a woman whispered and I recognized the voice as belonging to Claire.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just following Tariq’s instructions for my eyes.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t turn them a different color,” another female voice said. It was Olive. I knew because only Olive gave Tariq such a hard time.
“That only happened once,” Tariq said. His Nigerian accent got thicker as he defended himself.
“Now, now, we’re not here to bicker,” Miles said. “We need to catch Claire up on what happened.
I felt my lips curve up as I listened. After the past fewweeks, I’d come to understand that the staff of the BODO really were a found family, much like Agatha and I were, and I was a part of it. The certainty of this made me feel warm inside, much like my magic did.
“Yes, I’m eager to hear everything, but first I need to follow up,” Claire said. “Jasper, what has happened to the Viking being held in the Lively tomb?”
“It’s sorted.” His voice was a deep, rough rasp that made my insides flutter.
“How?” Claire asked.
