Page 23 of Spellbound
“I make my own choices. I’m an adult. The legal drinking age is nineteen. I’m twenty.”
He leaned back in the chair. “You should tell Edmund that. I believe he still sees you as if you are a little girl.”
I rolled my eyes and drank back a swig of whiskey. It did burn, but I didn’t react. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. I exhaled what felt like fire, then placed the bottle in front of me. “How old were you when you found a body?”
“It was a long time ago.” He glanced down at his hands, which were clasped together. “It was my sister. She had been... decapitated.”
A shiver snaked up my spine, forcing me to shudder my shoulders.
“She was my favorite.” He half smiled, then sighed.
“Why? How did that happen?” I assumed she was murdered.
“I placed my trust in the wrong person.” His jaw clenched, and his nails dug into the skin on his hand. “It’s my fault.”
“I’m sure that isn’t true.”
“It is.” His tone sharpened. “Regardless, it was a long time ago.”
I pictured Viktor as a little boy, finding the remains of his sister without a head. I wanted to know more, but his expression told me not to ask. “How...” I paused, not sure how to word my next question. “Was the smell bad? Did it linger?”
He nodded, looking back at me. “Yes. Is it still in your nose?”
I breathed relief. “Yes. Was it for you too?”
“Yes. Every so often over the following weeks, I swear I could still smell her. Perhaps it was psychosomatic.”
“Maybe.” I swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry for snapping at you this morning. I’m glad you’re doing well with your spells. I was jealous.”
“That’s big of you to admit.”
“I’m not used to competition; that’s all.”
Smoke tinted the air. I breathed it in, glad for the strong smell. Rain pattered down against the window, heavying by the minute. “Did the caster come today to do the spell?”
“Yes.” His interest piqued. “They’ve begun it already, but according to Edmund, it could take weeks.”
I stared at everything and nothing, lost in numbness. “In the meantime, people will continue dying.”
“I believe so,” he said matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry, doll. Whoever’s behind this will get what’s coming to them.”
“I hope they get sent to the underworld to be tortured for eternity by Lucius.”
He chuckled, breaking the foreboding atmosphere. “I doubt the underworld is quite like that. I’m sure Lucius doesn’t have the time to individually torture every soul.”
“What makes you an expert?”
He shrugged. “Common sense?”
I couldn’t help but smile. At least he’d taken my mind off it for a second. “I should go to bed.”
“Good night, Elle.”
I loved the way my name sounded from his lips but hated how I liked it. He stood, then kneeled next to me. Leaning in, I parted my lips. His cologne reminded me of pine and rain. Closing my eyes, I could feel the heat emitting from his body. I opened them again as he smirked.
“I’ll be taking this.” He waved the bottle of whiskey in his hand.
“Right.” I cleared my throat. “The whiskey. Yes, take it.”
