Page 30 of Heart of a Witch
I guessed Victoria was out the window. “Who is that?” I looked around to see inside. “Is he not well?” The stench of ammonia lingered in the carriage air. “Is that opium I smell?”
The boy muttered something unintelligible. Elijah glared at him, then looked back at me, tight-lipped. “It’s my brother.”
I blinked twice. “I can help.”
“Really, there’s no need.”
“Please.” I moved Elijah out the way, inviting myself in. If I was going to save us from this awkwardness, I would go along with it. I doubted he’d be at the club later, so my plan to not show up went out the window. On the upside, perhaps I’d see his home. More importantly, maybe I’d even see his father. “I’d hurry if I were you,” I said as he stood at the open door. “People may see.”
He relented, running his hand through his blond hair, tousling it. He closed the door and took the seat next to his brother. “You really didn’t need to do this.”
“I know a great remedy that can help him,” I explained before he could stop me. “It’s a mixture my brother taught me.” I left out the part how I’d had to use it the few times Cas had taken too much. Opium was all the rage, but it was dangerous. I could feel it in my gut, no matter how many people tried to say it was safe. “What’s his name?”
“It’s Corbin.”
“I’m going to help you, Corbin,” I said with promise to the semi-conscious boy. He appeared to be around Alex’s age. I saw something soften in Elijah’s hard gaze, and I knew I’d done the right thing.
Elijah pulled Corbin into the house with the help of several servants, all of whom seemed immune to seeing Corbin this way. I assumed it was a common occurrence. Every family had its black sheep, I supposed, though my family was full of them.
“Where’s the kitchen?”
Elijah pointed down the hall, toward a corridor.
I nodded, heading there.
“We will be upstairs, in the second bedroom to the right,” he called after me, and I couldn’t help but notice the worry lacing his words. Caution swallowed his gaze as he watched me turn down the corridor.
I noticed the portraits and stopped in front of one of Damian, in his youth with far fewer scars. I glared into the eyes on the painting, my heart sinking into my stomach the more I stared. A single tear fell down my cheek, and I caught it on my wrist. “You,” I whispered as I examined his face, recalling the way he had squeezed my sister’s heart in his hand until her blood spilled through the cracks in his fingers. She was dead, buried in some unmarked grave like the other witches. No longer would she come to my room to play with Ebony and Buttercup or listen to me play the violin. Never again would we walk through the forest and find flowers to add to her pressed flower collection. She would never make another perfume again or get to live out her dreams. She was gone, and I couldn’t pull her back from death. It was permanent, and I hated it. I could scream until my voice went dry and tear down every painting in this house. I’d burn it to the ground and dance in the ashes, then when Damian found me, I’d tear out his heart and force it down his throat.
“Excuse me, miss, are you lost?”
I turned slowly, curling my trembling lips behind my teeth. I had to rein my anger in.
I swallowed hard. “I’m looking for the kitchen. I’m a friend of Elijah’s.”
She gave me a look, as if she presumed as much, then led me down the corridor. I didn’t look back at the painting in fear I’d burn it with my magic.
“I need, um, some herbs.”
“I’ll show you to the pantry.”
I followed her closely, forcing the imagery of Damian from my mind. My hatred for him would swallow me whole if I wasn’t careful. Even if it was alluring. Some days I wanted to give up, to let the darkness in and allow myself to shrivel into nothing until I didn’t have to feel anything again. If it weren’t for my rage, and Alex and Cas, I was certain that was exactly what I would have done.
Revenge was the driving force keeping me from tipping over the edge into nothingness.
I refocused. I had to gain Elijah’s trust and help his brother. I found the herbs and gathered them in a wooden bowl. Cas was the one who had come up with the spell I’d place on the herbs. In fact, almost all the “remedies” in his apothecary shop at home were infused with magic. It was his favorite part of being a witch, being able to use magic to heal others. The magic in the remedies was in so small amounts it would only last in a human’s body for a few hours, but it was enough to heal. Like Ember, Cas was inherently good, if not a pain in the ass with his vices, but then we all had those.
I crushed the feverfew, chamomile, catmint, dill, and sage, which would mask the magic from detection, and added them to clover oil. I took the mixture to an empty bathroom, locking the door behind me, and whispered the incantation over the bowl. “In our goddess Estia’s name, take what is not of him and break it down, remove it from his body before he is bound. Loosen the coils of what ails him, and let him wake without feeling too grim.”
I felt the energy pulsate through me and into the mixture and smiled. I quickly left the bathroom, finding my way to the second bedroom at the top of the staircase, where Elijah sat at Corbin’s bedside. “Here.” I gave him the bowl. “Pour it all in his mouth. It will help the opium leave his body quicker.”
“He may choke.” Fear danced in his eyes. I could see it as plain as day; his brother was his weakness. I understood that. Ember had been mine until she wasn’t.
“He won’t. Give it to him,” I urged.
He hesitated before he opened Corbin’s mouth, and he wrestled back, but Elijah was stronger. He poured the mixture down Corbin’s throat, and as I promised, he didn’t choke—only gagged. “How long will it take to work?”
“Not long. Maybe an hour.”
