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Couldn’t she conjure it up again in her cauldron from Hell?
Maybe it was something priceless. But what was priceless to a witch?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kellan
My body relaxed as I sunk into the chair across from Ernest and closed my eyes. I’d needed that second away from Josephine. I had too many things bouncing around inside.
The good, the bad and the ugly.
It felt raw and built in my stomach like a cement heart.
Her taste. The smell of her skin.
I wasn’t one to believe in soulmates, but this was other-worldly. This was magic. The kind that blinded you from making logical decisions. The kind that pushed you toward whatever would get you closer to someone.
Never mind the consequences of your actions.
They are safe.
And that scared me the most. The unknown of what I would do to protect her. Lunge at a demon or let Deidamia into our realm.
Ernest cleared his throat after several minutes of silence, and I was thankful for it. I didn't want to drown in my own thoughts. “You believe me now?”
I peeked one eye open as he rested his interlaced fingers over his belly and waited for an answer.
“Perhaps I believe you more than before, but I’m not sure what I’m doing. That is a little girl in there.”
Ernest chuckled. “She’s grown, Kellan. She’s just not hundreds of years old and as wise as you are. You forget, not everyone is doomed to living forever.”
“I don’t need reminding, thank you.”
Ernest tilted his head, a twinkle in his eyes. “What do you suppose we do?” he asked. “Deidamia is watching us. There is no use in running right now. We need a plan to stop her.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know anything about Deidamia other than she eats people to survive, and someone stole something from her. She let me go last time. I didn’t escape. This time I caught her off-guard by showing up. I don’t know how to kill her.”
Ernest pursed his lips. “Maybe we don’t.”
“How on Earth do we defeat her without killing her?” I asked. “She can travel from realm to realm. Unless you decide to take her magic and trap her—”
Ernest sat up and pointed his crooked finger at me. “That ... is an excellent idea.”
I sat up slowly, silently checking his pupils to make sure he was still here with me. “Do you know how to accomplish that? Fern seems to think you use your magic for good—”
Ernest sighed heavily. “I’m a fae, not a witch. My magic is used for good things because I choose that for myself. Deidamia’s magic was given to her by someone evil. I was born with my powers.”
“So, Deidamia’s powers can be taken because she wasn’t born with them. What did she do? Make a deal with the devil?”
Ernest’s old gaze settled on mine. “More or less, son.”
A dark shiver worked its way down my spine. I knew she was terrible, but I didn’t realize she’d given away so much for the life she has now.
I sat back in the old chair, stretching my legs out wide with my mind running crazy. “How do we take it away, and I think a better question to ask is: what was taken, and why is it so important?”
Ernest stroked his long beard. “Give me a cookie and I’ll tell you.”
I jerked, forgetting the elf was in the house. Ernest had him in a small pet carrier, which made me laugh. “I’m not giving you anything,” I said. “Tell me or you die.”
