I placed the jar onto the table and pulled out the stopper. A spoonful of powder went into a clay pot, followed by a cup of herb-laced tonic and a sprinkle of black salt. The liquid bubbled and frothed, emitting a fragrant steam.
Derrick read the label on the jar. “Rosenphyn? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Be careful with that.” I plugged the stopper into the container and moved it out of reach. “Rosenphyn is used to detect poison. It’s a little secret of mine. When I was younger, my mother never let me mix my own potions—something about her not wanting me to blow the roof off the shop—so, like any good witch, I went behind her back. It sounds silly, but I wanted to prove to her that I could create something useful.”
He was silent for a moment, giving me that look again. The one that made me think he saw through all of my bravado to the vulnerable witch beneath.
“That doesn’t sound silly to me.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t let me get to the part where I went a few months without eyebrows.”
He flattened his lips to keep from smiling, then wrinkled his brow. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make jokes at your own expense whenever you talk about your magic?”
I fidgeted with the spoon handle and dropped my gaze. “It saves someone else from having to make them, I guess.”
His inscrutable gaze returned, and I ducked my head, tugging the long strands of my hair to hide my flushed cheeks. There was a clog in my throat. I cleared it away.
“Anyways, the eyebrows grew back, and I eventually figured out the correct combination of ingredients. It works by altering the composition of the toxins. In their altered state, the mixture changes color, which can then be used to determine the type of poison present.”
“That’s incredible! Was your mother impressed?”
“No, um…at the time, I could only detect one type of poison, not a lethal one either, so it wasn’t very impressive. It took much longer to compile and test for other types—years, in fact. She was gone by then.”
He nodded, and his hand brushed lightly against my shoulder, hovering there for a second before he closed his fist and dropped it to his side. “Well, I’m impressed. It sounds like something that would be useful to the agency.”
“Useful only in the right hands. Meaning witches. Watch this.” Placing my palms over the bowl, I channeled my magic and spoke the incantation. The mixture popped and then settled with a slow hiss. It was ready.
“Unfortunately, rosenphyn is a deadly poison all on its own. Ingesting even a small amount can kill, which is why you should stay back. I’d hate to have to explain to your superior why there’s a dead detective on my shop floor.”
He eyed the potion warily. “I don’t know, that sounds an awful lot like an emergency. I’d end up in your basement.”
“Only until I can bury you beneath the garden shed.” I flashed him an innocent smile.
He wasn’t amused. “So, you developed a poison to detect a poison? Is that wise?”
“You tell me, Detective. Don’t you often have to think like a killer in order to catch one?”
“That’s different.”
“How so?”
Derrick’s jaw clenched as he struggled to answer. “You have to know what you’re doing.”
“Exactly. It boils down to experience. What is deadly in the wrong hands can be a solution in another’s. But don’t worry, you’re safe with me. I’m too tired to dig a hole.”
His comical expression was worth risking his wrath. I stifled a grin and reached for an ox hair brush, then dipped the bristles into the filmy substance.
He stilled my wrist. “That isn’t funny. This is dangerous, and I imagine highly illegal. I could—”
“I know, I know, you could have me arrested. Now, hand me the wine stem.”
Derrick scowled as he removed the lid from the wooden box and placed the wine stem on the table. “Be careful with that. I’d hate to have to explain to my superior why there’s a dead witch on her shop floor.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
