“Yes,” Sabrina said, clearly biting back the urge to addasshole. “As I just said. In almost those exact words.”
“Then I have some good news for you.” Max’s cup rested on the floor by his feet, and he reached down to reclaim it. “After I poured out most of my own cider, I transferred half of Edie’s into my mug when she wasn’t looking, just in case you’d deceived us. Which you did.”
Standing, Max loomed over the Enhanced couple and pushed his mug into Sabrina’s hand.
His smile curdled into a sneer. “Drink it, witch.”
No one in the room objected. Even Sabrina’s longtime friends.
“Hey, vamp bro.” Kip was craning his neck to check the couch and its surroundings. “Where’d you pour your cider? There’s not, like, a potted plant near you or anything.”
Max never took his eyes off Sabrina. “Consider that a delightful mystery for you to solve, Kip. Later. Once our interrogator gets a literal taste of her own medicine.”
“Fine.” Expressionless, she tipped the mug and swallowed the remnants of Edie’s drink. “Now what?”
Lorraine crunched on a burrata-topped bruschetta of mysterious provenance. “Now we wait roughly, uh”—she glanced at her cousin, who held up ten fingers, since his mouth was full of bruschetta goodness too—“ten minutes? Ten minutes. And then we start asking questions.”
So they waited, steeping in awkward silence all the while. But at least Gwen was no longer shrinking away from Max whenever he glanced in her direction, and Kip and Lorraine had stopped studying him with fascinated horror, like visitors at a zoo’s tarantula exhibit. The Girl Explorers appeared entirely indifferent and unconcerned with his presence, as they always had.
Getting a handle on Starla’s state of mind proved more difficult, because the telepath had focused her entire attention on Sabrina. The women were deep in conversation, murmuring to each other while the witch gently rubbed circles on her wife’s back. Which was, in fact, the exact same thing Max’s hand was currently doing between Edie’s own shoulder blades.
She had to wonder whether either Max or Sabrina had caught the irony yet. Whether they’d recognized how closely they mirrored each other in what they were doing and their reasons for doing it. Probably not.
Starla’s gaze flicked in Edie’s direction. When their eyes met, the telepath tipped her head toward her wife, then toward Max, and winked. Edie bit back an answering grin, whereupon the other woman resumed her conversation with Sabrina.
Before this cluster of unfortunateness ended, Edie intended to get Starla’s number and email address. Clearly, the two of them hada lotto discuss.
Lorraine pounced as soon as the ten minutes were up.
“So, Sabby…” Sitting back in the love seat, the troll swallowed her final bite of fig and chevre pizza. “Before we go into battle with you, what should we know that you haven’t told us?”
After glancing down to where Starla’s hand was squeezing her knee, the witch exhaled slowly. “I’m usually stronger than this, magically speaking, but I’m devoting a good chunk of my energy toward Starla’s health right now.”
“I’m not sure I fully understand how energy expenditure works when it comes to magic.” Gwen’s forehead crinkled. “What exactly do you mean?”
“Minor enchantments, like the one I cast over the cider, only require a bit of memorization and a limited burst of strength. Major spells, though…” Sabrina rolled her neck on her shoulders, stretching out any kinks there. “They demand a far higher cost. To invoke that much power without draining your own resources, you need vast amounts of inherent talent, a near-eidetic memory, and a background of lengthy, intensive study of the Magical Arts.”
“Okay.” Gwen seemed fascinated. “But what if you don’t have the opportunity for that kind of study or you don’t have quite enough talent?”
“In other words, what if you’re a witch like me?” Sabrina’s laugh held a bitter, sharp edge. “If you’re insufficient in any area, those sorts of spells—serious healing spells, for example—can leave you essentially powerless for days or weeks. And even for the most gifted practitioners imaginable, saving a life that’s already been assigned to the reapers exacts a greater and greater cost over time.”
The witch didn’t look at her wife. She didn’t have to.
Lorraine’s voice had gentled. “What happens when you can’t pay that cost anymore? When you have nothing left to give?”
“You can give up. Let the reapers take their due. Or if you know the right rituals…” Sabrina shifted uneasily on the mattress. “You can offer another life in exchange.”
If that witch was thinking what Ediethoughtshe was thinking, she could think again.
The witch, that was. Sabrina. Not Edie.
Anyway. Antecedents be damned, if that magical motherfucker tried to sacrifice Max, even for such a heartrending, understandable cause, Edie and her cleaver would intervene. Violently.
Kip inclined his head. “Blood magic.”
“Blood isn’t necessary. Only a human or Supernatural life.” Sabrina smiled wryly at that. “I would gladly relinquish mine, but Starla would never forgive me.”
Her eyes fell on Max. “Once I heard your full name and figured out who you were, I thought about offering your life instead. But as weak as I am right now, I wasn’t sure I could get the drop on you. Also, my stubborn wife vetoed that option.”
