Calix pulls his hand back. “You would get sick?” His brow furrows.
I swallow and my stomach lets out a loud gurgle. “Let me try it.”
“I don’t want you to get sick.” Calix looks around to see if anyone else has any input. Grim edges forward on his seat, his attention locked on me.
“I’ll be fine—come on.” I roll my wrist, eager for him to let me have it now that I’ve decided I’m going to try it.
Calix closes the distance between us, and he lifts his hand as if he’s planning to feed it to me. I lean forward a bit and open my mouth. The moment it hits my tongue, the saltiness is almost overwhelming. The texture is a little strange too. It almost melts, but it’s kind of crunchy at the same time.
“I can’t tell from your face if you like it or not.” Calix moves over a little, and I see Grim and Gunnar both watching me.
“I’m not sure…it’s weird. Nothing like I expected. So salty.” I scrunch up my face a little and stick out my tongue.
“Do you want to try some more?” Calix offers.
“I don’t think I do,” I mutter. I’m a little disappointed, to be honest. I feel like it was a big letdown after all these years of wanting it.
Calix slinks over to the couch and lounges into the opposite corner from Grim. I look over at Gunnar. He has one palm against the wall and is leaning forward, looking down at his phone in his hand.
“I thought we were supposed to be talking about what happened with the witches,” I snap. I don’t like that his phone has his attention, and that’s just kind of fucked up. Gunnar jerks his head up and stands upright, his phone forgotten in his hand.
“Give me a breakdown of how the coven works,” Calix orders, while crunching through a handful of popcorn. “Is there a hierarchy like with animals?”
Gunnar lumbers over and takes a seat in the remaining chair. “Vanessa has been the High Priestess for a little over twenty years. She runs the coven.”
“Twenty years?” I question dubiously. “She barely looks older than twenty.”
“I assure you, she is much older than twenty. Try closer to sixty.” Gunnar leans back in the chair.
“I’d like to know her skin care routine.” I think I hate her a little more now.
“I don’t think you’d be willing to follow her procedure. Besides, it’s not like you’re aging anymore either,” Gunnar supplies.
“Wait.” I scoot forward in my chair. “Are you saying I’m not going to age?” I couldn’t have heard him right.
“You haven’t noticed?” Gunnar’s eyes travel over me. I reach my hand up to my face and trail my fingers over my cheek. I look over at Grim and Calix to see their reaction to Gunnar’s words.
“That can’t be right,” I whisper.
“Are you really that surprised?” Gunnar asks, his brow furrowed. “Have any of your baddies aged over the years? Why would you think you would be any different?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even really understand what I am.” My voice grows shrill.
“Damiana, why are you upset?” Grim stands up and takes a few steps closer to me. “I told you I tethered your soul to your body.”
“I not upset. I’m freaked the fuck out. I’m going to be stuck like this forever?”
“You would rather die slowly?” Grim crouches in front of me.
I think about his words. Would I? Why hadn’t I thought about this before? I mean, I know that things like Dare’s nettles never hurt me—nothing ever really has—so why didn’t I already come to the same conclusion?
I know why: if I had to think about living like this forever, with only my monsters to keep me company when they had the time to stop and visit me, I would slowly go insane. I would rather age and die if that’s all I had to look forward to.
Grim places his hand on my leg just above my knee. “How long are we talking about here, surely not forever?” I inquire, staring into Grim’s eyes.
“Nothing is forever, Damiana. At some point, we will all cease to exist.”
“Exactly how old are you?” I examine Grim’s features. His gray eyes are calm, lacking the embers that sometimes burn there. I notice a slight bit of stubble beginning to darken his jaw, and it somehow makes him more human. His beauty is almost too ethereal at times.
