From the slow drag of his eyes over me, he didn’t believe me and simply responded with a grunt.
“That’s the second time you challenged my magical status,” I said.
Inching closer, he closed his eyes. Raising his face as if he were basking in the sun, he frowned. “I’ve heard you have some trace of magic that makes you immune to wards. Some consider it trivial, but I disagree. There are a host of benefits that comes with that, wouldn’t you agree?”
I nodded. That trivial magic included my inability to be bound. Too bad it hadn’t saved me from the most consequential oath-binding.
“I can’t place your magic. I believe I’ve encountered your energy before,” he said, stepping back until his back rested against the wall. He winced and repositioned his arm. It couldn’t be easy being in the room with the person who had given him that injury.
“I need you to do that spell.”
Irritation flickered across his face. “Me?”
I nodded.
“Rachel is a powerful witch and a member of Amelia’s coven, why not have her do it?”
“She is gifted but it’s your talents that are needed?”
A blue swirl charged with energy appeared and zapped me.
“That was a lie,” Jonah asserted.
This fucker had made some type of magical lie detector without me having noticed he was invoking a spell. No wonder Corrine was so interested in him. Invoking a truth spell with no ingredients or an invocation was impressive.
“Remove the spell,” I demanded.
“No. You’re requesting a favor from me, so it’s only fair I know your exact intentions. Why me?”
“Amelia’s coven attempted to perform a locating spell. The spellcaster’s magic was cloaked, and it was rigged with a failsafe.”
Jonah’s snide smile and the dark satisfaction that flitted across his face kept me from elaborating.
“They were injured?”
I allowed my silence to answer the question.
His head slowly nodded in response. “Did anyone die?”
“No.”
“You don’t want to put them in that predicament again.”
My response was silence again.
Making a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a scoff, he sneered. “But you’re willing to chance my safety? The nerve.”
“I don’t know you. And what information I’ve learned about you hasn’t ingratiated you to me. And I believe you have the magical abilities to do this without injury.”
His face brightened at the implied compliment that he was a better spellcaster than any witch in the Lunar Veil coven.
“I won’t put my safety on the line for your friend”—he lifted a finger before I could offer a rebuttal—“but I’ll give you the means to use my magic.”
Waving for me to follow, he led me to the kitchen. It wasn’t unusual for witches to have a dedicated space for magic ingredients. Excessive use of chalk on the worn hardwood floor had left it ashen. Parts of the floor had rusty discoloration in the grain, which I suspected was from spilled blood.
“Dark magic requires the sacrifice of something living,” I pointed out, staring at the stained area. “Jonah, are you practicing dark magic or apotropaism?”
His blank face provided no tells. I didn’t know him well enough to read his body language. He could lie to my face, and I doubt I would know. I suspected he’d be good at it.
