Page 96 of Bad Witch

There was nothing I could do about that. The sooner we got this over with, the better. “If everyone but Fender could stay here, please.” I looked up at him. “I need to strip, and I’ll need help with the application of some oil.”

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

Tempest

* * *

Fender silently followed me as I searched for a secluded area.

When I found a spot that was suitably concealed, I took what I needed from my bag. My cheeks heated just thinking about stripping down in front of him, but it had to be done, and he’d seen me partially naked already. It was fine. I was fine. My insecurity about my body had to take a back seat. Stopping the apocalypse was just a tad more important.

I handed him my stone mortar, and he took the heavy bowl dutifully and continued to watch as I added the ingredients. First, I dropped in several lilies, ones I grew in the cemetery, and a small bunch of moss that I’d harvested from the ancient oaks that grew on the edge of the moat. I crushed them with the stone pestle, then added a handful of cemetery dirt. I ground that in as well, then finally poured in a quantity of oil from several different bottles, all specialized and highly potent mixes developed by the Matildas over the centuries.

It took a moment to grind and emulsify the mix and create the correct consistency.

Fender made a rough sound. “I’ve seen this done before.”

His voice was so low, I had to fight back a shiver. “You have?” I risked a glance up at him.

“A while ago now, back before Willow and War were mated. Some of my brothers became possessed. Wills helped, and she did this, what you’re about to do.” He lifted his shirt and showed me a rune tattooed on his chest. “She gave us these as well, since hounds are an easy target for possession.”

I’d seen the rune tattoo, but I’d been preoccupied and hadn’t looked that closely.

“We don’t have souls, at least not like you have. We have something else and that leaves us open to spirits,” he added.

His gaze grew intense like he was waiting for me to freak out or recoil, but I’d already known he didn’t have a soul, that Hell-born beings didn’t have souls like we did. “It’s good you have the rune, then.”

“It is. It means I can go into that cave with you.”

I shook my head. “It’s better if you stay out here. I’m a witch. Brigid will tolerate me in her domain more than you. I’ll need to talk to her, if she is still here, and ask for permission to pass. Having you there will just anger her more.”

He huffed out a growl. “You sure as fuck don’t have any trouble speaking your mind anymore, peaches.”

My gaze shot to his. “And what? You prefer me meek and obedient?” His head jerked back in that way of his, like I’d fired an invisible blow or, at the very least, surprised him.

“No, I don’t want you meek or fucking obedient,” he said, and his voice was harsh now. “And if you truly think that, then you haven’t been paying attention, and you don’t know me at all.”

Shame washed over me. He was right, of course. Fender hadn’t deserved that. I was taking my hurt and upset over the Matildas’ silence, over losing my job at the clinic, over disappointing Jack and Magnolia—over all my failures—on him. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Yeah, you do. Something’s bothering you. I felt it when you walked out of your place earlier. You can’t go in there and confront Brigid’s ghost while you’re all churned up like this. Talk to me.”

His voice was gentle, but the beast in him had added a growl that told me he wasn’t going to let it drop.

“I’m no longer working at the clinic,” I said without looking at him.

“Why?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about. Jack just…he thought it was time for me to move on, and he’s right.”

“Move on? What the fuck are you talking about? Are you leaving?”

Crap, I’d gone about this all wrong as well. “Possibly,” I said, being vague. There’d be no reason for me to leave the cottage anymore, or the forest, which was probably for the best—unless of course I was no longer a Matilda. That was also highly likely, since the silence I was getting from the others could very well mean that they were already gone.

I’d broken so many rules. I’d put the Matildas at risk, and for what? To prove I was a good healer? Because I wanted some friends? Because I was lonely? None of those reasons were good enough. They were selfish.

“You have all these secrets,” Fender said. “Tell me what’s going on with you, what’s truly going on. I can help you. Let me help you.”