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He continued to glower, but did at least obey. Belle took a deep breath—calming nerves more than centering energy, I knew—then added, “When I originally did this spell, he instinctively retaliated. That might happen again.”
“Monty and I will shield you, lass,” Ashworth said.
“And if all else fails, I’ll shoot him,” Aiden said. “It’s amazing how distracting a bullet in the knee can be.”
Clayton cast Aiden one of his glares even as he snapped, “Can we just get on with this? It’s late, and we’ve a long drive home.”
Monty briefly gripped Belle’s hand and then stepped back beside Ashworth. As the two of them raised a protection barrier, I silently said, How do you want to do this?
I don’t know. She crossed her arms and stared at Clayton for several seconds. The spell is so deeply ingrained I can barely even see it.
For the first time, I actually looked at the spell that had saved me and incapacitated him. It was set low near the base of his spine and had been thrust deep into his body, which was probably one reason why it had lasted as long as it had. Most spells sat on the skin rather than under it, and were therefore easy to examine and unpick. It was only those designed to kill that went internal—and few witches dared perform such spells, thanks to the threefold rule. Only a threat of grave harm could override that rule, and that’s undoubtedly why Belle had never suffered any blowback from her dysfunction spell.
The spell was a thick combination of both our magic and the wild, the latter still pulsing with power. It was no doubt a reason the spell had lasted so long—and also why my father had spent so long looking for me. It was proof that the daughter he’d long thought useless actually wasn’t.
I can see the wild magic, I said eventually. If I pull its threads apart, you should be able to see and unlock the rest of the spell.
Worth a shot. I may have to pull on your magic to do so, though, as that’s how the spell was created.
Take what you need.
Right. She took another deep breath. Let’s do this. You first.
I crossed my arms and studied the gentle pulse of wild magic, following its long, twisting thread. When I found the beginning, I reached out magically and carefully pulled it free from the threads of magic it was fueling. It pulsed in response and quickly unspooled from the main spell, but it didn’t disintegrate, as I’d half expected. Instead, it traveled back up the magical line and became part of me again. It felt weird… and yet somehow right.
But with its light gone, the rest of the spell was finally revealed. It was hard to tell Belle’s magic from mine; the connection between us really had been deep when sh
e’d performed the spell.
Can we just take a second to admire the beauty of that spell? came Belle’s comment. Because, damn, it’s good.
A smile twitched my lips. I don’t think Clayton would agree.
Clayton can go fuck himself. Are you sure we can’t leave a parting gift behind? Her mental tones were somewhat wistful. After all, we only promised to remove this spell—we never said anything about not replacing it.
I wish we could, but with my father outside…
Belle sighed. Fine. Let’s undo the damn spell and unleash future hell.
With that, she deepened our connection then pulled my magic into hers and began the process of picking the spell apart. It was an even tougher process than I’d first presumed, because not only had the spell been embedded deep, but some of its threads had latched around the two main arteries that ran the length of his penis. Their removal was tricky—especially given he had his back to us.
By the time the last traces of the spell had been removed, Belle was shaking with fatigue. She took a deep breath and then said, “It’s done.”
Clayton turned around. “Life stirs where none has existed for thirteen years.”
I didn’t want to think about life stirring. Not now. Not ever. Not when it came to him, anyway.
“Thank you for keeping to the deal.” Though his tone was genuine enough, there was something in his eyes that said she was a fool. That if the circumstances had been reversed, he wouldn’t have.
The door opened, and my father stepped in. “That was an interesting experience. Perhaps I should study the use of magic from behind closed doors more often.”
His gaze briefly fell on me, and I knew then that he was now aware just how deep the connection between Belle and me was—and what it meant for us magically.
“Clayton,” he continued, “let’s go. Elizabeth, I’ll be in contact to arrange the audit.”
“Fine.” My voice was surprisingly even given the tumultuous state of my stomach. “But after that, don’t bother. I don’t want to see you; I don’t want to hear from you.”
A cool smile touched his lips, but he didn’t actually reply. He simply gave me a somewhat mocking bow and then followed Clayton from the room.
