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So dark was her mood, she ran smack dab into Antoine near the beanstalk’s base, nearly knocking the older man onto his well-padded behind.
“Well, don’t you match the skies today? You aren’t planning to slit my throat with that, are you?”
She had a white-knuckle grip around the Chisa Katana sword’s handle. With conscious effort, she peeled one finger off at a time, then slid it into the worn leather sheath on her thigh. “Sorry. Rough night.”
“Nightmares?”
“Only when I’m awake.”
“I know all of this.” He waved his hand at the beanstalk. “It has been a bit much, but it has to be done. One last trip up.” Her mentor paused and stroked his chin. “But that’s not it at all, is it? Do tell.”
Heat raced to her cheeks, while anger and humiliation mixed together in the pit of her stomach. Her body flirted with the need to puke. Admitting to what had happened–even to her mentor–seemed like an exercise in self-abuse, but if she couldn’t tell Antoine, she couldn’t tell anyone. And she needed to let her frustration out so it wouldn’t interfere with the job ahead.
“Jax used a love spell to make me fall in love with him.”
Antoine lifted his shoulders in the Gallic way the French Canadians had about them. “Oh, is that all.”
“Is that all?” Fire and brimstone whooshed out along with the words.
“Those spells are really a bit of snake oil, even the witches agree. They’re like a mood ring. You had one of those as a child, didn’t you?”
She shook her head.
“Strange, I thought every young girl had one. Anyway, they are cheap, little rings with stones that change color, supposedly based on your mood. It’s a fabulous con, of course. The stone is actually a hollow glass shell filled with thermotropic liquid crystals that twist in response to changes in temperature. The eye reads these different configurations as colors. A blue color, for instance, meant the wearer was feeling high passion. Really what was going on was the crystals were twisting in response to the wearer’s increasing body temperature, not because of her mood.”
In full-on professorial mode now, Antoine paced through the thick grass. “Love is not something the witches can create. Trust me, I put serious effort into researching this. Love is a magic unto itself and beyond our measly interferences. All a love spell can do is show you what you’re already feeling–much like a mood ring when it turns blue.”
He clasped his hands in front of his round belly and stared at her expectantly with his keen blue eyes.
Realization hit her like a sucker punch. “So it was real.”
“Of course it was real. It still is. That boy loves you like the Yeti loves snow. And you feel the same. You can’t hide your feelings from me. I’ve seen the way you watch him when you think no one is looking.” He patted her shoulder. “If I’ve learned anything in my life it’s that it’s too damn short to deny yourself the things that make you happy and that you have to take what you want. No one is going to hand it to you. In fact, if you’re not careful, they’ll yank it away before you even realize what’s happening.”
All the fury wheezed out of her body, leaving her as deflated as a flat tire. Jax had fucked up and he’d have some mighty groveling to do to make up for it, but he hadn’t turned her into some kind of emotional zombie there to do his bidding. Their time together, their love, had been real.
“Do you love him?”
She didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”
“Good. That is exactly what I needed to hear.” Antoine gave her a light push toward the beanstalk. “Then start climbing. He’s got a half hour head start on us.”
Lucky she loved Jax, because otherwise she’d wring his neck when she caught up to him. “What was he thinking, going up alone?”
“You’ll have to ask him when we get there.”
They climbed through mist and fog so thick in places, Veronica could barely see the bright green vines she used to pull herself higher. By the time they’d reached the top, the precipitation had soaked her hair, the short strands at her nape stuck to her skin.
Jax waited for them a few yards away surrounded by the cloud trees. “Go back down,” he whispered.
“Jax–”
He silenced her with a raised hand. “Please, go. Chop the beanstalk down when you get to the bottom.” In a heartbeat he was next to her, his lips on hers delivering passion, hunger and a hint of regret. “I’ll always love you. Now go.”
He shoved her away, toward the beanstalk poking out of the cloud then spun around, his attention focused on the castle. Tension hardened every muscle in his back and down his arms. A Bowie knife hung loose and ready in his fist. He bounced on the balls of his feet as if an attacker were about to come flying at him.
Veronica couldn’t see the danger. A breathy giggle came, from no more than fifteen feet away. Then another, this time deeper. A third giggle sounded from the other direction farther off.
Fear curdled her breakfast, but not enough to dampen her instincts. She withdrew her blade with her right hand and snagged a throwing star with her left. Scanning the perimeter for any movement, she stood in a protective stance ready to guard Antoine, who hadn’t moved away from the beanstalk.
