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I’d found out when I got here that I’d blazed right through the first two spell books on my own much faster than was usually recommended. Oops. I had no idea what was normal or expected. I only had one goal in mind: get good enough to win. And according to Seth, I had.
We’d made so much progress on my first day here, and I was so sure of myself. But instead of waking up refreshed and ready the following day, I’d woken up a zombie with bags under my eyes, ruddy skin, and a headache that made me feel like I’d rather be dead. Nugget had been no better, and it had worried me.
That was yesterday. Seth had insisted I rest after a very short practice, promising to finally teach me to work the spell the next day. He’d ordered us enough food to serve an army, and I’d spent the day eating and napping while he played video games.
This morning had been better, but my magic drained quickly, and by the time he’d summoned Liam for a live test of the spell, I’d already run through most of my reserves. Needless to say, I’d failed every attempt at trapping my willing subject.
“Why is this happening? I never felt like this at the penthouse.” I felt like stomping my feet in frustration like a child. At this rate, I’d never be free of Mother. Could my magic just not be enough? Was I destined to fail?
“What’s different there?” Liam asked. “At the penthouse, I mean. What did you do to recharge?”
“The usual. I ate a lot. Took naps.” I remembered fondly how Eamon would join me for those naps and how often I woke up with him going down on me.
“You’re doing that here.” Seth rubbed his chin. “What about plants? Or crystals? Magical objects? What makes you happy?”
Iris was a green witch and mostly worked with plants and potions; she recharged best surrounded by flora. Sybil was a general witch who focused on wards professionally; she recharged best with crystals and objects around her—hence, her shrines. I wasn’t sure what I was yet. I hadn’t shown a preference or particular aptitude for any type of magic and had picked up wizard magic with only a few false starts.
I’d been using the same techniques to recharge as I had back at the penthouse. I had everything I needed here: lots of food, a place to sleep, a big bathtub, and time to spend with Nugget. The only thing I missed was Eamon.
Eamon. Could I have been drawing energy from him? No way. Just because I missed him didn’t mean he was helping me recharge this whole time.
I must have let my thoughts show because Seth said, “Spit it out.”
“I don’t think it’s anything important,” I said, brushing off the silly idea.
“Tell me anyway.” And when I didn’t reply, he said, “You want to trap Amrita, don’t you?”
“Ugh, fine,” I grumbled. “Eamon. Eamon was there. Could a witch unknowingly draw magic from a demon?”
The two exchanged a look.
“Oh-ho!” Liam said with a chortle. “Eamon’s been getting his dicky sticky.”
I grimaced at the horrible phrase. Ugh. No wonder the centuries-old demon had gotten along with Seth when he was a teenager; he wasn’t much more mature himself.
Seth jammed his hands into his pockets. “Other than the naturally-occurring recovery from interacting with people who care about you, thatisone of the only ways.”
He said one of the only ways, which meant there were others. “Then what’s another way?”
“You can consume his life force,” Liam offered. “But that’s permanent. Wizards used to do that to demons to increase their magic.”
I scowled, disgusted. “They ate you? That’s barbaric.”
“They considered sex even more so,” Liam said. “And with sex magic so prevalent among the witches of old, they thought of witchcraft as equally barbaric. It’s said that witches who recharge with sex are descendants of succubi. Did you know the old witch hunts were started by the wizards who had their fingers in the church at the time? The WEC is an old order.”
“I believe it.” The more I learned about the Wizards’ Elder Council, the more I realized they’d pulled the strings behind the scenes for a long, long time.
This new revelation that I’d been recharging my magic through sex with Eamon made sense. It was the only thing I could think of missing from the equation here. He’d been there since I started teaching myself magic in earnest. Whenever I worked too long, he’d come over, we’d mess around, and I’d feel as if I was ready for more.
Holy crap! I was one of those witches who would’ve danced under the full moon and fucked my demon lover. And to think that before the fall of The Wall, I’d thought I was just another normal girl with an overprotective mother. I wondered if there were another version of Earth out there, where I led a normal life, as a normal woman, in a monster and magic-free world.
Liam’s question “what makes you happy” repeated in my head, and I stumbled the few steps to the couch and sat my ass down. This was all a little too much for me. Funny how, despite all the crazy things I’d learned over the last few weeks, it was the realization that Eamon was the source of my happiness that had me too shocked to stand.
“The use of fornication, especially with demons, satyrs, and the like, to recharge magic has since been driven underground,” Seth said. “Christianity made sure of that.”
“No more dancing for the devil under the pale moonlight,” I mumbled, thinking of the conversation with Eamon about the witches’ sabbath.
“Ah, those were the days,” Liam said, which earned him a glare from Seth.
