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“Spiders do good things for the world,” Annie says practically. “Sultan doesn’t.”
“Speaking of spiders,” Blaire says, leaning closer as she adds in a softer voice, “I heard from Mama Spider the other day.”
Annie makes a happy sound, clearly pleased to learn that our family’s spider shifter protector, Jolene aka Mama Spider, isn’t dead, after all, but Blaire shushes her.
“No, no celebrating yet,” Blaire says. “She’s alive, but she was badly wounded in the demon attack last winter. She’s still recuperating with family in Canada and can’t remember much from the time right before she was hurt. But like Herbish, she also warned that we have a traitor in our midst. She’s sure of it, she just can’t remember who it is.” She glances between us. “But she said it’s someone close. Like…really close.”
“Closer than Sultan,” I say, stating the obvious.
Blaire nods. “Someone like…one of us. Even a Wonderfully, maybe.”
My head rears back in surprise and Annie shakes her head firmly. “No,” Annie says. “We would never. I adore Jolene and respect what she’s done for our family, but in this case, she’s wrong. We’re unbreakable. The more I think about it, the more I believe that’s why Mom raised us the way she did, so we’d be so isolated and poorly parented, we’d have no choice but to turn to each other for everything and grow strong in our sisterhood.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” I say. “I don’t think Mom had a plan other than to throw herself headlong into whatever caught her fancy and make the best of the fall out, but I trust you both with my life. And with Amy’s. I trust Felicity, Everly, and Delilah just as much. Time apart and distance can’t touch what we have. I know if I needed them, they’d be there for me, no questions asked.”
“That’s a theory we might have to test soon,” Blaire says. “Some of the protection spells I’ve been looking at recently require seven sisters to pull them off.”
I start to protest that there are only six of us, then remember Sophie and ask, “But will Sophie be able to help with that? I mean, she obviously has a witch mother, but her powers seem to be Wyvern flavored, like her dad’s.”
“Totally,” Blaire assures me. “Only half of the seven need to be manifesting power. We already know the three of us are, and the chances Felicity has stayed alive this long without some kind of magical intervention to combat her poor decision-making skills and tendency to catch fire are slim to none.”
“We don’t know I’m manifesting anything,” I argue, but even as I say the words, I know better.
I was the only one who could see through Herbish’s skin, and that’s exactly what the Truth of Body potion is supposed to do. If there’s any disease present, the potion reveals it to the caster of the spell. It looks like the Truth of Mind does something similar, though it’s a bit more complex.
I guess it’s harder to coax people into revealing secrets they’ve chosen to keep than diseases they might not even know they have.
People and vampires, perhaps?
I mean, I already know one of these worked on a goblin…
My heart flutters faster at the thought. “So, potions work on everyone?” I ask. “Vampires, humans, shifters…whoever?”
“As far as I understand, yes,” Blaire says. “I think potions are like fire. No matter what kind of DNA you’ve got, if you walk into the flames, you’re going to get burned.”
Annie makes a concerned sound. “Well, that’s awfully brutal, Blaire. How about potions are like water? In that we can all benefit from a little extra hydration?”
“I don’t think Sultan is going to be too excited about his ‘hydrating’ experience,” Blaire says, her gaze darkening. “He’s been fighting like hell to keep his mouth shut until we run out of time to get answers.” She shifts her gaze my way. “Think you can be ready by tonight? After the party’s over and Amy’s in bed? I can get a cot sent up to your room for Sherry. She won’t mind sleeping over in case Amy wakes up while you’re gone.”
I nod. “Okay, yeah, I think I can be ready by then.” I run my finger down the list of potion ingredients, then glance at the selection of juices, herbs, and various mixers on the counter. “Looks like I have everything I need to practice. I’ll whip up a few batches and…see how it goes.”
Annie squeezes my arm on her way to the door. “You’re going to do a great job. You were destined for this. I can feel it.”
“Me, too,” Blaire says, stifling a yawn. “And I’m destined for a nap. See you two at the party.”
“See you,” I mumble, already gathering the mixing tools I’ll need from the cabinet under the bar, hopeful for reasons that have nothing to do with Sultan or saving our town from evil vampire invasion.
I want those things. Of course, I do. Life in Nightfall would become a horror show if the Shadowbanes take control.
But my life in Nightfall will be nearly as bleak without Edmond.
I originally wanted to track down Priscilla in hopes of coaxing the truth about the curse from her. But what if I didn’t have to coax it? What if all I had to do was get her to drink a special concoction I’ve whipped up just for her?
Focus cemented, I slip into the routine motions of measuring, shaking, and stirring, a hum in my veins that makes me think Annie is right.
This is what I’m meant to do, and I may have figured it out just in time to save the man I love.
Chapter Twelve
