“Plenty of that right here,” he said silkily.
Lucus growled. “She means you should feed yourself on animal blood.”
“I know what she means, fae lord.” He unfurled his wings.
“I’d thought we were past these disagreements, Kaippa,” Lucus said. “But if you insist, I would be happy to remind you who is alpha here.”
Kaippa held up his hands. “No, no. I am fully aware of my lesser status in this castle. What I don’t know is why Hekla resists me when I can smell the want on her even now.”
“Fuck off,” Hekla and I said in unison.
Kaippa bit back a laugh and sauntered toward the door. “I’ll go. But I think foxy would enjoy another type of fucking a great deal more.” In a blur of movement, he was gone.
“Asshole,” Hekla muttered.
I gave her a sympathetic smile. “There’s a difference between wanting and wanting. We know it, and you know it. Don’t let him bother you.”
“Thanks.” She grinned sheepishly then came closer to eye the spells under my hand.
Lucus leaned on the table to read the page the book had found for me. “What does this one say, Coren? Also, Hekla, if you want my assistance with Kaippa, you need only to say the word.”
Hekla’s cheeks went red, and she nodded. I knew she was grateful but embarrassed to keep talking about her “issue” with Kaippa.
The book settled on a page that was absolutely packed with runes.
“They got a little carried away with this one. But this rune,” I pointed to one that had a tail of sorts and what looked like a slowly exploding star, “is promising. It means shapeshifter and…dissolve? I think. I’m not totally sure.”
Lucus uncorked the vial of demon flesh Kaippa had handed over. Ugh. Not a thing I’d hoped to be a part of. Ever.
“Read off what I need, Lucus. You can read the plant list in between the runes, right?”
“I can.”
I went to the cabinet where the herbs were stored and swung the oaken doors wide.
“Sage,” Lucus said.
A clear image of a sage plant showed on a jar near the front. “Got it.”
“Nettle.”
“Yikes. Okay.” I carefully shifted jars, waxed paper envelopes, and bunches of dried stuff around, searching for anything labeled or shown to be nettle. “What is nettle in Italian?”
“Ortica.”
“Got it.” I grabbed the appropriately labeled envelope. “What else? There was one more thing, I think.”
“Only blood.”
I turned, my stomach following suit. “Hekla. Uh. How do you want to do this?”
“Is there a pin in that witch armoire of yours?”
“Hold on.” I perused the lower shelf and found tweezers, an incredibly tiny pair of scissors, and a glass jar of needles. “Yep.”
I assembled my scary bunch of ingredients, the needle, and a pestle and mortar on the spell book table. Lucus crushed the herbs in the mortar, and the sage’s earthy scent rose into the air. Hekla held out her first finger, and I pricked it, squeezing it to bring a bead of deep red to the surface. The blood glittered like it held particles of gold dust.
19 Coren
“Whoa.” The flecks in Hekla’s blood reflected the candlelight like millions of miniature suns.
Hekla eyed her finger, her black eyebrows bunching under the fringe of her thick bangs.
“Your blood is sparkly,” I whispered.
Lucus took a turn studying it. “Interesting. I had no idea your blood would look different from other creatures’ once you changed. I assume this is new for you?”
“It is,” Hekla said. “I’ve cut myself in our kitchen a bunch of times, and I never saw any golden blood.”
I shook my head, used a sage leaf to wipe the blood from Hekla’s finger, then dropped it into the mortar. “This is wild.”
Hekla huffed. “It is.”
The spell was a less direct one than the others I’d dealt with, the runes mixed with images and symbols that I wasn’t totally sure about. I could feel their meaning or intent, but I wasn’t sure what exactly to say or do. This recipe didn’t have a phrase or a chant to go with it. Once I had Hekla’s drop of blood mixed in, I took a handful of the concoction and rubbed it between my palms. The nettle began to sting. I opened my mouth to ask for suggestions, knowing from Tennessee experience just how annoyingly painful this might end up being, but then a soft, cool tingling spread over my palms.
“I think the magic is staving off this nettle’s bite.”
I moved the demon flesh to the floor to keep the spell book safe from whatever was about to happen. Lucus and Hekla stepped back as I focused and aimed my palms at the nasty bit of glittery dragon skin. At first, no sensation other than the tingling arose, but then, a creeping heat began at my wrists.
“It’s smoking,” Hekla said.
As the heat crawled up my palms—thankfully not too painful—the demon dragon skin sizzled from one end to the other. When the sensation reached my fingertips, the stench of burning skin was impossible to ignore. I dropped my hands.
Lucus crouched to look. “It’s damaged, certainly. But not destroyed as I had hoped.”
“Why don’t you try it? You said fae were the ones who used shifter blood to cast spells.”
“Well, that’s only because we don’t have power like mages. Our magic is limited to healing and working with trees and some plant life.”
“And luring wandering maidens,” Hekla said.
“Of course. Yes,” Lucus allowed. “But I won’t be able to increase the power of this spell. My version of the casting would only be less impactful.”
I hated to ask this, but… “Maybe we need more blood?”
Hekla’s shoulders moved as she took a steadying breath. “It’s fine with me. It’s the least I can sacrifice.” Her gaze slid to Lucus, who was still studying the flesh.
I touched Hekla’s arm, and she gave me a sad smile. We were both agonized over Lucus’s pain. Aurelio had been a pretty amazing brother. Baccio had been a dick, but in the
