“Oof, okay, yeah, I don’t think I want to know.” Her hand grazes my sleeve, and I wonder if she has any idea of what she’s doing to me. “Are we asking Mercury to step in again?”
I nod. I’ve considered approaching Egeria or Minerva, but Egeria likes to answer in riddles and Minerva doesn’t tend to answer me at all. Mercury is easily swayed with pricey gifts, so Mercury it is. I prep the components and then pause. “Reggie, I’m going to use my blood, but I’ll need yours, too, since it’ll give us a better chance of getting the god’s attention. Are you all right with that?”
She immediately holds her hand out to me, fingers curled up. “All yours.”
That should not be nearly as erotic as it is. I take her wrist carefully and pull out the small silver knife I keep for such occasions. I rest it over the pad of her forefinger, letting her get used to the idea before I actually stab.
“Be gentle,” Reggie whispers.
My cock twitches in response. Does she realize how flirty that sounds? I don’t look over at her, because I’m afraid she’s going to see the blatant lust on my face and run away. I force myself to focus, and when I gently prick her and the blood wells up, I resist the urge to put her finger to my mouth and suck on it. Reluctantly, I release her to do the same to my finger. “Hold that over the offering bowl until the blood flow stops.”
We bleed together in silence until her finger dries, and then mine does, too. I lick my fingertip automatically and then pull out my phone. Reggie twitches in surprise but remains silent. I flick the camera on, then close my eyes. “Mercury, patron of divination, show us who has cursed Lisa . . .” I pause, because I don’t know her last name. I glance over at Reggie, who shrugs helplessly. “Lisa,” I continue, “the former apprentice of my aunt. She has been cursed. We want to see who is behind this.”
The picture on my phone changes, turning gray and shimmering before sliding back to a dull, ugly black.
“What does that mean?” Reggie whispers.
I repeat my request, and again, my phone reacts the same way. So it wasn’t a coincidence or a software mishap. “Thank you, Mercury,” I murmur, and close the camera app on my phone. “We’re being blocked. Mercury answered us, but he has nothing to show us.”
Reggie gives me a wide-eyed look. “Because we don’t know Lisa’s last name?”
I shake my head. I’ve had less information on a topic and gotten better results in the past. I glance over at the offering bowl, watching as it smokes and the contents turn quickly to ash. “No, we did everything fine. Mercury accepted our offering. He just can’t show us. It’s likely that someone has cast an obfuscation spell to prevent others from doing as we have.”
“Well, of course they would,” Reggie says with a frown on her face. “They’re witches. Or warlocks. Of course they’d hide their tracks.”
“Some don’t. Some leave their names as a calling card, of sorts. Or as a dare.” The good news is that we don’t have to deal with that. Only the strongest of warlocks and witches deliberately leave their signatures all over their curses, hoping for a confrontation and a chance to take out an enemy (or just feed a bit of bloodthirstiness). The fact that this spell has been hidden tells us that it’s someone with less power than me . . . but I don’t like that they’re targeting my aunt or her familiars.
Why has Aunt Dru never brought this up to me? The moment she gets home, I’m going to lay into her. I’m half tempted to drive up to the bingo hall and yank her out, but Dru has never responded well to being rushed. The only thing we can do is wait. So I turn to Reggie and force a casual smile to my lips. “My aunt will be home shortly. We’ll talk to her then.”
She nods, frustration apparent on her face. “Thank you for your help, at least. I was just so panicky I wasn’t sure what to do . . .” She trails off, then shrugs. “Nothing to do but wait. I guess I should go back to work in the library.”
“I’ll join you.”
That makes her pause. She gives me a puzzled look. “Why? It’s just cataloging and sorting.”
“Someone needs to be with you at all times,” I point out. “Most spells cast against someone—a curse, an evil eye, a hex—involve using an object from the person being cursed. It could be a sock, or a lock of hair, or something along those lines. You need someone at your side constantly to ensure you don’t leave behind anything that could be used against you.”
I expect her to protest, to say I’m being silly. Overprotective. I expect her to say that she knows better than to leave her things out, that she won’t shed, that we’re not in public and that she’s safe. That I’m overbearing and obnoxious. Maybe I am. I just know I don’t want to leave Reggie alone for a moment, not when she’s so damned miserable. Not when she could be in danger.
But her expression grows soft, vulnerable. “You’d . . . wait with me?”
I hate that aching note of hope in her voice. It makes me wonder if anyone has ever been there for her—her parents, that fool Nick, anyone at all. “Of course.”
She smiles softly at me, and I know I’m in such danger. Not from hexes or spells, but from becoming entirely besotted with my aunt’s familiar.
I might already be there.
21
BEN
We clean up my lab (without Reggie being, well, Reggie) and head back downstairs. She sighs as she looks toward the wrecked library, and another idea hits me.
“Why don’t we play cards instead of you working tonight?” I suggest. “You need to get your mind off of things.”
Her face lights up. She loves that card game more than anything. I’ve never seen someone so into a game, but Reggie’s also incredibly good at it. She can see combinations that aren’t obvious and can assess the gameplay at a glance. I love watching her mind work, and I have to admit I’m getting fairly addicted to the game myself. “Do you think we should?” Reggie finally asks. “Shouldn’t we be working on something to help Lisa?”
“If she called my aunt instead of coming over, she’s not that worried about it,” I point out. “And if Aunt Dru went to bingo instead of working on fixing this for Lisa, it means she’s not worried about it, either.” That, or she has no idea how to fix it, but I don’t say that aloud. “All we can do is wait on Aunt Dru, and until then, you might as well enjoy yourself.”
It doesn’t take more convincing than that. “All right,” Reggie agrees, and the twinkle in her eyes is back. “I’ll put on some coffee. But you’re going down, Magnus.”
Damn it all, why is everything she says today innuendo? I pretend to ignore it, and head toward the living room, where we normally play at the coffee table, and retrieve my cards. They’re still here from when we played last night, and I pull out my latest deck, shuffling as I wait.
She returns a few minutes later with two cups of coffee and a sunny smile on her face. “Can I just say thank you, Ben?”
I arch a brow at her. “For?”
“For being my friend.” She smiles sweetly at me.
It almost makes me want to throw my cards down. I don’t want to be her friend. I want to grab her and kiss the hell out of her . . . but I know that’s wrong. I absolutely know it is. Friends is all we can be. “Don’t try to make me regret the trouncing I’m about to give you.”
Reggie laughs with sheer delight, setting down the coffee mugs and then bounding into her seat across from me. “Ante tonight?”
“Of course.” Since I know the rules now, we’ve started playing for an ante card. We both draw the first card in our decks and set them aside. Whoever wins the match wins the card. Most of the time, it just adds a bit of an edge to the play, knowing that you’re going to win something of your opponent’s and then you can promptly rub it in their face.
When we pull ante tonight, though, I pull from Reggie’s deck as she pulls from mine. She pulls a cauldron—an energy source—and makes a face. I pull her favorite card, Brilliant Sun-Phoenix.
Before I can set it down atop my ante, Reggie reaches for it. “Wait, Ben, no.”
I hold it in the air, giving her a look. “It’s the ante, Reggie. You set the rules yourself.”
“But that’s my Sun-Phoenix!”