44. The Magic in Your Veins
ELOISE
“If I drink any more tea, I’m going to float away,” I tell Maeve. I’ve slept on and off on the sofa all night, with Maeve filling my cup every time I came to. “I think I”ve drank an entire pot of the stuff by now. It tastes like ass, by the way.”
Maeve shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s working. Look at your arms.”
I do and my breath hitches. The once bright red bruises are barely discernible anymore. I gently prod the skin around my eye, and that feels better too. “Your aunt Hildie is a genius!”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure she saved your life last night. You were in bad shape.”
I heave a sigh. “I can’t thank you or her enough. You must know that. And after everything with the candle, I wouldn’t have blamed you for not coming at all.”
She brushes her thick fringe of bangs to the side, her eyes lined with red behind her glasses. “I did take some heat from my family about the candle. Honestly, I was worried Aunt Hildie wouldn’t agree to give me the tea. They’re all so angry about it. But everyone agreed to give you grace because you’re new.”
“New?”
She looks down at her fingers. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and your mind is fighting the truth about this. It’s a self-protection mechanism. But denial is not just a river in Egypt.”
I shake my head. “What?” I scoff.” I’m not in denial.”
“Only a powerful witch could have broken Damien’s curse. You may not have known what you were doing when you threw the candle into the fire, but your magic knew. Your magic wanted Damien for itself.”
“I... I just... I thought he’d served his time.”
She waves a hand dismissively. “It’s done… and a moot point. I forgive you. But this is bigger than that. It’s like I said before. That pattern on your back isn’t just a tattoo. It’s a sigil containing your family’s keyspell.”
“Right.” She narrows her eyes. ”But what does it all mean. You said I wasn’t a witch.”
“You’re not. But you’re magical. Damien?—”
“Where is Damien?”
“He had to go back to Night Haven because the sun is rising, but while you were out tonight, he told me something. He didn’t want me to pass it on until you were stronger. He didn’t want you to worry about it.”
“As you pointed out, I’m practically healed, so tell me.”
“Damien’s friend found your sigil in a book in the Night Haven palace library. An ancient book, Eloise, written hundreds of years ago.”
“How is that possible? My mother was thirty-nine when she died. The key was her creation.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Maeve sighs. “The key shape is a sigil developed by a secret society of witches and wizards with very rare magic fueled by dragon’s blood. There have only been a few hundred members of the Order of the Dragon throughout history. Your parents were two of them. Your mother came from a family of witches, the Townsends —I found them in the book once I researched her maiden name and discovered her birthplace. She joined the Order of the Dragon as an adult. They practiced outside of London until she met your father. He wasn”t a witch but came from a family of spiritualists, the Harcourts. I used to think your grandmother was exaggerating about the stories, but now I wonder if there really are ghosts in this house, El. Your mom initiated your father into the order and when he drank dragon”s blood he gained powers. Afterward they both adopted that sigil on your back and developed the spell inside of it. The Harcourt family keyspell. They both drank dragon’s blood, Eloise, before they conceived you. Their blood is your blood. And you initiated yourself into the coven the day you tattooed that key with those runes on your back.”
“So, I am part witch?”
“You have witch blood, and dragon blood, and Harcourt blood. You’re magical.” Her gaze drops to her tangled fingers, and she rests her elbows on her knees. ”There”s no one like you. There”s nothing like you.”
“How is this all possible?” I believe her, but I can”t wrap my head around it all.
After drawing a slow, deep breath, she says, “Usually, when it comes to sigils, another witch has to be present to ignite the magic once it’s in your skin, basically prime the spell until it can start drawing from its host. I, uh, I was with you the night you got your tattoo. Do you remember how much it hurt?”
I do remember. “We were both drunk, and I asked you to use your witchy powers to numb the pain.”
“You were always joking about my witchy powers. We both pretended they weren’t real.”
“But they were,” I say breathlessly. “They are. And when you touched the tattoo, the pain went away.”
“I’ve never been any good at healing. The pain went away because the sigil was primed with my magic. It became part of you.”
I push myself up to a seated position just as silver light cascades through the window and the blood-colored leaves of the mighty red oak tree in the front yard become visible. I can’t help but think of Damien, how he”d stood there, watching me through the window the first night we met. I try to picture him in his underground room in Night Haven. I wonder if he’s thinking of me. “So the keyspell...?”
“I think it’s exactly what your mother said it was.”
Fuck. The idea that what I experienced was real sends goosebumps marching across my skin. “She told me that everything I need to know is in the attic.” My voice trembles.
Maeve stands and walks over to me, taking my hand. “This is a lot. Try not to worry about it. I’ll help you when you’re better. We’ll practice your magic, together.”
“You’d do that for me? Still?”
“Of course. You’re the only best friend I’ve ever had. I’d like to keep you.” Maeve winks.
“I should’ve told you how I felt about Damien and that I planned to free him. I should’ve trusted that you’d do the right thing.” A stray tear leaks from the corner of my eye, and I wipe it away.
“Yeah, you should have. But honestly, I’m not sure we would’ve agreed on what constituted the right thing.” She frowns.
I rub my face. “I love him, Maeve. Like I never loved Tony. Love like you read about.”
She doesn’t smile. Her face becomes as expressionless as a stone.
“Maeve, say something. I know you think he’s a monster, but?—”
“No, Eloise, I don’t think he’s a monster. He is a monster. He’s a shade, a rare and powerful relation to vampires, which is, by definition, a monster. But even monsters fall in love. Your feelings are real, and based on what I saw tonight, he loves you too. I want to be happy for you. I do. But you must know this relationship will be… complicated.”
“Isn’t every relationship?”
“He’ll never have breakfast with you. No picnics in the park. No church on Sunday morning. Your life is spent in the sun. He’s a creature of shadow.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
Maeve sighs. “There’s one more thing. A big thing. Something I tried to tell you before, but you wouldn”t listen. When a vampire drinks a witch’s blood, it has a bonding effect on the vampire. It’s how triunes are usually made. The witch bonds the vampire with her blood and lures the shifter with her promise of helping him control his curse. Shades are like vampires. They’re possible to bind by blood.”
“I haven’t bound him. I love him. This is real,” I say adamantly.
“I believe you. But?—”
“But?”
Before you give your heart away, just make sure it’s you he loves and not the magic in your veins.”