Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
ZOE
I can’t help fidgeting as Patrick clears the dining room table.
I’ve just finished one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten in my life, but the tension between Seb and me is palpable.
It’s obvious why. When I hugged him, his body responded with an erection.
It was a physical response to a stimulus he wasn’t expecting.
Nothing to be ashamed of. Oh goddess, Sebastian York has noth-ing to be ashamed of in the erection department.
But now, everything is awkward.
Once again, I have followed my instincts and probably fucked myself.
Clearly, my hugging him like that without asking first was unprofessional, but also, he liked it.
No denying he liked it, right? And I did too.
I wasn’t expecting it, but the moment I touched him, I wanted him.
He must have felt my nipples harden under my shirt.
What I can’t figure out is, if I did turn him on, why didn’t he try to take advantage of the situation? I thought he was going to kiss me for a second. I wanted him to kiss me. But he didn’t.
Have I found the one mythical male who has ethical boundaries and won’t fool around with someone he’s working with? Damn. The one person I wouldn’t mind taking advantage of me won’t take advantage of me. My bad luck.
As Patrick is walking back to the kitchen, I feel compelled to say something to break the tension. “Has anyone ever told Patrick he looks exactly like the famous jazz pianist Tangelo Fox?”
Seb grins. “It’s a stage name. He goes by Patrick when he’s not touring.”
I laugh. “What?”
“Patrick is Tangelo Fox. He serves as my Firetender while he’s writing new music. By living with me, he feeds off my creative energy, and in exchange, he serves me. It’s a symbiotic and sacred relationship.”
I lick my lips, trying to get my head around this. “Sorry, are you saying he works as your servant for free in exchange for just being near you?”
He shrugs. “More or less.”
I blink slowly, shaking my head in disbelief. “That’s insane. He’s got to be worth millions. Why on earth would he be here fixing you dinner and washing your undies?”
Seb snorts. “Who said he washes my undies?”
“I just assumed.”
“Maybe I don’t wear any.”
My face feels hot. I deeply regret the use of the word undies in this conversation.
His answering smile is dripping with mirth. “If you want to know why Patrick does what he does, feel free to ask him. He’s a free person who does as he wishes. I’m sure he’d tell you all you want to know about the state of my undies.”
While I’m recovering and trying my best to use X-ray vision to know for sure if he is wearing underwear, Seb rises from his seat and grabs a box off a nearby table.
It’s one movement. A human would push their chair back, stand, walk to the credenza, pick up the box.
Seb slips out of the chair and retrieves the box with the grace of a dancer, or maybe a serpent.
His movements are completely silent. He doesn’t bump the table.
The way he moves, it’s clear he’s not a man.
He’s a dragon. And I’m suddenly aware of him in a new way.
His relationship with Patrick is just one signpost that I am journeying into wonderland. I don’t know the rules here. I don’t understand his species. I need to remember that. I need to apologize for touching him without permission today.
“Sebastian, I—” My voice comes out as a croak, and he doesn’t hear me. He gently squares the box on the table in front of me as if there’s a live bomb inside it.
“Once you open this box, I won’t be able to touch the contents.
The ring inside is cursed and poisonous to my kind.
Absolutely lethal. The vial inside contains water that seems to have a conflicting enchantment.
Both are a mystery to us. We need you to use your magic to analyze these objects so that we can understand how they work. ”
“How they work? Can you explain more? What is your ultimate goal?”
He blows out a deep breath. “We want a way to defend ourselves against it. To be honest, we don’t know what to ask for because we don’t understand what is possible, only that this magic is killing us.”
I try to process all of this. “The ring is poisonous to you. In what way? Like if it’s put on your finger?”
He shakes his head. “It’s true that if I touch it, it will burn me, but the real danger is that every member of the Saint’s Order has one of these rings and can turn it into a weapon. If that weapon breaks our skin, it infects us with a poison that has to be extracted or we die.”
I squint at him. Did I hear that right? “You say the ring transforms into a weapon. What sort of weapon?”
“Sometimes a sword, sometimes a dagger, sometimes a bow with arrows, sometimes a spear.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Has nothing to do with it. Honestly, this magic is dark, Zoe. It makes my skin crawl.”
I reach forward and pull the box toward me.
He takes a big step back as I lift the lid, and I understand why the moment there is no longer a barrier between me and the ring.
A deep sense of dread washes over me. The closest thing I can relate it to is when my grandfather died and I had to approach the open casket.
My stomach drops, my skin goes cold, and I’m gripped by an intense unease.
I reach out to hover my fingers over the ring, and I hear Seb inhale sharply.
“Is there any evidence that this will hurt me if I touch it?”
“I don’t know. My brother’s mate is human, but he won’t let her touch it. The only people we know who have touched it are order members, after they’ve been initiated. We don’t know if the initiation makes them immune to the effects or if the effects are what make them all murderous assholes.”
I decide not to touch the ring, just to be safe.
It’s a relief, actually. The closer my fingertips came to it, the stronger the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.
“I think I’ll skip being the guinea pig on this one.
I’d rather not be tainted by whatever dark energy is bleeding off this thing. ”
“Good idea.”
I shift my fingers to the other side of the box, to the vial.
Instantly, my skin feels cool, as if I’ve dipped my hand in ice water.
This, I pick up and hold to the light. The water refracts with rainbow colors edged in gold.
It reminds me of the light I’ve seen when I transcend to the Gold Room, the golden goddess’s plane of existence.
“What is it? What do you see?”
“This—” I lift the vial a little “—is celestial in nature. I’m not sure of its magical properties yet, but the source of the magic is the goddess.”
“The goddess?”
“Yes. The mother of all things.”
“The creator. We call her, him…them, I guess…the creator. You know for sure that the water flows from the creator, then?”
“No.” I laugh, shaking my head. “I’ll have to study it to know for sure. But if there were an office pool, that’s the square I’d put my money on.”
He snorts a laugh. “An office pool. I think I could arrange that. It might lighten the mood.”
“We are going to need some mood lightening. The aura of this ring is dreadful.”
“Truth. So, can you do your witchy thing? Take it apart and see how it works.”
I exhale hard. “Yes.”
“Excellent.”
“But I’m not powerful enough to do it on my own. I’ll have to use gold dust.” I dig into my bag for the small urn I brought from my apartment.
“What exactly is gold dust?” He eyes the urn with curiosity. “The only time I’ve heard that term used is in relation to drugs.”
I lift my chin. “That’s right. It’s a combination of salvia, mandrake, honey, and peyote.”
His eyebrows shoot toward the ceiling. “Peyote? Are you telling me there’s peyote in that mix? This isn’t like a drug. It’s an actual drug.”
“I told you that the tool I’d have to use came with a price and could be addictive.” I can feel my blood turn hot in my veins. I’m the one risking my health to help him. “You knew this before you brought me here. Why are we rehashing it?”
He takes a deep breath. “I thought it was addictive magic, not actual drugs.”
I laugh until I snort. “Oh, I get it. You think that a witch’s magic is all eye of newt and toe of frog? Wave a wand and presto?”
He frowns. “Yeah, I guess.”
“It’s not. It’s grounded in science. Science and something more. Like you are something more.”
“Oh.”
I clear my throat. “Look, witches are born with the ability to access magic, but when we are children, it usually happens by accident.
Most of the time, our first experience with it is right before we fall asleep.
We enter a trancelike state where we can commune with the golden goddess in order to wield our magic.
In our teens, we train to do this on purpose.
We learn meditation techniques. We practice wielding the elements.
By twenty-five, most of us can perform simple magic on demand.
But complex spells and enchantments require decades of practice.
“What you’re asking me to do—to view the magic that created this ring as if I’m X-raying its bones, then unlock this curse’s secrets at a detailed enough level to know how you can neutralize it somehow—only one of our elders could do that without assistance.
But the elders would never help you with this.
Even if you could figure out who they are, the coven has sworn to stay out of this war between you and the Order.
“All of that to say, gold dust is a young witch’s edge in an emergency. This combination forces us into a strong altered state. These plants have a different effect on us than other humans. It vastly improves our abilities.”
“But then you crash.”
“Yes. I’m not sure how hard. You might have to do CPR. Do you know CPR?”
He nods slowly, his face paling. “And then you want more.”
“Often. And you’ll have to give me more. There is no way I’ll get everything I need my first time ascending. This is too big of a job. Our goal will be to space the sessions so that we get what we need before my body gives out or I lose my mind.”
He scowls but says nothing more.
I pull a mirror from my bag and open the urn to dump a small pile of gold dust onto it.
It’s a tiny amount compared to what I used to do, but for this first time, I just want to dip my toe back into this magic.
I don’t know what I’m dealing with when it comes to this ring.
It’s best I’m not under for too long. I rummage through my bag again and find my ceremonial dagger—we call it an athame—and use the edge of the blade to make lines in the dust.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited for this.
The truth is, I’ve wanted to do gold dust again ever since I went cold turkey.
But I’m also dreading it. Wherever this job takes me, it will be a long road back to normalcy again.
And I’m putting my future in the hands of this dragon I barely know.
But oh goddess, I can’t wait to do it one more time.
I lean over the mirror.
“Wait.” Seb raises a hand. He has a strange look on his face as if he’s…concerned for me. But why would he be any more concerned now than before? Everything that is happening tonight, he asked for. Hell, he paid for. “Give me permission to enter your mind if something goes wrong.”
“I’m sorry, what? Enter my mind?” He’s got to be shitting me.
“It’s a dragon thing.” He comes closer to me, crouching down beside my chair even though I can tell being so close to the ring makes him uncomfortable. “I know it sounds invasive, and it requires a fair amount of trust.”
“To allow you into my mind? Yeah, I think so.”
“But, if you…get lost or have trouble controlling this…this…” He gestures at the gold dust. “I can help you back. I can ease your symptoms. I’d only do it, you understand, if you need me. But I have to ask you now, because—”
“Because once I snort this, my mind might not be my own.”
“Exactly.”
I study his face for what is probably a minute but feels much longer. He didn’t take advantage of me today, even though he could have, and if he’s asking for my consent, that means he probably deserves it. The truth is, I might need help. I don’t know how hard this is going to hit.
“You have my permission.”
He smiles a shaky smile and nods. “All right, then.”
With one more look at Seb and then the ring, I lean over the mirror again and breathe in the goddess.