Chapter Six
Much later that evening, after Finn was fast asleep and the girls from the Black Cat Cocktail Club had made their way home, I brushed my fingers over the velvet spine of Alchemie für Anf?nger, shuddering when a small pulse of magic eased into my fingertips.
It might have been my imagination, but I swore the leather was responding to my touch, arching like a pleased cat on my lap as I stroked it. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’d ever seen. After all, my boyfriend worked hand-in-ribbon with a walking, loudly rustling living book.
But these books were old enough to make Ouire look like a new release.
Most of the leather bindings were cracked, dark, scar-like stripes of the underlying material peeking through.
The yellow vellum pages had paled to an almost buttery shade, which made me worry about the structural integrity of the tome.
It felt like one wrong move would split the whole thing down the middle.
But the most interesting part was that the interior was all handwritten.
Someone had to have spent a ton of time working on these books.
I’d given up using Google Translate to read the introduction a few lines in.
From the yellowing pages and the slanting writing, I had to guess that the diction and word choice might be beyond the capabilities of an online translator.
If this book was a few centuries old, the text was probably incomprehensible, even if I had my nouns and verbs in a row.
Language evolved. What I needed was someone who’d spoken Old German when it had still been New German.
Or Prussian…Or Austrian. Which meant I’d need to consult an expert.
Which, thankfully, I had. I made a mental note to call Olga Fischer in the morning.
Olga was a witch from the Scapegrace Coven.
The first time we’d met, she’d been held captive by Wanda’s mother.
We’d managed to spring her from her imprisonment, but it had nearly cost Wanda her life.
My blood had brought Wanda back from the brink long enough to get her a real transfusion at a hospital.
Just thinking about how close she’d come was enough to chill me when I really thought about it.
I’d almost lost my best friend. And I still could. There were people after her. People who wanted her dead.
The thought was enough to galvanize me, solidifying my doubt into a purpose. I would get better at this alchemy thing. I had to, because I had to protect those who were close to me. Already, my alchemy had saved Finn when he needed me most. I wasn’t about to let Wanda down either.
“Still petting it, love?”
I jerked in place with a small yelp, my hand flying away from the book cover.
One hand came up in a purely defensive gesture, my fingers splayed as though I was about to catch a softball.
But instead of empty air, there was a flare of golden light.
It fizzled out almost the second I registered who’d spoken and that he wasn’t a threat.
Andre rounded the couch and stopped shy of dropping into the seat next to me. He raised a brow at me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, but was that…?”
“Magic,” I answered in a breathless whisper. I’d seen what he had. The glimmer of gold in my palm. My own magic made manifest because of the coven I’d been roped into.
I pressed the traitorous hand flat against my thigh, afraid of what else I might do with this unrestrained power I didn’t understand. If I’d managed this when spooked by someone benign, what could it do when I got well and truly scared?
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
Andre slid in beside me, arms going around my waist in a gesture as automatic as breathing.
I leaned my head against his shoulder. With him so close, breathing in his heady scent, the doubts waned.
I knew when he touched me he meant it. There was no mistaking the adoration in his eyes.
I didn’t understand why it was aimed at me, but I was going to have to start accepting that it was.
Easier said than done, with my history. Was it fair to compare him to the ghosts of boyfriends past?
No. Would I continue to do exactly that?
Probably. I couldn’t help but look for the signs that he was too good to be true.
But I was getting better at it. Instead of doubts plaguing me 50,000 times a day. We were probably down to a few hundred.
“Don’t be. It was an accident. You’ll learn how it works soon.”
“You really think so?”
He gave me the smile that always calmed me down. “I know so. There’s nothing you can’t learn when you put your mind to it and...” He lifted the book gingerly from my lap. “Now you have this book and the others from Smith. I won’t be offended if you prefer the company of a good book tonight, Poppy.”
I took the book back from him, power tingling across my fingers as I set it aside.
I wasn’t sure who reached for whom first, just that I was in his arms moments later.
Under his hands, his drugging kisses, I felt beautiful.
Wanted. Incredible. This was what it was like to be with someone you loved unconditionally and who loved you unconditionally in return.
So why did I get so nervous whenever he was away from me?
“Should I take this as an invitation to move upstairs?” he asked with a husky laugh.
The sound was enough to stoke the ember that had flared to violent life in my belly. I felt warm, my skin too tight, as though I needed to loosen up with a few dozen erotic stretch routines.
“Well, I can’t read German,” I started with a smile. “And I think it would be rude to consult Olga Fischer at this hour.”
Andre chuckled. “Very thoughtful of you.”
“I thought so.”
I pulled him down for another kiss. There was no more talking after that.