I agreed.
“As much as we try keeping your return secret,”she continued, “there will come a day when we can’t. It’s inevitable.”
Again, I agreed.
“In the meantime, I can only hope Stefan doesn’t start killing people for real,” she added.
I picked up my tea. “At least you don’t have to speak to him directly.”
“Until I do.” She dunked her cookie in her tea. “Life changes so quickly.”
A hattrick of agreement from me.
After I sipped on my black tea, I told her about Helen and her ultimatum.
Erin took her time mulling over it, consuming a whole cookie before she answered.
“Sorry about this,” I said during her munching.
“Does she know about you?” she asked.
“Not yet. But she’s hard to say no to. I have to do this. But how do I make myself not look like a witchcop?”
“There is a potion which might help,” she said. “It’s only used for mild effects, so it might not work on glamouring. We can try, though. And if you make it with Riley, it may boost its magical effect.” She picked up another cookie. “I’ll also speak to Jake about any potential antidotes the High Coven might have, in case the potion fails.”
“Thank you.”
She offered me a sympathetic look. “What dreadful timing.”
“That’s Helen for you.” I rolled my eyes, then checked my watch. “I’ll go make this potion.”
She made a call to Ollie, asking him to help me with the ingredients.
Oh, goody. I’m sure he loved hearingthat.
“Ollie will meet you in the attic spell room. I have an email to send,” she said. “I’ll come find you shortly.”
“Okay.” I got up. “I really am sorry.”
“Water under the bridge, Isaac.” Her smile dropped. “I heard a lot worse from your aunt and uncle.”
Shit. That hit me in the guts with a bowling ball. I apologized for them next.
“Never speak for them,” she countered. “Their words were their choices.”
Noted. Hard. I’d try to be a lot more careful. If I died prematurely, I didn’t want my legacy mired in the same muck as my relatives.
I left her to it, my conscience a tad lighter, making my way to the attic.
The first thing Ollie did was eye up my outfit with disdain—although that might just be my sensitivities.
The first thingIdid was admire how good he looked in the white vest and faded blue jeans he worked so well.
Yum.
“The grimoire is open to the right page,” he said, his hands in his pockets.
Judging by his body language, he really wanted to be elsewhere.
