“Welcome back, my love.” Merlin sidled up to Morgan’s side, and they kissed so deeply that I was compelled to glance away.
When they were done, I broached the question burning inside me.
“So, where are we going?”
Morgan gave me a sly smile. “France. Seventeenth century. I’ve found the perfect black witch, horrible and powerful. Mother Shipton believed that she was demon-touched by request. After watching her for a while, I agree.”
I cocked my head. I hadn’t heard Mother Shipton say anything about a demon-touched witch—other than me, of course.
“She told me when you went to relieve yourself,” Morgan said, reading my expression. “We didn’t want to frighten you with the prospect of a demon-touched witch, rather than just a black witch. They’re quite a level up, after all.”
“Uhhh,” Eva’s mouth was agape. “Are we sure about seeking out a demon-touched witch who’s loyal to the demons? They don’t just communicate through things like demon stones. They have a direct connection.” She pointed to her scar for emphasis.
Morgan waved a hand nonchalantly. “For the right amount of money, she’ll help anyone.”
“Who is she? Anyone we’d recognize?”
“Her given name is Catherine Montvoisin, but she goes by La Voisin,” Morgan replied as she accepted a mug of ale from Merlin.
“You’ve got to be joking me,” Diana barked out a laugh. “She poisonedthousandsof people at the French court! And held black masses! Ohhhh, sheisa baddie!”
Morgan clapped her hands together. “I know! The fact that she hid her demon-touched nature is remarkable enough. Take in the events of her life, and, well, I don’t know of another witch like her.”
Morgan’s gaze cut to me. “Don’t worry, I investigated her for a while to make sure that the royal demons weren’t around. I never caught a whiff of them. I promise that La Voisin is an ideal teacher. She probably considered herself a black witch long before she asked to be touched by a royal—she knows much of the darker side of magic. Equally important, she’s motivated by money, which we will supply her heartily with.”
Eva and I shared a pointed look.
Someone who poisoned a court and called a royal demon master didn’t seem like an ideal candidate for anything. But in this case, the pickings were never going to be good. At least now that we could use a binding spell against anyone wielding demon power, Eva and I could defend ourselves if shit hit the fan. Which, with us around, it probably would.
After a few long seconds, Eva broke our stare. “When do we leave?”
Morgan’s lips curled up mischievously. “Tomorrow.”
Preparing dinner that evening was a tense affair.
Since Morgan had proclaimed that Eva and I were leaving in the morning, Hunter and Alex had becomeveryprotective.
Other than when I needed to do my business in the woods, Alex hadn’t left me alone for more than a second. And when the group gathered for our typical supper of pheasant stew and bread, he sat so close, he was practically in my lap.
I cleared my throat and gestured to the lack of space between our butts on the bench. “Babe, I love you, but a little room, please?”
He glanced down and his cheeks reddened as he scooted over. “Sorry.”
I laid a hand on his forearm. “It’s okay. I realize that you’re worried, but we’ll be with Morgan. And we know a black spell now. We can bind the witch if we need to make a quick getaway. Everything will be fine.”
“That’s what Eva says too.” Hunter sat across from us with two bowls of stew. Eva was just behind him, carrying her own bowl heaping high, and a basket of rolls.
If I thought we ate a lot at Spellcasters, it was nothing compared to what we consumed here. Something about being out of our own time period, in addition to practicing magic, burned a crapload of calories. The food was excellent, although it didn’t make me miss cuisine from my own era any less. I’d been dreaming of Hawaiian pizza fairly routinely since we arrived here.
“We need to trust the process, but I get it, cuz,” Hunter acknowledged. “It’s hard to see them go.”
“Exactly,” Alex muttered. “I don’t like being separated from any of you. Especially not by centuries.”
“For sure,” Hunter agreed, arching a brow. “It’s not like we can just run down the road to save you if something bad happens.”
Eva scoffed. “Save us? What do we look like, damsels in distress?” She kissed Hunter’s forehead to soften her words. “But Odie’s right. I bet the binding spell can stop a demon-touched witch long enough for us to get out of there.”
“And if Morgan is right, and La Voisin is amenable to teaching us, we’ll learn even more life-changing magic,” I added.
