She frowned, trembling as her hand tightened around the hilt of the knife. “Either a witch or a fae owns this knife,” she said finally. “I’m sorry I can’t narrow it down further. This knife has seen… a lot of blood.”
Witch or fae. Great. There was no way I’d be able to get an audience with either of the fae kings, but I should be able to meet with one of their representatives if I flashed my demon mark around. The fae and demons had a tentative truce, and no one wanted to push them into war.
Selina placed the knife back on the table with a shudder and opened her eyes. They were haunted.
I cleared my throat. “Do you… see what happened?”
“I see flashes. I feel the emotions of both the victim and the murderer. You should be careful,” she warned. “Whoever owns this knife has no conscience. They would enjoy killing you if you get in their way.”
The memory of that chilling laugh swept over me and I shivered. “Yeah, I got that.”
Selina held her finger close to the hilt of the knife, pointing at the runes, which looked like upside-down letters. “Whoever created this knife is certainly not an expert. This rune represents deception, lies, trickery.”
“What about the U?”
She smiled. “Think of it more like an upside-down N. This is Uruz. In this case, it likely represents someone’s strength being used against them, and a loss of health. Finally, Thurisaz reversed”– she pointed at the final rune, which was a stick with a triangle jutting out of it— “that likely means defenselessness, compulsion, and betrayal.” She sighed. “Ugly business. The demons killed would have died a terrible death.”
I thought of that black smudge. “They did. Thanks for your help. Uh… one more thing if you don’t mind.”
She nodded and I pulled the picture from my pocket.
“Have you ever seen this woman?”
Selina narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.
“Her face seems familiar, but I can’t place her. I might’ve seen her once before, but nothing comes to mind.” Her mouth twisted in sympathy at whatever she saw on my face. “Your mother?”
“Yes.” Something about her made me trust her enough to ask the question that had been burning through me like acid since I left Samael’s.
“If a suppression spell was placed on a witch’s magic, how would she go about lifting it?”
She gave me a tiny, knowing smile. “Theoretically?”
I rolled my eyes at myself. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Ihave a suppression spell on my magic,” I admitted. “I just learned about it. I always thought I was one of the least powerful witches around, but it seems I may have more magic than I’d thought.”
“Do you know why the suppression spell was placed?”
I shook my head. “It must’ve been placed when I was young enough that I can’t remember it.”
Selina angled her head, the rainbow hoops in her ears swaying with the movement. “A suppression spell is one of the most traumatic events a paranormal can go through. It’s possible that you were old enough to remember it, but your brain has shielded you, blocking it from your memories.”
“I don’t understand why someone would’ve blocked my magic.”
Her lips curved. “You’re far too young to be a threat to the witch community, and if the High Coven had ordered for the spell to be done, it would be public record.”
Of course it would. And I’d find copies of any High Coven rulings in the Mage Council library at the facility.
“If you like, I can take a look. I understand if you would prefer for me not to check beneath your shields, however.”
I bit my lip. I’d just met Selina. Yet, unlike Hannah— the witch I’d met while stealing the dagger from Samael’s dragon— Selina didn’t seem like a threat.
Oh, she was powerful. But she radiated peace. A tiny voice in my head wondered if that was her power— the ability to make me drop my guard.
One of the nastier skills that witches kept hidden from the public was the ability to harness each other’s power. White witches wouldn’t consider such a thing, but most witches ran the gamut from lily white to as black as a demon’s feathers. Just like most people, no witch was truly all-white or all-black. Everyone had shades of gray.
But I needed information. I needed to know who’d placed the spell, why they’d placed it, and how I could break it. Because whoever was killing these demons was powerful, and accessing more of my magic might just keep me alive.
Selina waited patiently while I weighed the pros and cons, getting up from the table to stir her soup before reaching for a loaf of bread and cutting it into slices.
