“Did you think I could be bonded to a demon and not find out?”
“I suppose that makes sense.” She heaved a sigh. “Come in, then.”
Harriette’s house smelled a little musty, and she’d thrown open the windows. She was obviously using her magic, because while the fresh air streamed in, there was none of the heat that had made sweat dampen my hairline all day.
Stained glass windows attracted the light, throwing rainbows onto the marble floors. We followed Harriette into a sitting room off the main entrance and she gestured for us to take a seat on her white sectional. Vas appeared to make himself at home, arranging his wings while I took in the high ceilings with exposed beams and let my gaze drift to the stone fireplace.
It had been winter when we left. I’d sat in front of that fireplace, staring into the flames while my mom murmured to Harriette, hiccupping out the occasional sob.
“Wait right here,” Harriette instructed. She returned a few minutes later with a tray of cookies and three steaming cups of coffee.
“I wasn’t sure if you preferred coffee or tea.”
“Coffee, definitely,” I said. I reached for the coffee just as Vas reached for his, and his arm knocked into mine. “Shit.”
The coffee spilled, arching toward the cream sofa. It was as if time rewound as the liquid froze in the air, then streamed back into the cup.
I hadn’t done that for a while. And my shields had been up. Selina would be proud. I glanced at Harriette. She gave me a watery smile. “Your magic is so much like your mother’s, you know. All instinct. Your witch magic, anyway.”
Vas leaned back on the sofa, his cup in his hand.
I sighed. “I know you placed the suppression spell on me, Harriette.”
Her eyes widened. “And what makes you think that?”
I hadn’t been sure, but the cagey look on her face confirmed it. “Light fae can sometimes suppress demon magic. You’re the only one with motive and the only light fae I remember being around when I was a kid.”
“I wasn’t powerful enough to do it alone,” she said quietly. “I had to ask a friend to help.”
I stared her down. “Why?”
“There are many reasons why children of your blood are dangerous. One of them is the power swings that occur, especially during puberty. Your mom had no one to help her. She was going on the run. It was the best solution.”
I sneered. “My power was suppressed when I was too young to remember it. She didn’t know she would have to run then.”
Betrayal. It was betrayal that was creeping up my throat and choking me. My mom had left me powerless in a world where power meant safety.
Harriette heaved a long-suffering sigh. “She always knew she’d have to run at some point.”
“And you never helped her? Instead, you magically neutered me! It wasn’t just demon power that you suppressed— I couldn’t access witch magic either. I couldn’t even set a fucking ward.”
“You could set a ward. You just needed to use your blood.”
“And how would I know to do that?” I asked through my teeth.
“We both know you weren’t interested in using your power.”
“Because I had none to use!”
She laughed. “Would you truly have used your power as an adult? You loathed the witches with every fiber of your being.”
If she knew that, she’d been watching me more closely than she’d wanted me to know.
“I loathe the witches because when my mother ran to them for help, they convinced her to leave my sister with them and take me on the run. That coven was one of the most powerful in Durham and they left her alone. And yes, if I’d known I had enough magic to keep me alive, I would’ve used it.”
She merely raised one eyebrow. I put my coffee back on the tray so I wasn’t tempted to throw it at her. “At the expense of becoming over-reliant on it? On never learning the skills you needed from Edward?”
I went still. “How do you know about Edward?”
