“How is that possible? My mother was thirty-nine when she died. Thekey was her creation.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Maeve sighs. “The key shape is a sigil developed by a secret society of witches and wizards with very rare magic fueled by dragon’s blood. There have only been a few hundred members of the Order of the Dragon throughout history. Your parents were two of them. Your mother came from a family of witches, the Townsends —I found them in the book once I researched her maiden name and discovered her birthplace. She joined the Order of the Dragon as an adult. They practiced outside of London until she met your father. He wasn't a witch but came from a family of spiritualists, the Harcourts. I used to think your grandmother was exaggerating about the stories, but now I wonder if there really are ghosts in this house, El. Your mom initiated your father into the order and when he drank dragon's blood he gained powers. Afterward they both adopted that sigil on your back and developed the spell inside of it. The Harcourt family keyspell. They both drank dragon’s blood, Eloise, before they conceived you. Their blood is your blood. And you initiated yourself into the coven the day you tattooed that key with those runes on your back.”
“So, I am part witch?”
“You have witch blood, and dragon blood, and Harcourt blood. You’re magical.” Her gaze drops to her tangled fingers, and she rests her elbows on her knees. "There's no one like you. There's nothing like you."
“How is this all possible?” I believe her, but I can't wrap my head around it all.
After drawing a slow, deep breath, she says, “Usually, when it comes to sigils, another witch has to be present to ignite the magic once it’s in your skin, basically prime the spell until it can start drawing from its host. I, uh, I waswith you the night you got your tattoo. Do you remember how much it hurt?”
I do remember. “We were both drunk, and I asked you to use your witchy powers to numb the pain.”
“You were always joking about my witchy powers. We both pretended they weren’t real.”
“But they were,” I say breathlessly. “They are. And when you touched the tattoo, the pain went away.”
“I’ve never been any good at healing. The pain went away because the sigil was primed with my magic. It became part of you.”
I push myself up to a seated position just as silver light cascades through the window and the blood-colored leaves of the mighty red oak tree in the front yard become visible. I can’t help but think of Damien, how he'd stood there, watching me through the window the first night we met. I try to picture him in his underground room in Night Haven. I wonder if he’s thinking of me. “So the keyspell...?”
“I think it’s exactly what your mother said it was.”
Fuck. The idea that what I experienced was real sends goosebumps marching across my skin. “She told me that everything I need to know is in the attic.” My voice trembles.
Maeve stands and walks over to me, taking my hand. “This is a lot. Try not to worry about it. I’ll help you when you’re better. We’ll practice your magic, together.”
“You’d do that for me? Still?”
“Of course. You’re the only best friend I’ve ever had. I’d like to keep you.” Maeve winks.
“I should’ve told you how I felt about Damien and that I planned to free him. I should’ve trusted that you’d do the right thing.” A stray tear leaks from the corner of my eye, and Iwipe it away.
“Yeah, you should have. But honestly, I’m not sure we would’ve agreed on what constituted the right thing.” She frowns.
I rub my face. “I love him, Maeve. Like I never loved Tony. Love like you read about.”
She doesn’t smile. Her face becomes as expressionless as a stone.
“Maeve, say something. I know you think he’s a monster, but?—”
“No, Eloise, I don’tthinkhe’s a monster. Heisa monster. He’s a shade, a rare and powerful relation to vampires, which is, by definition, a monster. But even monsters fall in love. Your feelings are real, and based on what I saw tonight, he loves you too. I want to be happy for you. I do. But you must know this relationship will be… complicated.”
“Isn’t every relationship?”
“He’ll never have breakfast with you. No picnics in the park. No church on Sunday morning. Your life is spent in the sun. He’s a creature of shadow.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
Maeve sighs. “There’s one more thing. A big thing. Something I tried to tell you before, but you wouldn't listen. When a vampire drinks a witch’s blood, it has a bonding effect on the vampire. It’s how triunes are usually made. The witch bonds the vampire with her blood and lures the shifter with her promise of helping him control his curse. Shades are like vampires. They’re possible to bind by blood.”
“I haven’t bound him. I love him. This is real,” I sayadamantly.
“I believe you. But?—”
“But?”
Before you give your heart away, just make sure it’syouhe loves and not the magic in your veins.”
