They had at least pointed me in the right direction. I would just have to muddle through it from here.
“Would you like to discuss why you’re really here?” Sarah asked with a knowing gaze.
I stilled. That was the second time she’d acted like she knew my real purpose. Either she was incredibly adept at reading body language or she really did know why I was here. I wasn’t sure which would be worse for me. Though if it was the second, I had to wonder how she knew so much about my business.
I gave her a sharp smile, the one I’d perfected when a guy did that mansplaining thing that used to drive me crazy when I was younger.
“I have a friend with a problem. He thinks he was hexed at some point in the distant past. Since I occasionally do jobs for your faction, he thought I might know someone who could tell him how to lift a hex.”
Sarah’s dark eyes remained focused on me with a hawk like intensity. I had a feeling I wasn’t fooling her, but that was alright. I didn’t need to. She just needed to give me a hint.
“There are two ways to lift a hex. One is to find the witch who placed the hex and have her lift it. The second would be to locate a descendant to help him break it.”
“How will having a descendant help?” I wanted to be very clear on what would happen to the descendant.
She gave me a dark smile. “A descendant carries his blood and can be used to circumvent the curse.”
“How?”
“Blood recognizes blood. If your friend was to attempt to turn someone who shares the same bloodline as him, he might be able to circumvent the hex. This of course depends on how diluted the bloodline has become. If the descendant is too far removed from the family tree, the hex will kick in and they will die.”
I fought the urge to growl. Even if I found this descendant, how could I hand them over to Thomas knowing exactly how dangerous he was?
“You guys don’t have a default spell that could remove it?”
“Not for one as powerful as what is on your friend.”
Sarah’s peaceful smile told me she knew exactly why I was here. I hadn’t fooled her at all with my questions about the victims.
“Don’t suppose you could tell me who placed the hex.”
“Not without—”
“Owing you a favor. Yeah, yeah.”
Same song, different dance.
This wasn’t worth owing the witches a favor. Especially not one with Sarah’s obvious power.
Miriam’s face was carefully blank as she watched the two of us. She’d never been particularly expressive in our interactions, but there had been something. Even if it was only amusement at my expense. It made me wonder what she thought of this conversation, or if she might have more to add if Sarah wasn’t around.
It left me with something to think about. Perhaps this avenue wasn’t as much of a dead end as I thought.
“This has been fun, but I have other things to do tonight.”
I stood and adjusted my bag.
“Before you go, please try some of our tea. It’s new. Just arrived.” Sarah gestured to the table where I hadn’t noticed three cups of steaming tea.
I controlled my expression of disgust. Tea. Not my favorite drink. I’d liked it well enough as a human but after my transition to vampire I couldn’t stand the stuff. It tasted odd, like lost opportunities. Or maybe that was just the taste of pond water.
I wanted to say no. It always seemed like the taste of tea lingered hours after it was long gone. From the implacable expression on Sarah’s face, I had a feeling it wouldn’t go over well if I refused.
I gave her a strained smile and picked up one of the cups. The smell made my eyes water. It smelled like no tea I’d ever tasted, and that was not a compliment. The closest I could get to describing it was a cross between a sewer and unwashed socks. Not something I would put in my body if I had my preference.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I took a large gulp, trying not to taste it. Tea was meant to be sipped, not chugged like beer at a frat party. The taste made the promise of pain worth it as the heat burned the roof of my mouth and tongue. I didn’t slow down, wanting it gone.
When the cup was empty, I set it down.
