“Oh, Wands, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said!”
“You know I hate it when you call me Wands.” She let out a groan of protest but didn’t actually push me away when I leaned across the table to give her a hug. She sloshed a little of her drink on my sleeve, but I didn’t care.
“Love you too.”
“Oh put an ice cube in it, Poppy. This is just embarrassing.”
I grinned. “You love me, and I’m your best friend.”
She sighed. “If you insist.”
I wasn’t sure what I might have said to that but a knock at the door saved me the trouble of finding a reply. When I crossed over to it though, I found no one waiting for me on the front step. Instead, there was a box full of old books. My cousin Lydia had followed me from the living room to the front door and looked downright eager at the sight of the books.
“Books?” I asked, lifting one from the pile. The front cover and the edges were extremely worn. And the spine was almost worse. Even though the title appeared to be penned in a different language, I picked up the word “Alchemy”.
“What’s that,” Lydia said as she reached down and retrieved a little note that had fallen down one side of the box. She heldit up and I could make out Smith’s signature. “I think you just received treasure from a dragon.”
“He brought me Alchemy books?” I asked.
Lydia nodded. “I’d say he wants to help you succeed.”
I gave the book in my hand a narrow-eyed look. “Alchemie für Anfänger,” I said slowly, drawing the words out as I tried to get the pronunciation right. “I’m pretty sure that’s German. But no clue what it means.”
“I took German in high school,” Lydia offered. “And though I’m not fluent by any means, I’d guess that one there is basically an Alchemy for Dummies book.”
If ever a book was suited to me, this one was it. Because where alchemy was concerned, I felt like the biggest dummy.
Chapter Six
Much later that evening, after Finn was fast asleep and the girls from the Black Cat Cocktail Club had made their way home, I brushed my fingers over the velvet spine ofAlchemie für Anfänger, shuddering when a small pulse of magic eased into my fingertips.
It might have been my imagination, but I swore the leather was responding to my touch, arching like a pleased cat on my lap as I stroked it. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’d ever seen. After all, my boyfriend worked hand-in-ribbon with a walking, loudly rustling living book.
But these books were old enough to make Ouire look like a new release. Most of the leather bindings were cracked, dark, scar-like stripes of the underlying material peeking through. The yellow vellum pages had paled to an almost buttery shade, which made me worry about the structural integrity of the tome. It felt like one wrong move would split the whole thing down the middle. But the most interesting part was that the interior was all handwritten. Someone had to have spent a ton of time working on these books.
I’d given up using Google Translate to read the introduction a few lines in. From the yellowing pages and the slanting writing, I had to guess that the diction and word choice might be beyond the capabilities of an online translator. If this book was a few centuries old, the text was probably incomprehensible, even if I had my nouns and verbs in a row. Language evolved. What I needed was someone who’d spoken Old German when it had still beenNewGerman. Or Prussian…Or Austrian. Which meant I’d need to consult an expert. Which, thankfully, I had. I made a mental note to call Olga Fischer in the morning.
Olga was a witch from the Scapegrace Coven. The first time we’d met, she’d been held captive by Wanda’s mother. We’dmanaged to spring her from her imprisonment, but it had nearly cost Wanda her life. My blood had brought Wanda back from the brink long enough to get her a real transfusion at a hospital. Just thinking about how close she’d come was enough to chill me when I really thought about it.
I’d almost lost my best friend. And I still could. There were people after her. People who wanted her dead.
The thought was enough to galvanize me, solidifying my doubt into a purpose. Iwouldget better at this alchemy thing. I had to, because I had to protect those who were close to me. Already, my alchemy had saved Finn when he needed me most. I wasn’t about to let Wanda down either.
“Still petting it, love?”
I jerked in place with a small yelp, my hand flying away from the book cover. One hand came up in a purely defensive gesture, my fingers splayed as though I was about to catch a softball. But instead of empty air, there was a flare of golden light. It fizzled out almost the second I registered who’d spoken and that he wasn’t a threat.
Andre rounded the couch and stopped shy of dropping into the seat next to me. He raised a brow at me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, but was that…?”
“Magic,” I answered in a breathless whisper. I’d seen what he had. The glimmer of gold in my palm. My own magic made manifest because of the coven I’d been roped into.
I pressed the traitorous hand flat against my thigh, afraid of what else I might do with this unrestrained power I didn’t understand. If I’d managed this when spooked by someone benign, what could it do when I got well and truly scared?
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
Andre slid in beside me, arms going around my waist in a gesture as automatic as breathing. I leaned my head against his shoulder. With him so close, breathing in his heady scent, thedoubts waned. I knew when he touched me he meant it. There was no mistaking the adoration in his eyes. I didn’t understand why it was aimed at me, but I was going to have to start accepting that it was.
Easier said than done, with my history. Was it fair to compare him to the ghosts of boyfriends past? No. Would I continue to do exactly that? Probably. I couldn’t help but look for the signs that he was too good to be true. But I was getting better at it. Instead of doubts plaguing me 50,000 times a day. We were probably down to a few hundred.
