“No witch would sell that monster a potion—anypotion—much less one of this caliber,” my father nixed that theory immediately. But then he added an exception, “Unless that witch had something to gain through the exchange. I believe that whoever crafted this had their own motivations. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that Scylla was manipulated by the witch.”
“So, our enemy is definitely a witch,” Verin growled in conclusion.
“Yes,” my father grudgingly admitted. “The potion has distinct witch attributes.”
“Were you able to find a signature?” I asked my father.
“No, but there's only one type of witch who can cast illusions—potions or otherwise.”
“Water Witches,” I announced grimly.
My father nodded, then shot back his drink.
“Like Vivian?” Verin asked with a shrewd look at my dad.
“Like Vivian,” my father confirmed.
A few years ago, Dad may have added that it couldn't be Vivian—she was a witch leader and therefore, beyond reproach. But not anymore. Now, he knew that no one was above reproach. Not even best friends or witch leaders.
“But wouldn't you recognize Vivian's signature?” My hands had clenched into fists. I'd been prepared to discover that a witch had betrayed me, but notthatwitch.
“She's powerful enough to hide it if she wishes to,” my mother answered for Dad. “Which, in itself, is a type of signature.”
“Are you saying that it's likely Vivian?” I asked carefully.
“I'm saying that the facts are: this is an illusion potion, there's no signature, and the potion is powerful,” my father said. “It's not conclusive evidence against Vivian.”
“But it's a possibility,” my mother added.
“I don't know why Vivian would conspire to kill you,” my dad forced the words past thinned lips, “but it would explain why the love spell has gone wrong.”
“Sweet stones,” I whispered. “It really could be her.”
“Yes,” Dad grumbled, “and that changes things a little.”
“We've discussed it and we think that you should wait until you find concrete evidence to prove Vivian's innocence before you speak to her about the love spell,” Mom said.
“If she's innocent,” Verin said.
“Well, if she isn't, seeking her help would be stupid,” Mom huffed.
“One more thing.” My dad tossed me the potion bottle. “There are a few components in there that I don't recognize. I don't think you should speak to Vivian but I do think that we should consult Odin.”
“Okay.” I rolled the bottle in my hand pensively. Then something occurred to me. “Water Witches also have the gift of sight,” I said in revelation.
“Yeah,” Dad muttered. “It's not always reliable but when it works, it can be damn irritating.” Then he scowled. “Why do you mention it?”
“Because Scylla killed one of Verin's advisers and took his place several days before I arrived. We thought that Scylla's original plan had been to go after Verin and she just got lucky when I showed up. But now, I don't think that's what happened at all.”
“She knew you'd be there,” my mother whispered.
“And now we know how she knew,” I said as I shared a dark look with Verin. “She wasn't coming after you; it's been me all along. I'm so sorry, Verin.”
“I'm not,” he said firmly. “Scylla would have attacked you wherever you were. I'm glad it happened when you were with me because it means I'm the one helping you hunt your enemies.”
“You are a hell of a man,” I whispered as I stared up at him in wonder.
Verin pulled me into an embrace and tucked his head over mine. “As long as I'm your man.”
