“Then why did you?” she asked.
“Because I couldn’t help myself,” he replied. “For a moment, I was surrounded by the heat and ferocity of your magic, and it was intoxicating, like you. It drew me in until all I could see, all I could feel, was you. My mind simply ceased to function, and I acted on instinct alone.”
“You think wanting me is a sin?” she asked.
“Any physical contact between a man and a woman outside the marriage bed is a sin. It’s fornication.”
“Theo,” she said softly. “I’m not going to tell you what you should or shouldn’t believe. I understand that you were raised as a Puritan and you have a certain belief system, but the whole world isn’t split into two camps of righteousness and sin. Sometimes you have to trust your own judgment. You’re not going to burn in fire and brimstone just because you’re attracted to me.”
He stared at her.
“Okay, answer me this,” she said. “You know what I am?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “You’re a witch.”
“That’s right,” she replied. “And in your heart, do you believe I’m evil? Pay no attention to what your mind is saying. What does your gut tell you?”
“No, I don’t believe you’re evil,” he conceded.
“The world is a much bigger place than you can possibly imagine, Theo. I’m not going to lie—the adjustment has been a bit rough on you and it’ll probably get worse before it gets better. The only advice I can give you is to have an open mind. If you’re having a moral crisis, then talk to Jake, he’s a Christian, or there’s a lovely little church in town. I’m sure the pastor would be more than happy to counsel you. Ask the questions, find your own answers. It’s hard questioning everything you were taught as a child but blindly following such a strict form of religion will cause a lot of problems.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Theo, you’ve already seen part of what I can do. You know witches are real, and we’re nothing like the cackling, child-eating, crop-killing old hags you were taught about. You felt what was in the woods, and you saw that creature. I get the feeling this is only the beginning. If you really want to stick around and help, if you’re really serious about protecting me, then you have to make peace with your beliefs, and you have to find your line.”
“My line?” he repeated.
“Between right and wrong, good and evil,” she answered. “Whatever you want to call it. Nothing is ever black and white. There’s this whole gray area in the middle that we exist in. You’re going to have to figure out where your head’s at, and that’s something I can’t help you with.”
There was a lot of sense in what she was saying. Since he’d landed in Mercy, he’d seen and felt things he never would have believed possible, but the thing he struggled with most was his feelings for Olivia. It conflicted with every single thing he’d ever been taught. The problem was, when he was with her, he didn’t care. He would take the damnation, and that’s what scared him the most.
“You should take a shower,” he muttered, his expression troubled.
Olivia watched him turn and walk out the room, closing the door quietly behind him, and she sighed.
Stripping off her nightgown and panties, she hobbled forward on sore feet and winced as she eased her aching body under the hot water. She scrubbed away the dirt, hissing at the sting of the soap against deep scrapes on her hands. Water pooled pink around her bloodied feet as she let the stream cascade over her, rinsing away the rest of the dirt and dried blood. When a wave of exhaustion had her almost slumping against the cold tiles she reached out and shut off the rapidly cooling water.
Gingerly stepping out of the shower and trying not to put too much weight on her injured ankle, she wound a towel around her damp hair and lifted her thick, fluffy robe from the back of the door, wrapping it around her trembling body.
She limped into her room to find Theo sat on the edge of her bed, deep in thought. In his hands was a familiar tin. Old and dented, it was the one her grandmother had always used as a first aid kit. Jake must’ve found it and brought it upstairs.
Theo looked up as she sat down on the bed next to him and watched in silence as Olivia pulled the towel from her hair and ran her fingers through the worst of the tangles. Pooling what little energy she had left, she allowed the heat to travel up her neck to her scalp until it felt like it was tingling with static electricity. As the warmth of her magic dried her hair it coiled into loose waves that cascaded down her back.
Once she was done, he handed her the small tin box. Olivia opened it up to find a half-squeezed tube of some sort of suspicious-looking ointment, some bandages, and a nearly empty bottle of cough syrup that expired in 1998. Shaking her head in amusement, she smiled. It was exactly like Aunt Evie not to bother to keep a well-stocked first aid kit, preferring her home remedies and simple kitchen magic to modern medicine. She shuffled aside some evil-looking smelling salts from... 1954? Seriously?
Chuckling aloud, she picked up a shiny black jar, sealed with wax. Only to stare at it in astonishment.
“What’s that?” Theo reached over as she handed him the jar.
He turned it over in his hands a couple of times, but seeing nothing remarkable about it, he handed it back.
“If I’m right…” Olivia whispered as she cracked the seal and opened the jar. A strong waft of poppies filled the air, and Olivia smiled. “It’s Aunt Evie’s salve. She used to make it when I was a kid. I remember her putting it on my skinned knees.”
Olivia’s expression was wistful as she thought back to her aunt. “She always had a way with healing,” she murmured.
“Is it any good?” Theo asked curiously.
She smiled. “Watch.” She took a small dollop from the pot.
