Wylder gestures for him to take a seat at the kitchen table, and the five of us settle in. By the time he’s done filling Sebastian in on my sleepwalking incident, I’m just about ready to squirm out of my chair.
Sebastian frowns, reaches over to pull the stopper out of the vial, and points at me. “Take that now.”
Heat floods my face. “Yes, Dad.”
I do as I’m told and swallow the amber liquid in two quick gulps. It tastes like ass. Like Buckley’s cough syrup laced with fish oil and a touch of barf.
“Ew, gawd.” I gag and pinch my eyes closed as they water. “I think that was unnecessarily gross, and Thornhill knew I’d be the one drinking that.”
“I guess it doesn’t pay to piss off parents of powerful covens.” Asher hands me a glass of water, and I gulp it down, hoping to erase the bitter aftertaste.
It doesn’t work, so he hands me a snickerdoodle chaser.
Once I’m chewing the cinnamon-y bliss, things settle. “Okay, so what the hell is that vomit-snot serum supposed to do? Am I good now?”
Sebastian’s expression softens. “I’m afraid not. Despite Rowan’s demand for a complete block of Tharuzel’s influence, without having access to you or him, that wasn’t possible. I’m told it will temporarily block external magical influence from taking hold.”
“How temporarily?” Wylder asks.
“They said it could work for days or maybe weeks depending on your magical constitution.”
Orion frowns. “That’s vague and unhelpful.”
“Days? I amnotdrinking that every few days.”
Sebastian shrugs and holds up his hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I only delivered the offering. I didn’t design the spell.”
I stare at the four of them and press my palms flat on the surface of the table. My stomach is clenched and churning, and the room is starting to spin. “Okay, I need to go back to bed for a bit. Let me know when Izzy and Mom are done figuring out the psychic shield spell. Mica needs our help, and we need to be there for her so she can find that forge.”
Sebastian looks lost. “Psychic shield?”
Asher stands and holds out a hand. “Wylder can fill you in. I’m gonna take Poppy upstairs. She’s either about to hurl or collapse. Either way, she’ll feel better in her room.”
I nod, swallowing against the thickness clogging my throat. “You get me.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Iwake to the soft click of my bedroom door. For a heartbeat, panic spikes.Am I sleepwalking again?But as the shadows spilling out from the bathroom take familiar form, I realize I’m in my bed. Then, I register the silhouette framed in the doorway.
“Wylder? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, sorry. You said you wanted to be woken up when Izzy is done working on the spell and we’re ready to tackle the world’s problems.”
I blink, pushing myself up against the headboard. “Yeah, I do. What time is it?"
Wylder steps inside, leaving the door open. "A little after three."
With my blackout curtains drawn, I can’t tell whether it’s day or night. “Three in the afternoon?”
“You've been out for five solid hours.”
Okay, that’s better than sleeping the whole day away. Given how bagged I was when I laid my head down, sleeping seventeen hours wasn’t out of the cards.
“The gang is gathered downstairs, ready for you, whenever you're feeling up to it."
I run my hands over my face and give myself an inward shake. “Okay. I’m up.”
“And feeling better?”
