“Perhaps you should take the dragons back their egg. I'll keep Clara company.”
“The fuck you will. Get your own witch,” Omen snarls and shoves the dragon egg into Dimitri's chest. “Take this back and get us the right egg.”
Dimitri opens his mouth to argue and I clear my throat. “Please and thank you, Dimitri.”
His eyes narrow and I swear smoke swirls in them. “Fine. But I'm doing this foryoubecause you're actually nice to me. And you have manners.”
He snatches up the egg and vanishes. Thunder rumbles overhead and I glance up. The ceiling flashes, revealing dark swirling clouds overhead. In a blink, it's back to normal, thoughwhat's normal, I don't know. I feel like I should know more about this place. My mother probably has some books about it I tucked away in my spell room. They were written by witches, though, so I don't know how accurate they'd be.
“We should actually talk now, shouldn't we?” I whisper.
“Suppose we should. What did you want to talk about?”
“Well, my spellsickness, which I'm still not convinced that's what it was, is gone. You didn't die a horrific death at the bottom of a chasm. And I'm in Hell after falling into your summoning circle.”
“None of those are things we need to actually talk about. We've settled all of those…issues.” He settles onto the stool next to me and sighs. “You can't stay in Hell, Clara.”
I nod, hiding the stab of pain his announcement brings. “I figured. Witches aren't exactly built for all this, huh?”
“Not usually.” He drops his elbows on the counter and stares at the bowl.
“What's that mean?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
I don't believe him, obviously. Dragging anything out of him seems damn near impossible. Despite that, he usually lets it slip eventually. I don't know how long I can wait for his walls to break down, though. I don't know if Iwantto wait.
Part of me thinks it would be easier to walk away now. Our experiences have been stilted and I'm worried I'm clinging to something I've built up in my mind. Him randomly popping into my life added to the chaos. I thrived off it when it felt like the rest of my life was falling apart.
Yet I can't deny I feel better when I'm around him. I'm happier when he's in front of me. I feel safer when I'm with him. Something is tying us together, shoving us into each other's orbits. A voice screams at me from the ether, telling me to sit up, pay attention, don't let a good thing go. In the time we've spenttogether, I've seen what my future could be—uncertain and full of hope.
“So, you'll take me back and then what?”
He clears his throat. “Actually?—”
“Got it,” Dimitri cries as he appears next to me. Omen's hand shoots out and steadies me as I rock back on the stool.
I hop down and grab the eggs from him. “Thanks, Dimitri.”
I hurry around the island and crack them into the bowl. Whatever Omen was about to say, I'm not ready for. I just want to make this bread. Omen pulls Dimitri from the room, and I swallow hard as I concentrate on the dough forming in front of me. I spend the next few minutes trying to convince myself I don't want to stay in Hell even if it was an option.
I don't succeed.
As I knead the dough, I focus on the rhythm—push, roll, turn, push, roll, turn. It's enough to center me. By the time Omen steps back into the kitchen, sans his friend, I've got my shit together. He watches me for a minute, then collapses onto the stool.
“How long will the bread take?” he asks softly.
“It's gotta rise for a bit, then it can be baked. You know how to do that?”
He snorts. “I don't even know how to turn the oven on, little witch.”
“I can show you.” My nose itches and I sniff, hoping he doesn't think I'm about to cry. I am, but that's not the point. I didn't think I'd be heartbroken over leaving Hell—over leaving him. “Then you can bake it and you'll have fresh bread.”
“Or you could just stay and do it. You don't have to leave?—”
“If I do it for you, you'll never learn.”
“And if you keep interrupting me, we'll never have a full conversation.” He shoves to his feet. “I'm going to take a shower.”
