“Suppose so. Anyway, what exactly did you do with her after I poofed?”
“I took care of her,” he growls.
“Well, that isn’t ominous,” I mutter.
He grits his teeth, and I wonder if I’ve pushed him too far. He’s clearly going through some shit. If he’d just stop fighting his feelings, he wouldn’t be in this position. He clearly wants his little witch. I don’t see what the big deal is. My thoughts latch onto Mari, and I shake my head. Her and Clara are nothing alike, just like Omen and me. Drawing parallels between our situations will only drive me batty.
“You figure out where you’re getting summoned to?” he asks, and I wrinkle my nose, then glance away. “Are you glowing?”
My gaze snaps back to his. “What? No. Why the fuck would I be glowing? It’s not like anything happened to make me light up. I haven’t been anywhere.” I’m babbling, but I can’t seem to stop myself even as his brows pull lower the more I talk. “I mean, other than the closet in some random witch’s house. At least, I assume they’re a witch. I mean, what else could it be?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I smirk. “Who, me? Nothing. I told you it’s nothing.”
I’m fucking this up. My magic’s going haywire, there’s a weird pulsing in my chest, and Omen doesn’t look like he’s buying a damn word I’m saying.Doth protest too muchor whatever that human said. Now I really can’t tell him about Mari. He’ll just tell me to stay away from her, that nothing good comes from consorting with witches. And he certainly won’t have any advice on how to deal with this curse.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, and I brace myself. “Did you get cursed?”
“What? No.” I force out a laugh.
“Then why’s your voice all squeaky and high?” He grips the back of his neck and glances at the ceiling. “First Clara, now you. I just can’t catch a fucking break.”
This is exactly what I wanted to avoid. He doesn’t have time to take on my problems. It’s not even that big of a deal. So what if I randomly get sucked into the void and randomly get stabbing pains and light up like a freaking constellation exploding? It’s nothing I can’t handle on my own. And if this is my life for the foreseeable future, it’s fine.My mind finally fully registers what he said, and my mouth drops open.
“Wait, Clara’s cursed too?” I grimace when he gives me a look. “Fine, Imightbe. What’s wrong with Clara? Is she still here?”
I may not be able to figure out my own issues, but concentrating on Omen’s might snap me out of this. At the very least, it’ll focus Omen and maybe he’ll keep her around. She seemed nice the very few times I met her—exactly what Omen needs.
“I’m not telling you shit. It’ll only get both of us in trouble.”
I tap my finger on my chin, more to get the nervous energy out than anything, then nod. “Fine, but you know you’re going to need my help. Especially if she’s cursed.”
He doesn’t need my help. I’m talking out of my ass, and he probably knows it. Then again, he might be so distracted he won’t call me out on my bullshit. I need something to latch onto, though.
He runs his hand through his hair. “She’s not cursed. She’s spell sick.”
A grin splits my face despite a numbness spreading from my fingers and up my arms. “Omen, seriously? You know what to do. She’s spell sick and you’re her soulbound. Do the freaky and she’ll be better.”
He doesn’t deny they’re soulbound, just stares at me with a blank expression. I suspected it a while ago based on how he was acting. Especially when he put me in the wall. What I can’t figure out is why he’s still fighting his feelings. They’re meant to be together—mated despite time and dimensions. They’re bound in a way few understand and even fewer find. IfIhad a soulbound, I’d hold on to them as tightly as I could. I wouldn’t push them away. Except I’ve never been in his position, so maybe I would. I doubt I’ll ever have the chance to find out.
He scrubs his hands down his face and mumbles, “You did not just call it the freaky.”
“Oh ho, I did,” I laugh. “How you think she got spell sick?”
“She’s got a book.”
“A grimoire?” I wouldn’t be surprised. A lot of witches had them when the world was younger.
He shakes his head. “Not exactly. I’ve got an idea where it came from, but that shit is sentient. The fucking thing keeps fucking with reality.”
I think about pointing out he used fucking twice in one sentence, but I don’t think he’d appreciate it. Plus, I have no room to talk. “Yet it got you and her together.”
“Won’t mean shit if the book keeps showing her spells to make her sick.”
I roll my eyes. “Already told you how to help with that. Now, go get your girl.”
I push him around, then slap his ass before I shove him out the door. Staying in here while he talks about a sentient book isn’t wise. If it’s the same tome I’m thinking of, we’re in deeper shit than I thought. The thing is supposed to be under lock and key. Not floating around topside with an unsuspecting witch. And now I’m going to have to travel into the depths of Hell. I really don’t want to go down there. It’s dark and murky and smells.
