I sigh, wondering how far I should press this. “Why do you do that—push me away? Do you do it to everyone or am I just special?”
She clamps her lips together, her fingers stroking the egg absently. “Clearly, I don’t make friends well. Didn’t realize that was a fatal flaw.”
“You’re doing it again,” I murmur, and she huffs.
“Fine. You want me to open up? I have Percy. And my sister. My parents are dead and so is the aunt who raised us.”
I swallow hard. “I wasn’t asking—you know what? I’ll take it. What about your coven?”
Her face screws up and her gaze meets mine. “What coven? I didn’t grow up in one. Figured that was for, like,witches.”
“Covens are pretty universal. I mean, not all witches are in one, obviously, but it’s a common enough thing. You realize you’re an actual witch, right?”
She snorts, fixing her gaze on the egg once more. “There are definitely different types of witches. You’ve got your extreme witches who make it their entire identity. Then there’s the earthy witches and the dark witches and the?—”
“Okay, I get it. But covens are universal.”
“Then you’ve got the foolish witches. The ones who dive so deep into the lore, so far into their delusions, they’re no longer able to function. They forget about the world around them and all the responsibilities they have. Unless it’s to admonish those around them about the dangers of being a witch. How it would be better to cut that part out of themselves rather than suffer a fate worse than death.”
She’s so blasé I almost think she’s reciting something she read once. In actuality, I think this was her life. With her parents dead, I’m guessing her aunt was the one who suffered. And heaped that suffering onto her nieces with no thought of how it would impact them when she was gone.
She drops the egg in my lap and sighs.“I need a book. One that has darker magic in it. Like a scrying spell that can span dimensions.”
She’s still holding something back. It rests in the tightening of her eyes and the twitch of her lips. Shewantsto tell me more, but something holds her back.
“I don’t have spells.”
“Then how do you keep vanishing? Where do you go?”
I smile ruefully. “Oh, spitfire. I’m a demon. I walk through worlds.”
Idon’t know where to look. I didn’t mean to reveal allthatto him. He’s too observant, too easy to talk to, too personable. He’s the type to get others to open up without even trying, and I fucking hate it. Or at least, I hate feeling exposed. I refuse to meet his gaze, though it’s burning a hole in me. I’ve gotten enough pitying looks over the years. I don’t need another one.
Walking through worlds. He walks through worlds probably as easily as I walk to the mailbox. He possesses magic I could never dream of. Hell, most witches have stronger powers than I do. I can feel it, the magic, sluggishly moving through my veins. Accessing it is another challenge I don’t have time for. Envy bubbles within me at his abilities, and I shove it deep. It’s not his fault he can do a bazillion things I can’t. Doesn’t stop me from wondering all he’s seen—of wanting him to take me with him.
“Any particular worlds you want to visit?” Dimitri finally asks, breaking the silence. It’s as if he’s plucked the very thoughts from my brain and handed me the opportunity I’vecraved all my life. To visit other dimensions? To experience all the places a witch has never been? To live out a dream I’ve fantasized about since I was a child?
“I wouldn’t know anything about other dimensions. I barely know anything about demons, clearly.”
“No shame in that,” he says lightly as he gathers the dragon egg in his large grey hands.
“Sure. Um, don’t you have to take that back now? It’s getting cold.”
He nods as he gazes at it, pressing his lips together. “Want to go with me?”
My head snaps up and my chest tightens. It takes everything in me not to tackle him. Or scream. Or demand we leave right now. I try to keep my face passive and my voice nonchalant.
“If you need me to.”
He leans closer, forcing my eyes to his. “Oh, I definitely need you.”
He grabs my hand, and we’re plunged into darkness. A scream sticks in my throat, then dissolves as his arm loops around my waist. I press my face into his chest, focusing on his scent rather than the void of nothingness we’re hurtling through. Wind whips my hair around us, catching on something before whipping away again. It’s going to be a bitch to get the tangles out.
“You can open your eyes, spitfire,” he murmurs in my ear.
I lift my head hesitantly, blinking at the strange landscape he’s brought us to. Glittering specks interrupt the dark night sky overhead along with a small purple moon. Dimitri tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I realize I match the moon. Or sun. Whatever it is. Black, craggy mountains rise, blocking the horizon. The breadth of the place is incomprehensible to my witchy mind.
“Is this…”
