Page 334

I didn't know if he was trying to warn me with that look, but there was something threatening about it.

Had he already forgotten the blood oath? Or was he just blocking it out? What had this man been through to make him so distrustful?

As the dissatisfaction and pain in my chest – about not being able to simply lay my cards on the table and talk openly with him about everything – threatened to suffocate me, I tried to focus again on the only thing I could talk to him about: research.

“Can this Umbra curse be broken?”

My voice sounded fragile, as if I were about to become the old Julie again.

“This ritual cannot be reversed if you are already an inheritor of this curse and not the original cursed one.”

“Great,” I muttered.

Quentin gave me a sideways glance that I would have loved to interpret. However, I remained fixated on the strands of hair that fell across his forehead.

“Besides, it wouldn't be wise to get rid of this kind of power,” he continued.

He still didn't understand that my powers weren’t safe. How far would it have to go? To the point where I seriously injured him?

“Have you already forgotten what I did last time?”

“Your powers make you special,” he laughed dryly before turning back to me. “Believe me, in the eyes of the people I work with, you would be a weapon.”

Curiosity spread through me.

Who did he work with?

“Destruction is only one side,” he eventually said. “And it’s conveniently the side you need to take on Gloria Westcode.”

“What do you know about her?” Suspicion filled my voice. “Why do you want to take her on in the first place?” I stepped closer. “And who are these people you work with? The DUIO?”

Quentin spun completely around to face me, startling me so much that I bumped back against one of the tables.

“You're still asking too many questions, Julie Blair.”

I stared at him, frustrated that it was my fault he was treating me this way. But instead of stopping, I continued, trying to stick to science.

“Will my...” I resisted the urge to touch my belly. “Will the child be affected by this curse?”

The mere thought of the baby growing up with such a burden nearly consumed me. The only thing that gave me hope that it would have a better life than I did was the fact that it would not become an Air Quatura.

“The probability is high because it obviously didn't skip the last generation. Either your father was the first to have this curse, or Gloria Westcode is not the carrier, but your father's father.”

I realized that since learning about my paternal ancestry, I hadn't given much thought to my grandfather until Amara had asked me to come to her office some weeks ago and given me the few bits of information she had about him.

Sylvan Seagrave. Another clue to my origins that led nowhere.

In Moenia, the sisterhood talked about all the male Quatura who had lived in recent decades. We knew them by name, as their numbers had decreased.

So, who was this man who had taken Gloria Westcode as his wife? Where was he now? Had his life, like his death, been hushed up, just like Alaister's, because of the Umbra curse that seemed to rest within us?

Quentin now turned completely toward me.

“You come from a pretty powerful line, Blair Witch.”

The hint of a rare smile pulled up the right corner of his mouth, and I couldn't help but lose myself in his dimple.

“Two, in fact.”