The Vine Witch (Vine Witch #1)(72)

“I’m not sure your spell is working.” Elena trailed a finger over the dusty bottles and then blew the dirt off with a puff of breath. “My guess is you’ll be nothing but dust yourself soon.”

The witch kept her eyes closed and began the chant again, dabbing her finger in the bloodstain on her skirt.

“Your demon is dead, by the way.”

Gerda’s eyes opened, calculating truth or lie. “Impossible.”

“Apparently the cure to my curse left my blood poisonous,” she said, raising the candlestick to show off the bite wound on her collar. “But I’d be happy to donate a few drops to your cause.”

The witch managed a defeated laugh. “Your spiteful side is why I thought you might be one of us.” A pain hit her and she grimaced, sucking in a breath. When it passed, she swallowed hard as a faint blush returned to her cheeks. The wrinkles on her face smoothed out and her teeth reappeared, polished and white. She turned her hands over front to back, checking for age spots, pleased with the results.

A vague thud echoed at the far end of the corridor. Elena adjusted her stance to lean against the wall, shifting the candlestick to her other hand as a distraction. There was precious little time left. “Was it Bastien who had me cursed?” Even now she needed the certainty.

Gerda touched her face, delicately probing the tautness of her skin. “Have my cheekbones filled out?” Elena nodded, and the witch gave a half smile before letting it fall again, as if the weight of it was too heavy to hold in place. “He often wondered what happened to you. I believe . . . he was still in love with you.” It cost her to admit it, as if revealing the shadow of a vulnerable and childish heart that had once coveted love above all else. “Your absence carved a hole in him. That piece of him was still missing when we met. It’s what made it so easy to reel him in. I merely molded myself to fit the shape you left.”

The candle flame blurred as tears rimmed Elena’s eyes. “Why kill him like that? Why kill him at all?”

The bierhexe’s face hardened into a Medusa stare as she spit out her venom. “Because after you returned, he never looked at me again.”

The blood magic seemed to pump through Gerda’s veins quicker, encouraged by the heat of her temper. She suffered a last bout of pain, and then her youthful appearance was fully restored. She stretched her leg out straight, turning the bloody foot from side to side. “I thought it might grow back after the change, but it must require a different form of blood. A rabbit perhaps.” Gerda licked her lips and stood with surprising agility. “Never mind that. It’s all for the best anyway.”

“How’s that?”

“Now that you’ve ruined everything, I’m going to take great pleasure in making sure what remains of your life is nothing but misery. This foot shall be my evidence,” she said, limping toward Elena to make her threat face-to-face. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s the authorities I hear coming, and I can’t wait to show them what you did to me with your fiendish devil magic.”

On cue Inspector Nettles showed himself, stepping out of the narrow passageway, his face flushed from the chase. “Make one move and it will be your last,” he said, waving his torch at them. The flame glowed eerily blue, burning with a ferocious desire to leap at them.

Gerda crumpled, feigning weakness. “Oh, Inspector! Thank the All Knowing you’ve come. She forced me down here and nearly killed me.” She backed away from Elena and revealed the ghastly foot.

Elena dared to meet the inspector’s eyes, uncertain what he would do next. He made no move toward her, but perhaps uncertainty kept him rooted to his spot, despite his flamethrower. After all, what charm could he possibly possess that could deflect a demon’s sorcery?

“Reeking, foul magic it is,” he said, choosing wiles instead of amulets. “Can you walk to me? You’ve nothing to fear from her while I’m here.” He held out a hand to Gerda as if she dangled off a high ledge.

She went to him, limping and sniffling. He cooed at her with comforting words, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders as he escorted her safely out of the storage room.

Elena waited, wondering if she should have fled with Sidra after all. If she’d miscalculated, misjudged . . . and then he beckoned her forward with a stern look and a tilt of his head. She inhaled the scent of the old wine one last time and walked out of the room.

The snap of handcuffs followed.

Matron had been waiting in the hallway. She clapped a restraint on Gerda’s right wrist the moment the bierhexe got caught between her and the inspector. The left wrist evaded her, however.

“What is this?” Gerda yanked and twisted, trying to get free. She screamed like a fox with its foot caught in a trap. “What are you doing, you fools? She’s the murderer. Arrest her. I am Madame Du Monde. You’re making a terrible mistake.” She hissed and tried to sink her teeth into Matron’s arm. The inspector pinned her against the wall with his body and finished handcuffing her other wrist. The blue light of the runes glowed to life, sapping the witch’s magic. Both Matron and the inspector exhaled in relief.

“How much did you hear?” Elena asked once they had their prisoner under control.

The inspector held up his seashell listening charm. “I caught the confession. Your man upstairs showed us the demon and the summoning circle. Hell of a mess this whole thing, but you ought to be granted bail while it gets sorted out in court.” She thanked him, and he gave her a grudging nod, adding, “We’ll discuss the disappearance of your cohorts later.”