This Wicked Fate (This Poison Heart #2)(5)

Circe slipped off her jacket and tossed it on the floor. She rummaged through the rubble and seemed to find what she was looking for—one of the small copper dishes Dr. Grant’s father had asked me to provide for him when he stopped by.

Nyx and Marie hung back as I watched Circe move with the kind of assuredness that told me she knew exactly what she was doing. Her long slender fingers worked to turn the dried parts of the belladonna out into the dish. She covered the pieces with her hand and closed her eyes. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. I wasn’t the one handling the poison, but I knew what that felt like. She didn’t grimace or wince. She breathed in and out slowly, rhythmically.

“Do you think you are immune?” Circe asked suddenly.

“What?” I replied, confused.

“The first poisonous plant I ever came in contact with was belladonna. My mama gave it to me in an old coffee can when I was little. She made me swear to never let any of my friends touch it. I’m sorry to say I was not the most obedient child.” Her eyes became glassy in the dark of the broken apothecary. “I could grow the plant, and there was a connection there that I didn’t fully understand. I thought it was just another facet of my gift—control plants and be unaffected by the poisonous ones.”

“They don’t affect me at all,” I said. “I’m definitely immune.”

Circe smiled warmly, but there was sadness there. “It looks that way on the surface, but you feel the cold, don’t you? You feel the tingle to varying degrees when you come in contact with something toxic.”

I nodded.

“If you were immune it wouldn’t have any effect on you at all, right? You’d feel nothing.”

I hadn’t thought of it like that at all, but I guess she was right. “So what are you saying? Because I’ve had the sap of a hemlock plant go directly into my bloodstream. I held the Heart with my bare hands and I felt like I was dying.” Sharp flare of pain and sadness in the pit of my belly.

Circe pressed her palm flat against the belladonna. “When you come in contact with the poisonous plants, your body leaches the poison. You take it into yourself, in essence becoming so much like the plant itself that you cannot be harmed by it. The more poisonous the plant, the more painful it is. Medea was the most talented poisonist in existence for two reasons—she studied under her aunt Circe, arguably the most gifted sorceress ever, and secondly, because she inherited the same gifts we now possess from Hecate. It’s what allowed Medea to do her work with such precision. It’s why people sought her out.” Circe exhaled sharply as she pulled her hand back and wriggled her fingers. “I’ve drawn out enough of the poison in the belladonna so that it won’t be fatal, but the sleep will be as close to death as you can safely get without going to meet Hades himself.”

Persephone returned with a kettle and four mugs on a silver tray. She set it on the counter, and Circe dropped a few pinches of the belladonna into each cup, then covered it with steaming water. I reached for it, but Mo caught my wrist.

“Wait,” she said. “I’m not tryna be rude, but we don’t know you.” She eyed Circe carefully. “I mean, we just met. Now you want to give us some kind of potion that’s going to knock us out? This is … a lot, especially for Bri.” She turned to me. “Love, you’re in charge of what’s happening here. We don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. Nothing has changed about that.”

For a split second my thoughts wandered to what Mom was gonna say and the realization that she wasn’t there fell on me all over again. Mo gathered me to her and swayed with me in her arms as the tears came in a rush.

Circe batted at her eyes again and reached out to put her hand on Mo’s arm. “Maybe you and I could talk?”

Mo gripped me tight. “Sure. But anything you need to say can be done right here in front of Bri.” She gently touched the side of my face. “You good with that, love?”

I nodded.

Circe chewed at her bottom lip, then took off her glasses and set them on the counter. “I don’t know what to say to either of you. I truly didn’t believe I’d see Briseis ever again. Selene never intended for her to come back here. She tried very hard to spare her all of this.”

“It wasn’t like Bri chose it,” Mo said. “That woman, Redmond, she’s the reason we’re here. Bri didn’t even want to come up at first, but—” Mo stopped for a moment. She cleared her throat and continued. “But it’s been good for her up till now. She’s been more herself, her true self, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her. Clearly you know what she can do, and we—me and … and Thandie—we did everything we could to let her be exactly who she is. Gifts and all. We got a flower shop back home.”

Circe’s eyes brimmed with tears. Persephone turned away from us and busied herself gathering up jars from the floor and setting them back on a few of the unbroken shelves. Nyx just stared down at the floor. It was clear they didn’t want to intrude on what felt like a very private conversation. Marie, however, didn’t even try to pretend like she wasn’t listening.

“I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable,” Circe said, her voice tight. “I meant what I said. The house is yours if you want it. The issue of me being back from the dead might be a roadblock so maybe we just pretend I’m still dead.”