Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(31)

I’m surprised to hear an edge of vulnerability in her tone; she actually sounds like she cares about helping. I don’t, though. I’ve got to do what’s best for me, not some power structure I have no stake in. “No way. You’re nuts.”

“I’m practical. My father’s worked really hard to make the House stable again. I want to do what I can to help.”

With as much conviction as I can manage, I say, “I’m not going anywhere with you, Aelia.”

She purses her lips, sizing me up again. A couple of tense seconds tick by, and then she smirks. “Oh, you’re going. Either that or I tell my dad you had sex with Faelan last night and that’s why you’re acting cagey.”

My pulse skips. “What? That’s ridiculous.” I step back. “And who cares?” Even though for some crazy reason I do care if people think that. Which is stupid.

Her features shift suddenly, fear filling them as her hand rests delicately on her chest. “Daddy, I’m so mortified,” she says dramatically. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you, but I can’t lie anymore. That girl totally betrayed us. After we brought her here to protect her and comfort her—I caught her . . . feeding off your hunter. She nearly killed him! She would’ve if I hadn’t stopped her.” Her voice wavers, and a shiver runs through me. “What I saw her doing to him . . . the way she was wrapped around him. He was so helpless, so pale and close to death. And her anger . . . oh gods, Daddy, she got so angry she nearly burned the cottage down. I could’ve been killed.” She sniffs. “I didn’t want to tell you. I couldn’t believe the treachery, how she hurt Faelan was so—”

“Enough,” I finally say, my whole body turned to ice.

A satisfied grin slides across her face.

“Why are you pushing this? I could hurt someone out there. You know that.”

She waves away my caution. “Not as long as I’m with you. I can place a temporary protection spell around you that’ll last a few hours. You won’t attract a wink of trouble. Except maybe the fun kind.”

“This can’t be good for you if it goes shitways.”

“The sooner the general masses see you, the better.” She shrugs. “And if you make your debut with me, no one will mess with you—no one who counts, anyway.”

God, she’s so full of herself. But she might also have a point. I have no idea who to trust—I definitely don’t trust this bitch, with her willingness to blather to Marius that I’m some evil creeper who was trying to burn down his property and suck the life out of his employee.

Basically, I’m screwed either way. I may as well take the road I can at least try to have some control over. Once we’re out of this house, maybe I can get some space, get my head clear, even if it’s only for a minute.

“You’re sure this spell can keep me from doing anything horrible?” I ask.

“Of course. I wouldn’t let you melt any of my friends.”

If she can really do that with a spell, why didn’t Marius put something like that on me sooner? All I got was this necklace, and it’s apparently useless.

I reach up and touch the gold trinket, my finger brushing the orange stone in the center of the design. “What’s this thing for, then?”

“It’s a torque. Some demis wear them in one form or another.”

“Marius said it would help hold back the worst of my powers. It’s obviously not working.”

She seems to be confused by that idea too. “Weirdly, no. Not if the charred cottage is any indication.”

“Well, why? And how are you sure this spell will work if this torque thing won’t?”

“It uses a different kind of magic—every torque is spelled with blood magic by a druid from the House of Morrígan. But my spell would use gravity magic instead.”

“What’s that mean?”

She releases a long-suffering sigh. “Look, new girl, I’m a druid, I know what I’m doing, okay?”

A druid? This girl? I thought druids looked more like Gandalf than Chanel models.

“Maybe your torque is faulty or something,” she adds. “I can look at the spellwork later. I’m getting much better at reading blood magic. But,” she says, moving a little closer, whispering, “continuing to push back at me isn’t recommended.” Then she begins to sing quietly. “Faelan and Sage nesting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N—”

“Whatever!” I’m so done with this insanity.

She smiles her slinky smile again. “Such a smart new girl.” Then she takes my hand, leading me out the side door, into the evening air.



The spell she supposedly puts on me as we’re riding in the back of the Lincoln Town Car seems pretty lame. She does a little chanting—glowing again—and then tosses this dried green plant in my face. After all of that, she grabs my chin and looks in my eyes before declaring it done.

I’m fairly sure she’s bullshitting me. I just wish I knew why. Is she up to something underhanded, or is this really some misguided attempt to help her dad? I’m going to have to be more than a little careful. And on the off chance the spell is real, it’s still only going to help protect people from me for a few hours, so I’ll try to use every available second to get a break from the crazy.