Page 34 of Shattered Illusion

“No, ya fucking biddy, that’s not why—” I get cut off as Olga gasps, clasping her withered hands to her chest.

“Alyssa?” Confusion colors my features until I look over my shoulder and find Bailey peeking out from where she’s hidden herself behind me. “I–I thought you were d–de–dead.”

Oh shit. “Olga.” I garner her attention before stepping aside, revealing Bailey completely. “I’d like to introduce you to Bailey. Alyssa and Reese’s daughter.”

Olga’s eyes widen, and her hand shakes as she lifts it to her lips, tears free-falling down her cheeks. I had completely forgotten that at one point in time, Olga knew the Foss family.

“But… how? They were all…” she trails off as she chokes on her words.

“It’s a long story, one I’ll tell you another time, but for now, we need your help.” That one word snaps the crone into action, practically shoving me aside as she takes the spot next to Bailey.

“What happened, child?” Bailey finally relinquishes her hold on her wrist, the bruises, puncture marks, and broken bone stark against her pale skin. Even with all the runes she holds, it’s plain as day how beat up she actually is.

Just the sight fuels my rage one more, but I tamp it down, knowing now isn’t the time to lose my shit. Again.

Bailey looks to me for guidance on if she can trust this woman, and I preen like a fucking peacock at the notion. That means she at least trustsme.

“Go ahead,cor meum.” The old crone sucks in breath at the pet name, but she otherwise ignores me, watching Bailey and waiting for a response.

As Bailey recants the story for the second time, I keep my eyes on Olga. Watching as she goes from a concerned grandmother facade to something that resembles a boiling mad bull. She huffs and grits her teeth, her face getting redder every second until it looks like she’s about to explode.

Finally, Bailey finishes with how she ended up in my office, and Olga sits back, her weathered hands fisted on her lap like she’s afraid if she doesn’t keep them there, she’ll cause her own destruction to match mine. She takes a deep breath before turning fully to Bailey with a tsk, shaking her head.

“May Karma—the nasty bitch—have a field day with that professor.” Olga huffs a breath. “I’m so sorry, child. You haven’t had the best introduction to our world. But that’s okay.” Shereaches out and pats Bailey’s non-injured hand. “We’ll get you right as rain and prevent this from happening again.”

“How?” The vulnerability in Bailey’s tone breaks my heart. She’s the biggest bad in our world, yet she sounds so small because she feels powerless.

“Easy.” Olga claps her hands again. “You have your own tool for healing yourself.” She taps a wrinkled finger in the center of Bailey’s chest where a plus sign sits between her breasts, barely noticeable behind her red tank top.

Bailey’s chin drops to her chest, eyeing the place Olga is tapping. “I was wondering if that’s what that was,” she murmurs quietly, most likely to herself. “But I can’t.” She sniffles. “I don’t even know how I made the portal to get here. The only other time I got my magic to work, I lit myself on fire and ran into a wall.”

“What?!” I yell, wide-eyed as I starecor meumdown. She didn’t tell me that. Fuck.

“Shush, vampire. The adults are talking,” the old lady snickers, earning a scowl in response. I’m a fucking adult, dammit. Hell, it may not look like it, but I’m even older than she is. While vampires are considered immortal, witches are not. They have extended lifespans, but eventually they age and pass on from this world.

Bailey giggles, a lighthearted sound that has me dismissing Olga’s comment. If it takes the old bat talking shit to makecor meumhappy; well then, she can talk shit all she wants.

“In all seriousness, though, Mr. Pennington, you need to go. You don’t need to be knowing any ‘mancer secrets.” But I’m already shaking my head before she even finishes.

“Over my dead body.”

“That could be arr—” I hold my hand up, stopping her.

“Cut the shit, Olga. I’m not leaving this room.”

“Fine. Fine.” She waves me away. “Sheesh. He’s a testy bloodsucker, isn't he?” she mutters to Bailey, making the scowl reappear on my face. I wholeheartedly regret calling her. “Now, child.” I grimace. She’s not a child, but compared to Olga, I guess she is. “I’m going to alleviate a little of the pain so you can focus better. And then we’ll get you healing yourself as much as you can, and I’ll finish the job. Does that work?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, sitting up a little straighter. But I don’t miss the skepticism in her tone. Even in that one word, it screamed loud and clear that she doesn’t believe Olga will be able to help.

A white glow emits from Olga’s aged hands as she closes the tiny distance between her and Bailey. With a soft touch, she drags a finger over the worst of the damage—her broken wrist—and almost immediately I notice a difference. And not just from the look of it. The ever-present pain etched on Bailey’s face lessens a degree and her shoulders slump as she lets out a relieved breath. The glow diminishes at that point, and Olga sits back with a satisfied smile on her wrinkled lips.

“Didn’t believe I could do it, didn’t ya, child?”

“It wasn’t th?—”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you were skeptical.” And she was. Very. Even I could smell the lie before she finished telling it.

“You’re right. I didn’t think you could. But in my defense, I’m still learning a lot about this world.” Her tone bleeds sincerity. But it’s plain as day what the little bit of healing has done forcor meum. Evident in the way she waved her injured wrist around as she was talking, instead of clutching it protectively.

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