Page 94 of Malice
“Then I will help you.”
Uh, what?
“I appreciate the offer, but the rotation is pretty full right now.”
His cheeks went pink, and he spluttered on his tea. “No, no. Not like that. I can make you a potion to aid in fertility. My mother taught it to me. She was a powerful witch and served as our village’s midwife until her death.”
I tamped down the bloom of hope that had sprung at his words. “And this potion, it works on, um, not human people?”
“Why would I offer otherwise?” he asked, looking adorably confused.
I really appreciated that he took me at face value instead of slapping back with something condescending or mansplainy. Christian was a rare gem.
“Any side effects?”
“I would prepare for an increase in libido. But... I would not say that’s typically a problem most complain about.”
Now it was my turn to blush. “Right. Probably not.”
I sipped my tea and let the floral flavor blossom on my tongue. Help wouldn’t be a bad thing. Especially not with Lucifer so eager to find a way to beat the horsemen to the punch. Not even my mind was a safe place for me right now. It wouldn’t be until I was pregnant, and if I was going to have a baby with anyone, it would be one of the four of them. Not the king of hell.
“Can I get back to you on your offer?”
“But of course. It will take me a few hours to gather the ingredients and prepare the potion. I could have it available to you by this evening, if you so choose.”
“Good to know. Thanks, Christian.”
“Happy to help. It is what I’m here for, and I do love feeling useful. It’s so rare the château has guests.”
“It must be lonely out here all by yourself.” I was familiar with isolation, but at least I’d had Auntie Lilith to talk to every day.
He shrugged. “I get by.”
Now this was the tea I was interested in. “Does that mean there’s a Mrs. or Mr. Christian somewhere?”
He smirked. “Not at the moment. I’m a fairly solita?—”
A soft chime preceded a soft violet light in the far corner of the room.
“Mon Dieu!” Christian jumped to his feet, tea splashing out of his cup as he hastily set it down.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s an emergency alert.”
“Like a bomb siren?”
He froze and glanced back at me. “Your mind is a very strange thing.”
“You said it was an emergency.”
Rushing to the spot where the light originated from, he snatched up an old leather-bound book and opened it. The light was so much brighter now, beaming up to the ceiling. A disembodied voice filled the room, unfortunately all in rapid-fire French, which I did not understand. Magic was pretty damn cool, and now that the grid was down, extremely useful.
When he closed the book, his face was pale and drawn.
“What was that?” I whispered.
“The Great Barrier Reef has died all at once. It has washed ashore along with the bones of thousands of sharks and other sea life. The ocean is nothing more than acid, eating through the hulls of ships and killing everything it touches.”
