Page 57 of The Demon's Discovery
“It’s not your fault, nephew. She had her reasons.” Ophelia leaned in, patting Magnus’s hand. The relief in his eyes was palpable. I gave him a hard time at every opportunity, but I could tell he didn’t hear that very often and carried much he wasn’t responsible for. Ophelia turned back toward Greta. “What are your talents, girl?”
“I practice chemistry.”
I squeezed her fingers. “She’s being far too modest. She excels not only in chemistry, but also in alchemy,” I corrected, pulling a small vial out of my inner vest pocket.
Ophelia reached her hand out for it, eyes squinted in disbelief as she read my tidy script on the label.
“Elixir of Healing?” Ophelia paused, head tilted to the side as she uncorked it and sniffed. “You made this?” she asked Greta.
“Yes, with his help.”
“And where did you get a recipe for such a thing?”
“Lilith’s grimoire,” I offered.
Ophelia’s eyes widened in surprise. “Indeed? That’s quite a claim, demon.” She squinted at us. “Whose blood went into the mixture?”
“Hers,” I assured her.
“May I see it? The book?”
I’d only just gotten my hands back on the book and was apprehensive about it traveling beyond the walls of the collegium. “I left it at d’Arcan, but you’re welcome to?—”
“Go get it.”
“Sorry?” I was stunned by her immediate and unwavering demand but knew better than to reject the request outright.
Magnus shifted uncomfortably, watching the conversation. Our eyes met, and he raised one eyebrow.
“Go. Get. It.” Her tone was sharp and brooked no argument. “Bring me the book. I need to see it.”
Torn, I looked from Greta to Magnus. He gave a slight nod.
Ophelia burst into laughter, and that was slightly more terrifying than her stern tone. My heart thudded, unsure if this mood change was dangerous or if she was genuinely mirthful.
“As if I’d hurt my”—she glanced skyward, a thoughtful finger on her chin—“several-times great-niece. She’s safe with me, and she needs my help. Go get your little book, demon, or I’ll be forced to revoke all hospitality where you’re concerned.” She laughed again, seeing me fighting with my darker urges. The ice in her voice forced every demon feature to the surface with no effort at all. “That mist you have is fascinating. I’d love to have a closer look one day. Now, are we to be friends, or not? Your fangs don’t scare me, little prince.”
I breathed deeply and forced a smile, trying not to allow her words to be too hard of a blow to my ego. “Of course.” I mentally calculated how quickly I could get there and back by flight, deciding that the span of minutes I’d be gone were reasonable, especially with Magnus here.
Greta was much calmer than I felt. “It’s alright. She’s not going to hurt me.” She even smiled. I tried to reassure myself with her demeanor that she wasn’t worried about being here alone with the sorceress.
“Certainly not,” Ophelia muttered, getting to her feet and heading toward the door. She opened it, clearly inviting me to leave.
I cupped Greta’s cheek with my palm and stole a quick kiss. Magnus grunted, but his delicate sensibilities were not my concern. He’d heard Ophelia as clearly as I had when she confirmed Greta was my mate. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
“We’ll be fine,” she repeated.
With a nod, I got up, my feet leaden as I strode toward the little sorceress.
“Hurry back, demon,” she said. “I’ve got bread in the oven. I expect you can return in time to eat some warm.”
I tipped my head politely but offered no response, my wings out and spread wide the moment I was clear of her doorway.
Human sightings be damned,I flew the most direct route I could take across the city back to the collegium. I’d broken out in a cold sweat somewhere along the way, and drops trickled down my spine as I rushed through the hallway toward my classroom.
Hurried footsteps chased me, but I didn’t pause. “Mr. Feland? Is everything alright?” Grace’s panicked voice echoed along the stones of the hall.
“Fine, Grace. I just need to get something.”
