Page 6 of Immortal Sins
A fresh, fruity scent tickles my nose. Accustomed or not to Fae glamors, Flynn’s proximity leaves me lightheaded. While shadows flock to Cole to create mesmerizing patterns on his skin, Flynn’s catches all the light in the room. The sunrise plays with the sinews of his muscles, and I catch myself staring at his ass. If I burned the back of his trousers while he cast a spell, would he feel it?
I bite back a snort at the mental image of Flynn walking around all day with his ass hanging out and force my attention back to Deveraux’s instructions.
After class ends, I hang back, waiting for everyone to clear out so I can talk to the professor. The stormy aura of power around her almost drains the courage out of me, but I shove down the urge to flee.
She raises a hand in front of her when I approach the desk, not looking up from her grimoire. “Take it as a compliment. I trust you can handle a Fae, unlike many of your peers.”
I unclasp my bag. “I came to talk about angel dust.”
Her purple eyes snap up to meet mine.
“Miss Eillis managed to brew an antidote.” Fingers cramped around the small bottle, I drag it out of the bag.
“She trusted you with this.” It’s not a question, but a fact. The glitch of thunder in her stance eases as she walks around the corner of her desk. “Beth mentioned that she was mentoring you, but I had no idea…”
I hand her the precious liquid. “Right before she died, she told me not to tell anyone about it, but I thought you should know.” Trust doesn’t come to me in spades, especially not these days, but my gut tells me Deveraux is worthy of it. “Is there a way to know how she made it? Can we replicate it?”
She raises the spell to the light and squints. “Maybe.”
Bottom lip tucked between my teeth, I hesitate. “Beth said you were immune to angel dust.”
Deveraux frowns, and I feel as though I’m posing—or being measured—for a dress. She slides a small key out of the bun at the nape of her neck and uses it to unlock a big chest at the front of the class. “I worked on a possible cure to angel dust day and night, and I couldn’t get close to an antidote, but I did manage to cook something of importance.”
Star-shaped red cookies with sprinkles sit prettily in a transparent Tupperware container. “This is a barrier spell. It won’t dispel the effects of the angel dust already in your system, if any, but it will protect you from further harm. However, it will also block out any other spell from affecting you, so no basic dry spell, no stamina potion—anything that affects your body—will work while the barrier remains active. Its effects last about a day.”
Eyes wide, I grasp the mundane container.
“Beth trusted you with her most treasured success, so you should take a batch,” she adds with warmth.
“Thank you.” If Deveraux somehow fell under Oz’s power…magically or not… I shiver at the thought. The dessert looks innocuous enough. Usually, spells lose their powers and properties when they aren’t properly bottled. “How did you manage to make them look so…normal?”
“I’m not the Spells and Sorcery teacher for nothing.” She gives me a tentative, rare smile. “One more thing before you go. Headmaster Osbourne asked me about this.” She reaches underneath her desk and retrieves a squared clay pot and…
My breath catches as I recognize my Fae seedling. The sight of the dry, saggy brown flower quickens my pulse. Withered. Dead. Useless.
After they confiscated it from my room, I tried, and failed, to track it down. If the flower was still intact, I could use it to track the horn. The bottom part of the plant looks about to sigh its last breath, and I swallow hard.
“Oz couldn’t figure out what it was, but I did. You’re a talented witch, Julia, but fire burns, too. Casting an upside-down spell in this realm is dangerous.”
The admonishment isn’t as abrasive as I expected it to be.
“I wanted to catch the angel fruit thief,” I admit with a defeated sigh.
Deveraux hands me the clay pot. “You could still try once it’s healthy enough to bloom again. Feed it your blood twice a day, and ask Mrs. Pembrooke about Beth’s personal collection. Tell her you have my permission. With the right cues, you won’t end up in the infirmary.”
“Thank you.” I hold the seedling close to my chest. Deveraux is the only person who seems to grasp exactly how much trouble we are in. How much Beth’s deathsucks. “Can I ask you one more question?”
She tilts her head to the side. “Yes?”
“Why would someone risk everything to possess a unicorn horn?”
Deveraux presses a trembling hand over her breast. “Why are you askingme?”
“You know everything.”
The intense, eerie vibe recedes. “Not everything.” Deveraux spins around and discreetly wipes the corner of her eye. “I didn’t know enough to save her.”
A tight squeeze crushes my heart. On that front, Deveraux and I are kindred spirits.
