Page 38 of Once Upon a Curse for True Love
His first instinct was to kiss her.To step forward, coffee be damned, and pick up where they’d left off the night before.The only thing stopping him was the fear that he’d already pushed too far too fast, that she’d hex his eyebrows to match his hair if he crossed that line without invitation.
Instead, he held out the opalescent drink.“Brought coffee.Thought it might distract you from hexing me again.”
Her lips—painted a subtle shade of pink that had no right being so captivating—curved into a smile.“Depends on the quality.”
“Only the best for you, Swan.”His eye twitched with the effort not to wink.
Something warm flickered across her face as she accepted the cup.“Thank you,detective.”
She was testing his control.Donatello ignored the fire she’d just lit at the base of his spine and gestured at the eyewear.“Are those prescription?Or just part of your academic disguise?”
“They’re my computer glasses,” she admitted, taking a sip of her latte.“I thought they’d help me look the part.”
If she was auditioning for “walking argument to make public decency laws optional,” then yes, she nailed it.
“They work,” he rasped, his voice steady despite the gymnastics his internal organs were performing.“Very professorial.You’ll blend right in.”
The drive to Salem University’s campus was short.Donatello still spent too much of it cataloging how she tucked her hair behind her ear when thinking, or how she traced the rim of her coffee cup with her index finger.
Things didn’t improve as they wound their way through the vast gothic campus.Despite the impending suspect interrogation, Donatello’s attention was hopelessly tethered to the woman beside him.Those lips and those glasses further twisted the chopstick she’d already metaphorically stabbed through his chest the previous night.
They were walking close enough that they bumped shoulders whenever they veered too near to each other.
More maddeningly, he couldn’t tell if she was buzzing as he was.Hex, it was going to be a long morning—week, month?Depending on how quickly they cracked the case.Thinking of the murder investigation sobered him up as they reached the building they were looking for.
Professor Esme Blackwood’s office was in the oldest wing of the campus, a stone structure with arched windows and creeping ivy.To cultivate that air of mystical academia?Inside, the hallways smelled of old books and something vaguely herbal—sage or vervain.Donatello flashed his badge at the department secretary, who pointed them toward a heavy oak door at the end of the corridor.
The professor was a woman in her early fifties with vibrant auburn hair pulled into a sensible bun, wearing a navy pantsuit that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a corporate boardroom.Whatever he’d imagined, her office wasn’t it.Bright and airy, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a distinct lack of skulls.
“Detective Malatesta,” she greeted him with a firm handshake after examining his credentials.“And…?”
“Andromeda Swan,” Andromeda supplied.“Technological consultant.”
Professor Blackwood gestured for them to sit.“How can I help?”
Donatello asked the scholar about her recent purchase of time-sand, and when the witch told them it was for an academic experiment she had not yet conducted and showed them the vial, still full, sigil intact, he decided to be more forthcoming.
“We’re investigating the murder of Magnus Thorn.”He watched her closely for any reaction.“Also known as Arcanet.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t know him under either name.”
“He died in unusual circumstances,” Donatello confirmed.“Involving a curse that shouldn’t be possible according to current magical theory.”
“Fascinating, from an academic perspective.But troubling, of course,” she added quickly.
“What’s more alarming,” Donatello continued, “is that lich blood was used in the spell that killed him.”
That got a reaction—Blackwood’s eyes widened, and she sat straighter in her chair.“That’s impossible.A lich hasn’t been seen in North America in four centuries.”
“The forensic evidence suggests otherwise,” Donatello countered.“The blood was fresh.”
Blackwood removed her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose.“That’s unthinkable.Creating a lich isn’t just illegal—it’s catastrophic.A perversion of the natural order.A being with the power of death magic, untethered from mortality’s constraints…”
“Do you know anyone with both the knowledge and inclination to attempt such a ritual?”Donatello asked.
The professor hesitated.“It would require access to forbidden texts, significant power, and a profound disregard for ethics.I’d say no…”
“Except?”Andromeda prompted.
