Page 106 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
“It will be painful,” Jasmine finally said. “But I think we can remove it.”
Think?Bristol had expected more certainty from the most experienced sorceress in Danu.
“The question is,” she continued, “are you certain you want it removed?” She circled back in front of Bristol and took one of Bristol’s hands in her own, examining the pointed blue moons again. She kept coming back to them, like they interested her more than the enormous tick on her back.
“Of course I want it removed.”
“Hear me out,” Jasmine said, still studying Bristol’s hand. “This is unexpected. This trait is passed down through both parents, which means your father, while mortal, did have some trace of fae in him. We never knew this. It probably never would have manifested itself at all except that your mother was fae.”
A vestige. She remembered Tyghan telling her that many mortals had traces of fae in them from somewhere way back in their lineage. It usually amounted to nothing. “What does it mean?”
“That’s the problem. We don’t know. By itself, probably nothing, but combined with your mother’s fae heritage, we can’t be certain. We do think it is likely that you are bloodmarked, but removing the tick will carry a small risk of death. You should also know, if we successfully extract it, and the magic in you is fully restored, there will certainly be more changes. Possibly profound ones.”
Bristol swallowed. She didn’t like the grim tone of Jasmine’s voice. “What kind of changes?”
Jasmine shook her head gravely. “We don’t know yet.”
Bristol remembered the horror of toddling into the bathroom, her father trying to soothe her.It’s only a costume, darling. Mama’s playing dress-up. She’ll take it off.
Only a costume.
But what if it wasn’t?
She tried to remain calm as Jasmine studied her fingernails. Maybe she could become something even worse. Was that what Jasmine was trying to tell her? “And what happens if I don’t remove it? If I let the tick stay there?”
“Ticks don’t heal. Its torn leg will continue to bleed into you, but in very small amounts, enough for a few of your innate abilities to surface over the course of time. You may have seen this already?”
Bristol’s mind tripped over the past few days. “I’m able to do a few spells now that I couldn’t do before.”
Jasmine went on to explain that even before the tick was injured, it probably released some magic into her from time to time in the interest of self-preservation, like when she was maneuvering on her bike in Bowskeep or even in the maze during the battle—just enough to ensure her survival—because if its host died, so would the tick.
A host. A sour taste swelled in her mouth.She was a host.An unwilling one. A host for a repulsive creature that used her for its own existence. But removing it meant she might become a hideous creature herself.
Bristol stood, her breaths coming fast now. She gathered her shirt, her jacket, rushing to put them on. “I have to think this over. I need time. I—”
“Of course,” Jasmine said. “A decision like this needs consideration. While you think it over, the Sisters and I will continue to research the matter.”
“But keep in mind,” Izzy added, “with the Choosing Ceremony so close, Danu is running out of time.”
CHAPTER 72
Ihave news.”
“Daddy?” Harper asked eagerly. “Did you find Daddy?”
Bristol shook her head. “Not yet. I’m sorry. This is a big world. It’s harder to search than I thought it would be—even for the fae who live here. But they’re helping me.”
Harper peered closer. “The room you’re in is so dark. Are you still underneath that table?”
Bristol nodded. Cat and Harper leaned against the washing machine, staring into the portal. Bristol had called to them, and they stumbled into the laundry room, still in their pajamas.
“When are you coming home? That’s the only news I want to hear,” Cat said, with the same insistence as in their last conversation.
Bristol knew she was pushing Cat’s patience, but at least with the sale of their father’s painting and the advances on the Leonardo da Vinci sketches, money wasn’t a pressing problem anymore. Financially, they could manage without her, but it wasn’t only money they needed. They neededher.
Bristol eyed Cat, trying to decide how to deflect the question. Cat’s face still glowed with the same demanding edge, but Bristol noticed the momentary dimpling of her chin, like she was trying to hold back. Bristol quickly changed the subject. “So how much did you get for Daddy’s painting?”
“Millions,” Harper answered.
