Page 99 of An Oath at Midnight

“I don’t know.” The design I’d carved into my hand had welted, now puffy like badly healed scar tissue. “They were attacking you, and a spell…it just…it came to me. It flowed through me and forced them back.”

“It just came to you?”

“Yes.” I didn’t want to think about what that meant. Not yet.

I quickly checked the photo I’d taken on my phone, worried that somehow the crones had wiped it clean or somehow messed with it, but thankfully, it was still there.

“That ever happen before?” he asked as he pulled a small jar of healing balm from his pocket and smeared it across my palm.

“Kind of.” I quickly scanned the spell.

“Should we be worried about that?”

I didn’t look up. I didn’t want him to see the worry in my own eyes.

“Magnolia? Should we be worried about it?”

I forced myself to look at him. “Honestly? I don’t know. There’s no one I can ask.” I looked back down at the spell, not wanting to talk about it anymore. I’d worry about that later, after I’d found the killer. “So this isn’t just a spell…there’s a potion as well. These ingredients, some of them I’ve never used before.”

“You don’t need to worry about it yet, though, right?” Bram said, letting me change the subject.

“Right.” But something told me it was only a matter of when, not if I was going to need it. That was why I’d come here today, that feeling was too strong to ignore. Yes, I’d try to pass this task without it, but this spell, it might be the only way to save my coven.

Bram tugged on my shirt again. “Ready?”

I nodded, and he lifted me into his arms. His blood instantly soaked through my shirt, and I felt enraged all over again. “I need to look after your wounds.”

“They’re superficial,” he said as we lifted off.

Bram flew fast, and I could hear his heart pounding hard against me. I held on to him, even though I felt impossibly raw right then.

As the minutes ticked by, my scars began to tingle, itch, they started to burn hot, painful.

Not now. I wanted to fucking scream in frustration.

The urge to pull away, to escape Bram’s touch, hit me hard, but that was impossible while we were in the air. My anger rose because I fucking hated that right then, being in Bram’s arms was close to actual torture.

Goddess, it hurt. So bad.

When we finally landed, I was breathing heavily, ready to scratch my own skin off.

“Mags?” Bram asked when I pulled away, stumbling back.

“My scars,” I said, fighting back all I was feeling. I didn’t want him to see the truth of just how bad it’d gotten. I didn’t want him to see that his touch had hurt me because that would hurt him, and I couldn’t bear it.

He stepped forward, reaching for me, and I stepped back, cringing away from him.

Bram froze, his dark eyes missing none of it. “You’re in pain.”

“I’ll be okay.”

He lifted his hands. “I’m not gonna touch you, I promise.”

“I’ll be okay in a minute. Just give me a minute.” I motioned to the bedroom door. “Let me look after you, please. That’s what I need right now. Let me take care of your wounds.”

He watched me closely, then nodded and did as I asked, walking into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed for me, like we’d done so many times before. I rushed to the bathroom on shaky legs and grabbed my basket.

Bram’s gaze didn’t leave me as I took out my mortar and pestle and several bags of herbs, dropping a small spoon of each into the stone bowl. “We need to cleanse as well as heal. I don’t know what those twisted bitches did to you, but they were able to cut you, and I don’t want their evil anywhere on you.” I added some lavender oil and worked it and the herbs into a paste, followed by a scoop of healing balm. I mixed it all together, then, holding my hand over the potion, I let my magic pulse through me and into it, whispering a spell to increase its power.