Page 34

Chapter 34

I focused on the memories I wanted to be revealed. Memories of my father. Jeb painted thick cold runes on my forehead. The moment the revelation potion touched my head, flashes started to come to me.

My father was cuddling me. ‘It’s okay,’ he murmured, kissing my elbow. ‘There, all better now.’

Tears formed behind my eyelids and my heart stuttered. He didn’t seem evil.

‘ Shaun!’ my mother laughed, as he tickled her. ‘Stop it! The potion needs the ara root adding now!’

My father fixed his green eyes on me. ‘Well then … I need a new victim.’ I squealed with laughter as I ran away.

I had his eyes; my hair was red to his blond but our eyes were the same, right down to their shape. When I looked in the mirror, he’d be staring back at me .

As Jeb filled in the triangles on my forehead, the memories came thicker and faster, more vivid than any I’d ever had before. Family picnics, outings to the park, a trip to the aquarium. Reading with him under a blanket fort by torchlight, studying the stars with a telescope, going swimming in a pool with waves and slides.

His name was Shaun Bolton and he was a great father. I had absolutely zero doubt that he’d loved me with all of his heart until Mum had kicked him out. I knew she’d had her reasons, but six-year-old me hadn’t known them.

Ripping away the memories of my father had helped me deal with his supposed abandonment and I’d stopped caring that he’d gone. But Mum hadn’t just taken a few memories away from me; she’d erased the whole relationship. Whatever my dad had done, it was hard to accept that her choice had been the right one.

Pain overwhelmed me, physical and emotional.

I opened my eyes. ‘Stop,’ I pleaded, but my plea was superfluous. Jeb was already cleaning the runes from my forehead. He studied me with open concern. I had just enough presence of mind to check him over too. Magic like this took its toll, but Jeb looked fine.

I relaxed, and let the pain take me. My vision tunnelled as I passed out.

Something cool touched my skin and I groaned in appreciation. My head was pounding; someone was banging a drum inside the confines of my skull. I opened my eyes and immediately regretted it as agonising pain lanced through me. I scrunched them shut. A low moan escaped my lips, not the good kind.

‘I’m sorry, Bambi,’ Bastion whispered. ‘I know you’re hurting. We have the Seer’s meeting in twenty minutes.’ He paused. ‘I’ll cancel it.’

‘No!’ I said forcefully, wincing at the sound of my voice. ‘No,’ I repeated, this time in a whisper. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘You won’t be,’ he said firmly. ‘I know you’re in pain.’ He paused. ‘I’m your familiar. I can send you energy like I did after the incident with Becky. Can I help with this? Will you let me take your pain? I tried while you were out, but I barely managed to touch the surface.’

I licked my parched lips, keeping my eyes closed as I debated. He could, but did I want him to? Of the two of us, I knew who I’d rather be incapacitated. ‘ I get migraines occasionally – I have some migraine medication in my bedside drawer. The meds might make me a bit woozy but they’ll help. Get me paracetamol and ibuprofen, too.’

I still had my eyes tightly closed but I could hear the frown in his voice as he said, ‘Should you take those together?’

‘I’m a healer witch,’ I sassed. ‘I know about potion and drug interactions. That combination is fine. Give them to me. Now. Please.’ I managed not to whimper the last word.

I heard him rooting around in the bedside drawer and deduced I was lying on my bed. Call me Sherlock Holmes. A moment later he pressed a cup to my lips. I took a sip of the water and held out my hand for pills. He passed me a few of them and I knocked them back. ‘Can you carry me to the car?’ I suggested. ‘I’ll be fine after these meds kick in.’

He didn’t answer but his hands slid under my skirt and he cradled me gently to his chest. I’m not a skinny rake of a woman – I have meat on my bones – so it felt both surprising and thrilling to realise that he could carry me so effortlessly.

We descended the stairs and I felt the air around me cool as we entered the underground car park. Oscar was behind the wheel of the car. Bastion buckled me in but then wrapped his arms around me. I winced when the engine caught.

I dozed lightly as we drove; the pain was less intrusive when my eyes eventually peeled open, but it was still there. Goddess, it was really there. Bastion looked concerned. ‘Oscar says I can help, so I’m going to help.’ His tone brooked no argument. He wasn’t asking for permission.

I nodded. ‘A little, yes. Don’t take it all. Better that both of us deal with a bit of a headache rather than having one of us totally incapacitated.’

I felt his relief and realised that he’d been expecting a fight. My head was pounding, even with all of the medicine coursing through my veins, and I was all out of arguments. I just wanted it not to hurt. I have many good attributes, but fortitude in the face of overwhelming pain isn’t one of them. I let out a whimper that I couldn’t stop.

Bastion drew a breath and I felt him tug on the bond between us. It felt weird, like skin being tugged under local anaesthetic. The pain started to fade.

‘Enough.’ I pulled back, physically and metaphorically. ‘That’s enough. I’m okay now, I can cope with this.’ I could; I’d completed potions with full-blown focal migraines, blinking away shimmering lights and battling holes in my vision. This had been far worse than any migraine I’d experienced, but now it was down to pre-migraine pain levels I could, and would, cope.

I reached for the bond between us and felt that Bastion was in more pain than I was. He’d taken the lion’s share of the agony. I hated that and loved him for it in equal measure. Crud. I liked him for it – it was kind . That was all.

‘Thanks,’ I murmured, even though it was still hard for me to acknowledge. ‘You took too much, but thanks.’

I felt him shift aside the pain as if he could just ignore it. I had no doubt he’d had a lifetime of ignoring debilitating wounds; this was just a headache to him, a bad one but hardly life-threatening. With the pain split between the two of us, it was far more manageable than the agony I’d had to contend with alone. There was real truth in the saying that a burden shared was a burden halved.

He kissed my lips gently. ‘Let’s go, Bambi. We have a High Priestess to meet and a black auction to get to.’

Ugh. Don’t remind me.