Page 30 of Potion of Deception (Potion of Deception #1)

“More likely,” he finally said, his tone unsure or he might have tried to hide his dissatisfaction. Another riddle definitely wasn't something they both wanted to see, however it couldn't be even called this way: it was just a set of words, resembling a warning or possibly advice.

Violette turned her attention back to the words on the wooden surface.

“I don't understand,” she murmured.

“I think that is the point,” he said coldly.

The words written by the witch didn't surprise him.

Violette couldn't unravel if he was tired, didn't care or it was something he exactly expected.

He told her already that the woman who cursed him was cunning and mischievous, capable of vileness and tricks.

The raindrop dripped before Violette's eyes right onto the beige surface. Another cold raindrop fell right between her eyes, making her squint and scrunching her nose.

Violette already got used to the weather in the Valley of Enchanted Stories for that short time she'd spent here. It varied from rain and fog to snow and frost. Today was an unlucky day for them as the clouded sky brought with it rain.

In a few minutes the drizzle altered into a torrential downpour, making Violette's boots get bogged down in the mud along an eroding path.

For their fortune on their way they found a small summerhouse.

It was a tiny building with columns but the big conical roof was spacious enough to shelter the two of them from the deluge.

It didn't really help with the cold though – Violette stood there soaked to the skin, shaking like the leaves on the wind.

Dante was no less wet; his shirt stuck to the body and hair dribbled with water as he ran his hand through it.

The unceasing rain tugged at the fragile windows, a flimsy door was creaking with every lash of the wind.

The room was empty, probably intended for travelers like them. With shivering hands, Violette pulled out the magic wand and with a light movement their clothes and hair got dry again.

“That's much better,” she murmured. The gentle steam from the clothes embraced her in its arms, warm and comforting, and for a brief moment, it was the nicest feeling she’d had all day.

“The rain seems to last for a long time,” Dante stated, standing near the long window, his sight directed into the distance.

Violette looked over his shoulder, following with a sigh. She placed the box on the floor, sat nearby tucking her legs under herself and leaned with her head on the wall. They were stuck here not less than a few hours, it was hardly pleasant thought. Not for her, neither for him.

Dante’s gaze dropped to her. “If I leave you for a few minutes you won't run into trouble, will you?”

She glowered at him. “I'm stuck in a little cabin and it's raining outside. What can I do?”

“You're too nosy, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd find an adventure here.”

She wanted to grimace but instead she dramatically put her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. “Don't even know how I will live these few languid moments without your wonderful company.” And then she dropped seriously, “Where are you going?”

“Want to see if there is someplace more pleasant to stay nearby.”

He turned to go but then bent over to her again.

“One thing I should have done much earlier,” he stated and pulled out the dagger from Violette’s belt.

Violette recoiled back in confusion .

“I think you don't want to be lured by vampires, right?” The exposed blade sparkled before her eyes as she slowly stood up.

“Lured?” Her brows twisted warily, palms clenched into fists.

“Well, I definitely don't need it,” he ignored her question. “The only one who I want you to listen to is me so you need a protection spell,” he said while dipping the dagger into his big finger.

Violette's eyes watched this process with caution.

“What are you doing?”

“I guess you don't know that vampire blood has some good sides, it can protect from curses. Don’t your books say anything about it?”

“I've never read such books,” she murmured.

The blood flowed down his finger in a thin stream. Then he raised his hand and nearly pressed a finger to her lips before Violette quickly shrunk back. A few red drops stained the wooden floor.

“What are you exactly doing?” Her voice came out as a mix of anger and confusion.

“Relax, Little Witch. It's just to protect you,” he said airily.

She scolded. “Is it necessary?”

“If you are scared it will turn you into a vampire – don't worry, it doesn’t work this way.”

“I know how people become vampires,” her mouth screwed in a frown. However, did she really know? She'd only known what was said in the legends, and even so, she wasn't really interested in vampire heritage before.

“Then what are you scared of?” he let out with ease, almost unbothered.

“I'm not scared,” Violette grumbled.

“Really? Then why is your heart beating so fast? Or is it because of me?” And there it was – his grin, similar to a devil's. “Am I too close to you? Do you feel excited by this thought?”

Violette forehead creased. “You think too highly of yourself. The only thought that flashed through my head was how I want to introduce your face to the nearest wall.”

He tipped his head to the side with a curious smile. “You've already said it.”

“It's because my dislike of you only grows.” Her features sharpened. “Fine,” she gave out. “But if it's another one of your tricks, I swear you'll regret this,” she warned, straining her back, and tipped her chin.

Dante, amused by her words, kept stupidly smiling, then took a step closer and pressed his big finger to her lips.

Stubbornness still burned in Violette's eyes, but she parted her mouth, letting his blood touch her lower lip.

His finger lingered, stroking it lightly along the soft curve of her mouth before pulling away.

Violette licked the crimson blood, the metallic taste burned her tongue, the distinct sour aftertaste making her grimace.

It was more than repellent, she'd never repeat such a thing again and she hoped there would be no reason for it.

“And how long does it work?”

“As long as I want it to,” he stated .

She drew an incredulous sight at him and then he was gone.

She was twirling the clear bottle with dust in her hands when Dante stepped in the summerhouse again. She raised her eyes at his wet hair and rose from the ground. The vampire shook his head – spray flew in different directions. The rain didn't even think about letting up.

“There's an abandoned estate nearby, I didn't find anything else,” he declared as his hand went through his soaked hair, removing it from his forehead.

Violette’s lips swayed to the side and brows pulled down: she hoped for better news.

“I suppose you still want to go there?” She shriveled at the thought of the battering shower outside.

“Would you rather stay here?”

An abandoned house didn't sound much better in her mind but then Dante added it's not far from the town out there so it made sense to walk there and stay for some time before rain will be, at least, not that strong.

Turning some object into an umbrella was also not a good idea, the strong wind would blow it away so all she could do is just turn her purple cloak over and cover her head with it.

With quick steps they ran across the clearing down the hill.

Splashes flew from their boots and slippery ground almost made Violette fall but she found her balance at the last minute.

Her skirt sodden, the dirt stains covered the hem.

Her cloak got drenched very quickly but soon they were standing in a big empty hall of the abandoned mansion.

It looked broken and desolate. There still were a few pieces of furniture, broken glass on the floor and thick layers of dust on the other surfaces.

The walls, once decorated with expensive patterns, had darkened and were covered in mold.

A crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling lacked details and was slightly skewed to the side, which made Violette carefully pass under, not taking her eyes off it.

The corners were concealed with old web, scraps of which also hung from the ceiling – Violette's nose wrinkled.

The low thud of Dante's step followed her to another room.

“Why do you always bring me to the old dusty places?” Violette went on, stepping over a silver vase lying on the floor. “I'll give you advice, if you ever go on a date don't bring a girl to somewhere like this.”

“You're the only one I bring to places like this,” he sang, his lips curled into a smug smile.

“Oh, I'm flattered,” she sarcastically drawled.

“Why did you decide I meant it in a good way?” His nose creased with a satisfied smile underneath, as he left the room to look around.

Violette trod deeper in the room. It looked like a living room: the old fireplace hadn't been lit for years, a few faded paintings hanging on the wall, an old piano with a broken leg, near an empty dark spot presumably from the sofa which was no longer there.

Violette walked to the wall and pulled out the cracked box they found earlier.

Her gaze lingered on the wooden top of it before she opened the case and looked inside; the content of it haunted her.

She was thinking about it all that time when she was alone in the little summer house but she didn't do what she insisted now.

Her hands placed the box onto the empty fireplace and she took out the crystal bottle with silver dust. It was common knowledge not to consume anything unfamiliar, yet Violette was nearly sure it was a memory powder.

It seemed logical. At least, she certainly knew it wasn't a poison.

She sprinkled some dust on her hand. If Dante doesn't want to – she'll do it. After all, if she doesn’t take a risk, she won't get what she wants.

She shook the powder in her hand, blue grains sparkled with a silver hue as she lifted her hand to her nose.

A sweet flowery scent entered her nostrils – a delicate blend of lilac and blue Renvoit, which was often used in the memory potions.

A decision was made. She raised her hand and threw the powder over her head.

The purply blue grains iridescent with silver slowly landed on top of her head, then her lashes, lips and her clothes.

A burst of sudden tiredness made Violette’s legs give way, a mist crept to the corners of her mind.

“Little Witch! ”

The male voice intruded in the room and she felt a familiar hand under her back, grabbing her before she'd fall onto the floor.

“What have you done?” Dante's face appeared before her eyes before it turned blurry.

“I'll just lie down here for a bit,” she babbled as her eyes started to close and she could no longer feel her body. Everything started to fade to nothing. A gushed sweetness and headiness – all what Violette felt as her eyelids became so heavy, she couldn't keep them open any longer.