Page 68 of Potion of Deception (Potion of Deception #1)
“Luring?” Lamia’s forehead creased. “Oh no, vampire blood is incredibly rare and an extraordinarily special ingredient. You can't even imagine how much it can be useful in the field of potion making.”
“I hope I don't meet my clone one day thanks to you,” Dante murmured, wiping his hand with a cloth.
“God forbid, never!” She jolted. “This world cannot stand two like you, and neither can I. How do you even tolerate him?” Her eyes run to Violette.
“I wouldn't be sure she tolerates me,” Dante's voice intervened, drawing their attention. He looked quite serious again. “She is too talkative and likes to bother me with questions all the time. Hard to believe, but she barely can stand me, right, Little Witch?”
“Hard to believe?” Violette sneered, meeting his gaze.
“Yes, because I am so charming and handsome,” he counted airily and drew Lamia's attention back. “And while Violette claims my presence irritates her, it’s undeniable that she actually enjoys my company.”
“I'm going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Violette commented at last.
“Uhh, isn't he just so delusional?” Lamia taunted.
“Said the witch who believed a vampire could fall in love with a human,” he chided.
Lamia's face pulled in a frown. “I was young and stupid and didn’t know your species are not able to love. Don't worry I learned my lesson and will never make this mistake again.”
“Oh, no vampire will look at your wrinkles now," he commented and the witch shot him a vicious smile.
“You should remember it too, Violette. I learned vampires don't have a heart, so don't be surprised if he stabs you with a dagger in the back,” she warned.
“Speaking of daggers,” Dante cast a glance at Violette, “I'm sure she can get ahead of me.”
Violette met Lamia's gaze burned with questions.
“Never mind, we had a few disagreements,” Violette said with an awkward smile .
“Fine, you two have a lot of secrets, I see. You can keep all of them but one I still want to know. What potion do you want to brew?”
“If you don't know then you are a bad potionist,” Dante arrogantly remarked.
Her face painted in gloom in an instant – Violette would do the same if someone doubted her abilities in the potion field.
“I have a few guesses, but I am not Wisenheimer, Dante.” She opened her mouth again but the sudden sound of the bells interrupted her – a man entered the shop.
Dante's eyes flashed at Lamia as a silent hint she is better to go to her new customer and stop nosing out about their business here.
The witch traced her sight from him to Violette and finally said, “If you need a place to brew your potion you can use a pot over there.” She pointed at a little table near the window and spun on her heels in the direction of the man wandering above the little pots with powders.
Dante carefully watched as Violette threw more and more ingredients into the black cauldron. Her moves felt clear and confident – she definitely knew what she was doing. Meanwhile, she tried to not think about him being that close to her, it was making her nervous.
Indeed, the emerging potion wasn't that hard to brew with her skills.
When it came to potion making Violette was attentive and concentrated, certain in her actions and wasn't afraid of a failure.
She had the same faith in her work as she had faith that if you are really diligent, you'll get anything your heart desires.
“How long does it take?” Dante peeked inside the pot, drawing his brows together.
“Around an hour.” Her eyes fixated at the open pages of the book in her left hand. “Give me a spoon.”
Dante took a long wooden spoon hanging on the wall nearby and handed it to her, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table while continuing to watch her work.
The liquid was changing its color inside the pot with every new powder and herb before his eyes, until they locked on her face and he no longer paid attention to the potion.
Violette's serious and collected expression changed as her eyes shifted to him.
“What?” her voice filled with wonder.
“Nothing,” he said simply and then straightened his back. “I'll look around, do your thing.” And he left without spare words, leaving her alone with her best friends – the spoon and the pot.
Violette was replete with excitement as she finally had an opportunity to escape her thoughts about all that was going on in her life. For a moment she could forget about all of it and just do what she truly loved.
A white tendril of Nevar Garras landed on the liquid surface.
Violette looked into the book to check the recipe, her fingers reached to the brown bag and she dropped a pinch of Emersus powder in the pot – the liquid inside was slowly boiling, the bubbles that formed on the surface burst one by one.
With each new ingredient, it changed color until it turned into a light shade of pine.
The slight fresh scent, reminiscent of a breeze, tickled her nostrils.
She was mixing the potion when the sound of steps from behind hit her ears, making her exclaim. It was Lamia – the witch crept up completely silently.
“Oh, excuse me. I thought it's Dante,” Violette exhaled.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” She smiled and then curiously looked over into the pot. “Hm, the potion looks good!”
Violette's face beamed. “Thank you.”
“So you know how to handle a pot and a spoon, I see,” she teased in a kind way.
“I work in a potion shop on the continent.”
“So you're from the continent! Oh, I'd like to go there one day.” The witch leaned with her hand on the table. “It's so interesting to see the wizards and sorcerers community, where magic is…you know, everywhere and not as unusual.”
Violette softly chuckled. “Yes, you have different rules here but it's indeed interesting. And traces of magic still here. It's just different .” Violette quickly glanced at the bubbling pot. “I miss home, but this place isn’t bad. And your house truly looks like something from a fairytale!” She happily looked back at the woman.
“You think so? Are your houses not the same?” Lamia quirked a brow.
“Yes, indeed! It looks more casual – wizards are very neat,” Violette prolonged, slowly stirring the potion, her tone steady and velvety like butter.
The witch canted her head to the side with an interest. “And you grew up around other magic people?”
Violette nodded. “I was lucky enough to be born in the biggest wizard city. Magic there is such a common thing. We have a lot of shops which sell potions, magic animals, spell recipes, enchanted inks and scrolls. We also have a wonderful library with a ton of enchantment books and, no offense, but the best blueberry cakes.”
Lamia's head raised to the ceiling in a ringing laugh. “It sounds truly nice.”
Violette smiled under her breath, fixating her sight at the bubbles on the potion surface.
An awkward silence sealed between them before a sudden dull thud rang off – the cat, who was licking his paws until now, jumped off the windowsill, landed on all fours and then followed the stairs leading to the second floor.
Violette turned her attention back to the witch. “Can I ask you one question?” Her voice became awkwardly quiet.
“Yes, of course. I don't usually have many interesting visitors, so I am happy to answer anything,” Lamia’s eyes shone as she confessed.
The curiosity slinked to Violette’s mind as she tried to rewind their previous conversation in her head.
“You said that vampires can’t love. How is that?”
“Oh, this one,” the witch calmly sighed. “Vampires don't have a heart, not physically of course, but they indeed cannot feel love. They are selfish and think only about their supremacy. As you can see I experienced what a vampire's ‘love’ is, and I don’t recommend it.”
“I am sorry about that.” Violette’s lips pressed together.
“Oh, don’t worry. As I said, the wound is already healed. But my advice to you – be careful and do not let yourself make such a mistake like I did. It can end in ruins for you.”
“Oh, believe me, I don’t plan to fall for a vampire.” Violette chortled.
She was not that stupid. Yes, she kept making mistakes and getting trapped in bad situations, but she wasn’t dumb.
Never in her life could she imagine herself falling in love with a night bloodsucking monster – it was illogical and absurd.
And except the fact that they were talking about vampires, how could she feel some deep feelings toward someone who is so blatantly selfish and rude as Dante?
Or those vampires she saw a few moons ago in the Vampire Kingdom?
How could someone even find something attractive in their souls?
They had nothing but a pretty face, and however it was everlasting, their love would never be real and their interest most likely would fade in a very short time, leaving you completely wretched as if you had never been a part of their immortal life.
She felt sorry for Lamia, she didn’t know her story but it seemed like such a tragic turn of events.
Nobody likes to be misled, especially by someone who they keep close to the heart.
“Great, because in one thing Dante is right. He indeed has a pretty face even if half of it is covered.” Lamia winked at her. “Don’t tell him I said it. No need to feed his ego.”
Violette laughed. “Your secret will die with me.”
The seething liquid under her gaze changed its hue for the tenth time, now radiating a teal shade, when the menacing sound of the clock ricocheted in her mind.
“Nine o'clock, time to feed Acies.” Lamia clapped and immediately disappeared, leaving Violette with her own thoughts.
Her gaze drifted to the window.