Page 83 of Too Hexed to Handle

‘I’m sorry. It was selfish.’

I wait for him to storm out. There’s even a fire poker in this room he could take with him, and I know how handy he is with one of those.

Instead, he’s quiet, brow furrowed, hands shoved in his pockets. When he does speak, his voice is low, and rough as sandpaper. ‘Damian wants to kill her?’

‘Yes.’ I chew my lip. ‘If he’s moved into the ruins and planning parties, I assume it’s done.’

Another long stretch of silence. I wish I knew what he was thinking. Every crackle of flame makes me jump, like they’re the prelude to the harsh words I’m sure I’m about to receive. If Eira’s dead, I’ve taken away Astin’s chance at revenge, the one thing he wants more than anything. I may loathe the idea of him having more blood on his hands, but I loathe the idea of him being upset with me more.

Finally, he nods. ‘Tomorrow, we’ll check he’s followed through. Make sure Eira’s dead, get our reward, and ensure Damian pays for what he’s done.’

I can’t help but wince. I’d prefer for Damian to live with the consequences of his actions, not to . . . not live at all.

‘Don’t tell me you’re against it,’ he says, reading my expression. ‘You told me he’s the reason I nearly died. The reason other people are dead. You don’t think he needs to suffer for that?’ He stalks forward. ‘You told me he had you up against a wall.’

Something about the heat in his eyes has me wondering if now would be a good time to mention I’m not opposed to being pressed against walls in the right circumstances. By the right person. Maybe in the next five minutes.

‘If you hadn’t fought back, he would have killed you.’ His nostrils flare. ‘He’d have killed you, and I should kill him for having the thought. I won’t watch anyone else in my life die.’

‘You won’t. I’m right here.’ I reach for him, and he lets me intertwine our fingers. We’re close now, standing inches apart, chests brushing. His thumb absent-mindedly swipes over my hand. ‘I assumed you’d be angrier with me. I shouldn’t have kept Eira’s identity secret from you. I just . . . I’m tired of people dying, when they could be happy instead.’

‘We’ve already established I’m no good at being angry with you. Plus, you might have a point, about the happiness thing.’ His grip tightens, and he swallows. ‘Because when I woke on that cold floor, the first thing I thought about wasn’t revenge. It was that I wished I was with you. And here you are.’

‘Oh.’ My voice is faint. He’s looking at me with the same kind of intent as the night in the cabin, and warmth pools low in my belly. I know where this leads. And I shouldn’t be entertaining it, because nothing’s changed. I’m still hexed. I can’t risk it. I’ve experienced losing him now, and I’m not taking the chance of it happening again. I need to keep my lips far away from him. Only I can’t stop myself from asking, ‘Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about what you said the other night? That you didn’t . . . That you’d never . . .’

At once, the fire in his eyes dies. He drops my hand, which might be a good thing, because it makes it a lot easier for me to stop thinking about kissing him.

He rakes a hand through his hair. ‘I told you that night, I can’t. I lost my heart, Daisy. I don’t . . . I don’t feel things the way you do.’

‘But –’

He ploughs on, rushing over the words as though this might be his one chance to say them. ‘I didn’t tell you about my hex when we met because it wasn’t relevant. In a way, I was glad I had it. It meant I was safe from being hurt again. I had no intention of getting close to anyone, let alone you, but you got under my skin anyway. I’d look at you and find myself wanting things I had no business wanting. I lost control in the cabin because you were right there, all soft and warm, and I couldn’t ignore it any more.’

He balls his fists. ‘When you said you wanted someone to fall for you, I knew I’d made a mistake. How could I tell the person who believes love is the most important thing in the world that it’s the one thing I can’t feel? If I told you the truth, you’d have started looking for loopholes, for some way to prove love always triumphs, and I couldn’t – I can’t – let you do that to yourself. Not for me.’

‘Astin . . .’

‘Don’t. You’re already doing it, see? I know your face.’ Despite everything he’s said, he steps back into my space and trails his finger down my jaw. ‘I know every expression you make, every thought in your head, because I know you. Which is how I know what I’m offering would never be enough.’

‘Shouldn’t I get to decide that? Besides –’ I flatten my palm over his chest once more, and it heaves beneath my touch, like his lungs will beat if his heart won’t. ‘Magic, remember? You said it yourself. And what is love if not a kind of magic? It’s the strongest emotion of all.’

He shakes his head. ‘Stop it. Stop. Ever since I got hexed, there’s been this . . . emptiness in me. Something in me broke that day. I don’t expect you to understand, but I need you to accept it.’

No. I won’t. His emotions are riotous, clouding the room with conflicting scents, but they’re there, nevertheless. I think of Damian, and how difficult it was to find an emotion within him at all.

‘I have touched someone who feels nothing, and believe me, Astin, you aren’t the same. The only reason you feel empty is because you won’t let anything in. But that’s not because you’re incapable of feeling. You wouldn’t be mourning your sister if you didn’t love her. You wouldn’t have sought revenge if you didn’t love her. The only reason it hurts is because you love her. And if you can love your sister then you can love . . .’

My voice threatens to crack.

I take a deep breath before continuing. ‘You’re not broken. You never were. You’re just afraid of being hurt again. If you tell yourself you can’t feel anything, it means you’ll never lose anyone else you care about. But you can feel, Astin. You might not have a heart, but you have proven time and time again that you are not heartless. One day, that empty space in your chest will be flooded with –’

An empty space or a place to fill, an empty thing is hard to kill.

I freeze. Eira’s words, from the day she met Astin, finally return to me in full clarity. Along with the ones she said to me, about my hex:

Poisoned mouth, poisoned dart, a poisoned kiss will stop a heart.

The coroner declared Michael dead from heart failure. They thought it was trauma from the attack. Only I’d felt the shocked gasp against my lips, the slow of his pulse as I pulled away.