Page 59 of A Trial By Blood

Again, I forced myself to hold my ground when my immediate reaction was to jerk back. I’d never seen a witch with eyes like that. “Will you help me?”

“For a price,” she said, studying me.

“What price?”

“A favor, at a date and time of my choosing.”

“Rose,” Ronan said, curling his fingers around my wrist.

“What kind of favor?” I asked.

“No,” Ronan bit out. “Do not bargain with this female.”

Agatheena didn’t spare Ronan a glance. “Something simple, collecting something for me.”

“Collecting what?”

She scowled. “Well, I don’t know yet, do I? When I need something, I’ll know, then you’ll know.” She turned away. “If you want my help, you will agree to my price, otherwise—”

“I agree.”

She turned back and grinned, flashing yellow pointed teeth. “Excellent.” She waved a gnarled hand toward one of the jars hanging on her tree. “The tree needs a lock of your hair before you can pass. And be quick about it.” Then she headed back up the path and into her cottage, waiting for me to join her.

I pulled the knife from my coat again, but Ronan took it from my fingers before I could reach for my hair.

“You won’t listen to me, will you?” he said.

“I need to do this, Ronan.” He slid my hair over my shoulder and pulled a lock from underneath forward, his expression hard. I was positive I could hear him grinding his teeth. “You’re angry.”

“Yes,” he said. “But not at you, at this whole situation. That you’ve been forced to put yourself at risk this way. I don’t like it, Rose.” He made a loop in a small section of hair and sliced it with my knife. “I fucking hate it.”

It shocked me every time he cursed. Even the way he spoke was changing. He slipped in and out of the old Ronan and the new. From speaking in full precise sentences to cursing and talking far more casually. He was changing every day, becoming the male he would have been, or at least a variation of himself, if Azel had never come into their lives and torn it apart.

I slid the hair from his fingers and touched his arm. “I’m not scared because I have you to protect me.”

He flashed his teeth, not in a smile. He still hadn’t blessed me with one of those. No, this was a baring of teeth and fangs. “If anyone hurts you, Rose, I’ll tear their throats out and drain their lifeblood until their hearts stop beating.”

What did you say to that? A vow to murder anyone who hurt me? And I was in no doubt he meant every word. “Um…thanks.”

He didn’t respond, just unscrewed the jar hanging on one of the branches and held it toward me. I twisted the hair, curling it up so I could get it in, and he did up the lid, letting the jar hang once more.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said.

I took his hand and strode between the trees at the entrance to the path, Ronan right behind me—

He barked out a curse—and was thrown back, tossed across the forest floor. He sprang back to his feet immediately and charged the entrance again. And again, he was thrown back. He barely hit the ground before he was back on his feet.

His eyes were bright, wild, his fangs sharp. Fury rolled off him. “Come back!” he roared. “Now, Rose.”

I turned to him, but before I could take a step in his direction, magic coiled around me and dragged me right up to the cottage. I called on my own magic. It sparked inside me, filling my chest, shooting down my arms, as I yelled out a spell, one to counter a magical attack, something Mom had taught us all as children, but Agatheena’s hold on me didn’t lessen. She was far too strong. The cottage door opened, and I was propelled inside, the door slamming behind me. “Let me go!” I struggled and shrieked, but couldn’t break free.

Agatheena sat by her fire, and she turned to me as she sucked on the pipe she was holding. She blew out blue smoke right into my face…I instantly calmed.

She smiled, pleased with herself, and flashed those pointed yellow teeth again. “Stop your caterwauling. I’m not going to eat you, girl.”

I saw it now. Agatheena wasn’t only a witch. Those red eyes and her pointed teeth gave her away. “You’re a demon, aren’t you?”

“I’m a witch as well. Same as you, my blood is mixed. Got as much demon in my blood as you have shifter in yours.” She shuffled to one of the cupboards in the small kitchen area and pulled down two mugs, then went about making tea. Her familiar followed, flying to perch on the back of one of the chairs at the table, staring at me again.