“You know.” She waved her hand around. “Your flicky thing. Is it not working again?”
“My ‘flicky-thing’ is working just fine. I’ve warded this cottage against magic, so I have to do this the pathetic human way.”
“Why would you do something like that?”
The same reason I did anything: To keep her safe. “Our magic leaves a lingering scent, and I never wanted the Queen to find out about you. This was where you were supposed to wake after Tadhg’s curse wore off.” If things had gone to plan, Aveen would’ve woken up here and been happy for the rest of her days.
But that hadn’t happened. Her infernal sister had gotten in the way, and now look where we were. I stalked outside with the kettle. Phil jumped out from the thicket, taking ten years off my life. When I came back, I found Aveen stark naked in the freezing tub.
My groin tightened.
Her lips hooked into a smile. “Do you know if there’s any soap?”
I dropped the kettle, running into the junk room for soap and snagging one of the two towels on top of a rickety shelf on the way back into the living room.
She thanked me, drops of water dripping down her forehead. Clinging to her lips.
I wanted to continue staring but forced myself away, going into the bedroom to find a dress for her to wear. I’d shifted a handful of garments, most of them plain so she wouldn’t stand out amongst the other residents in Hollowshade. There were two nicer gowns, something she could wear for a festive occasion. Or if she wanted to look well for any callers she may have.
Feck it all. I hoped she became a spinster.
Aveen shouted for me, and I clambered for the door. The woman’s skin had taken on a blue-ish tint from where she stood, water cascading down her body as she stared at her hands.
“Why are you roaring?” I asked.
“Look.”She held out her hands toward me. At first, I didn’t understand what she wanted me to see, but then I noticed the silver scars adorning her wrists.Impossible. The bundle in my arms fell to the wet ground. Those marks had been red and raw earlier today. I was sure of it.
“You don’t think—” she started.
“I don’t know.” Healing that quickly should’ve been impossible, and yet here she was, with silver scars just like mine.
“I shifted your dagger,” she rushed, our gazes tangling. “At least I think I did.”
If she’d shifted the dagger, that meant—“Shit.”Shit. Could this really be happening? Could fate finally be giving me a chance for happiness?
“Does this mean I can evanesce?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” If she could evanesce . . . the possibilities were endless.She could come and go as she pleased.
“Can I do the flicky thing?”
I almost smiled when she tried. Even if she could, calling on magic would be impossible inside the cottage because of the wards. “I don’t know.”
Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath. “Am I immortal?”
The dagger trapped a true immortal’s life force, their magic. It made sense that since Aveen had been resurrected using Tadhg’s that his magic now flowed through her veins.
But just because it made sense didn’t mean it was true.
It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. I couldn’t handle the hope that I would never have to save goodbye to this woman. “How the hell am I supposed to know?” The only way to truly test it out would be to kill her and see if she came back. And I wasn’t about to try.
Immortal or not, my number-one priority was keeping Aveen safe. Being a true immortal wouldn’t stop the Queen from stealing Aveen’s heart and taking control of her the way she had taken control of me.
I still needed to kill the Queen.
“The dagger,” Aveen whispered.
The dagger didn’t matter. None of it did.