Page 89 of Bewitching Her Monsters
“You only fed him so he could protect you, since you’re a weak witch.” Calder has lost some of his steam, so it comes out as more of a fact and not quite an insult.
“Yeah, I don’t want to die. But I also did it because it felt like the right thing to do to help him solve his murder.” She frowns. “And I did it for all of you—because he’s your friend. But the gesture is likely lost now, since I’m guessing I’m your prisoner of war.”
Calder grunts in agreement.
Maxum narrows his eyes at the phoenix. “We need to keep you here, Jade. But that’s as much for your sake as ours. If Rob finds out you survived, he will come after you again.”
“Oh! My fur babies!” she gasps. “Did Rob hurt them, too?”
She seems more worried about them than the fact she’s our prisoner.
“I didn’t think to check on them. But why would he do anything to them?” I ask.
“Rob hates them… for some strange reason.”
Probably because he knows they are magical creatures. But I keep that one to myself. This has been enough of a revelation tonight.
“If you plan on keeping me prisoner, please take them to a shelter so they don’t die of neglect?” Her sad green eyes undo me.
Apparently, Maxum is affected too. He sighs as if this is sending him over the edge. “I’ll check on them.” He gets up and goes into the backyard to portal out. I find it telling that he’s so kind in easing her into this world.
I’m also happy that she seems to accept most of this without solid proof.
Although, I won’t be surprised if she relapses. I’ve seen it before. Then we will have to show her our true forms to make her understand.
After a moment of her sitting quietly dazed, Maxum calls out that the animals are safe.
“Thank you,” she whispers. Her eyelids droop. She sways in her seat and falls sideways over my lap.
“I’m putting her in my room,” I announce and carry her into my small space, setting her down on my bed. I brush her long hair from her face and pray she will forgive me when I confess my sins.
27
HERE WE GO
JADE
“Am I losing my fucking mind?” I ask the darkness that surrounds me.
I’m back in the shadowscape, as Osen calls it.
“No,” Osen says as the room we’re in lightens up enough for me to see his shadowform standing in front of me.
I’m in my bedroom, not passed out on Arran’s couch.
“You are a witch… as I’ve been telling you since we first spoke,” he reminds me.
“Your kind hates my kind.” Feeling utterly depressed about being their enemy, I sit anxiously on the edge of my bed.
My mind registers that I’m naked, and I cross my arms in a futile attempt to cover up.
“No need for that here,” Osen says gently, his shadowbody moving closer. “If you are uncomfortable with your nakedness, even after all we experienced together, I can conjure clothes for you.”
Osen’s right. He’s seen all the goods. He’s been inside this version of my body—which is very much like my actual body.
“You control all of this?” When he nods, I ask, “Then why do you have me look like this? Is it to make it feel more real because it appears to be my own body?”
I watch for his reaction. I find it’s easier to do because he is more solid now. I can see hints of confusion on his face. “I like the way you are made.”
