Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“I’ll tell ya what you’re gonna do, Wyn,” began Delilah. “You’re gonna let yourself have this. Gonna let yourself have him, to be more exact.”
“Del—”
“You need to get laid, okay. Let him do the laying. I’m thinking he’ll be good at it.”
“Let’s just—”
“No, no hemming and hawing. Trust your Aunty Delilah, this is what you need. It’s what your body needs. Tomorrow, you’re going to primp yourself up and choose an outfit that flashes some camel toe—”
“And I’m walking away now,” said Wynter, spinning on her heel.
“What’s camel toe?” asked Hattie.
Xavier burst out laughing.
Wynter hadn’t expected to have so many customers their first morning. Many probably came by purely out of curiosity, but few people left empty-handed—buying potions, baked goods, and bespelled cosmetics via the open living room window. It was Delilah who handled the transactions, leaving Hattie and Anabel able to stay in the kitchen.
Sat in his tent in the front yard, Xavier also got a lot of custom. Wynter spent the first hour keeping an eye on things, wanting to be sure all was going smoothly. She was about to head off to the shed when a male demon, bored waiting for his partner to choose from Delilah’s selection, abruptly asked Wynter, “So what do you do?”
She tilted her head. “Do you have a weapon of any sort on your person?”
His tongue flicked out to touch his upper lip. “Yeah.”
“Then follow me and I’ll show you.” She led him into the shed, which was now clean and pretty bare apart from a workbench and two stools.
He frowned at the selection of small bottles on the shelf. “What are all those?”
“Some are reversal potions, some are healing potions,” she replied. “So, what do you have?”
He pulled out an athame so sharp and shiny it almost made her drool.
“Nice.” She place it on a workbench. “I can do various things to weapons to give them an ‘edge,’ shall we say. The enchantments serve as distractions. They give you a way to mess with your opponent’s head. I’ll make this one a surprise. If you don’t like it, I can undo it.”
He nodded. “All right.”
Her old coven hadn’t liked her using her magick much, but even they had welcomed this particular service. In fact, most of the townspeople had—particularly the keepers.
Wynter hovered her hand above the blade and called to her magick. Dark with an ultraviolent undertone, it shimmered in the air like waves of heat as it reached out like vaporous, outstretched fingers.
“Whoa.” He moved closer, watching as said vaporous fingers sank into the metal, heating and empowering it. Runes glittered and sparked as they appeared along the blade. And then it was done. He studied the runes. “I don’t recognize them.”
“Because you don’t possess dark magick as I do.” She lifted the athame. “All right, to show you what this baby can do, I’ll unfortunately have to prick you with it—or you can do it to yourself, whatever.”
He took the athame from her. “Why?”
“The runes will cause an illusion, but it will only work on whoever the blade wounds. Others won’t experience or be able to witness it.” She grabbed a reversal potion from the shelf and handed it to him. “This will undo it.”
“All right.” He lightly stabbed the pad of his thumb with his blade, making blood bead to the surface. Mere moments later, he reared back, staring at his hand in horror. Caught up in the illusion only he could see, he jerked and cursed, his hand beginning to tremble.
She tapped the vial he held. “Drink.”
He swiftly knocked back the reversal potion and then shuddered with a cough. He flexed his hand, studying it from every angle. “Sweet Jesus, that was a mind fuck. I thought I’d stabbed right through my thumb. There was blood everywhere and the wound just kept growing and growing until my thumb was hanging from my hand by a string of skin. The pain was unreal.”
“My illusions are strong enough to fool all the senses. They create panic and confusion. The runes on your blade will make your opponent believe that their wounds are infinitely worse than they truly are. Even if they suspect it’s an illusion, they’ll still be distracted, especially by the pain.”
“How long will the illusion last?”
“Approximately twenty minutes.”
He stared at Wynter, his eyes sparkling with interest. “That’s … I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that.”
She smiled. “Pretty cool, huh? Be sure to spread the word.”
Shortly before lunchtime, he returned with several of his lair who wanted their own weapons to be enchanted. They weren’t her only customers. Others came—partially out of genuine interest, and partially because they didn’t want people with enchanted weapons having an edge over them.
Later, after the ‘store’ was closed and the entire crew was then sat around the kitchen table, Xavier poured their profits onto the surface while Delilah scribbled down the items or services they’d taken in trade. Hattie’s ‘space cakes’ had been highly popular, as were Anabel’s potions that enabled people to see past fey glamor.