Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Wynter narrowed her eyes. “Is there a problem?”
“Oh, there’s a problem all right,” he said, setting his fists on his hips. “And that Delilah bitch had better come out here and fix it. Where is she?”
Oh, for the love of God.
Demetria looked from him to Wynter. “I’ll leave you to deal with this,” she said, already retreating, a hint of smugness in her tone. She’d no doubt reached the same conclusion as Wynter—Delilah had sold yet another of her funky potions and pissed off a customer. And since Demetria’s workplace had been losing customers to Wynter’s shop, the oracle was getting a kick out of this. Bitch.
“Delilah!” Eddie yelled. “Get out here!”
Wynter raised her hands. “Okay, you need to lower your voice. If you want help, I can—”
Delilah materialized at her side. “What’s going on?”
He leaned forward slightly, all aggression. “What the hell was in that goddamn potion?”
“You’ll need to refresh my memory on what it was you—Oh no wait, you’re the dude who has a crush on his best friend’s girlfriend,” Delilah recalled. “You want her to be addicted to the taste of your blood so she’ll feed from you instead of him and then maybe you can win her to your side.”
Damn, what an asshole.
“You said if I added a little of my blood to the potion and then got her to drink it she’d be addicted to my blood from then on. Only it didn’t work, and now there’s this.” He whipped off his bandana.
Wynter cringed. Jesus.
“I warned you there might be side effects,” Delilah snootily told him.
His eyes blazed. “You didn’t say that one of said side effects might be a rash on my forehead that’s the exact shape of a fucking cock.”
Delilah hummed. “Brings a whole new meaning to the term ‘dickhead,’ doesn’t it?”
Wynter felt her eyelid twitch. God, she was gonna kill the woman one day . . . if someone else didn’t beat her to it, which was highly possible. “Eddie, you must have heard that some of her potions cause stuff like this to happen.”
“A lot of her potions do actually work, though,” he said.
Wynter held up one index finger. “Not if the intention of the buyer is dark. Be fair, Eddie, you tried using magick to do a shitty thing to someone. As such, magick instead did a shitty thing to you.”
His shoulders sagged in what she’d like to believe was shame, and he rubbed at his forehead hard. “Fuck, it itches like a twat.”
“I can help you get rid of the rash—”
“Yes. Do that. I want it gone.”
Wynter gave him one of Anabel’s reversal potions, advised him against ever again trying to misuse magick, gave him a few placatory comments, and then slammed the door shut.
Perching her hands on her hips, she turned to glare at Delilah. “So when I told you not to sell any more of those freaking potions, what is it exactly that you heard?”
Delilah flapped her hand in an “oh relax” gesture and made her way back to the kitchen. “Come on, Wyn, you saw how effective they are at making people face their fuck-ups.”
“I also saw a goddamn dick-shaped rash on his forehead.”
Delilah shrugged, retaking her seat. “Karma works in mysterious ways.”
“Karma has nothing to do with you being a fucking nut.”
“I’m just handing out life lessons. The world needs more people like me. Even Xavier agrees with that.”
“And you’re going to put weight in the words of a pathological liar?”
Pausing in shuffling his cards, Xavier frowned. “Hey, there’s no pathology at play here. I merely have a fondness for stretching the truth.”
Wynter snorted at him. “You don’t even go near the truth, let alone stretch it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Everybody lies. Including all of you. Delilah does it every time she swears she won’t sell more karma brews. Anabel does it every time she promises she’ll stop experimenting on herself with her newly created potions. Hattie does it every time she claims she’s sorry for killing her husbands—”
“Excuse me, that is not a lie,” Hattie cut in, fishing a homemade tea ball out of the cupboard’s collection. “I’m very sorry for what I did.”
“You regret poisoning them?” he asked. “Really?”
Hattie hesitated. “Well, no, but I am sorry it came to that.”
Wynter cut her gaze back to Delilah. “I need you to stop selling those potions.”
Delilah’s brow creased. “But I’m providing a service to society.”
“You’re being a menace to society.” And the woman got a damn kick out of it.
“I am on a path.”
“To getting yourself killed by someone you’ve pissed off.”
Delilah folded her arms. “I’m merely following the teachings of—”
“A witch who feasted on human flesh.”
“No one’s diet is perfect.”
Wynter breathed deeply. Lord, give me strength. “I love you, Del, I do. That’s why I ride your ass over this. Please be a little more careful with your life.”