had developed. It would devastate me.
Nathan squeezed the top of a dropper, forcing a vibrant pink liquid to shoot down the pipette’s tube into an elegant, green glass bottle shaped like a leaf. “I hope so,” he said. “This is a powerful regenerative tonic, which I developed myself.” He stared at the liquid. “I had some help in the developmental stages, but the recipe is mostly my own.”
“You’re quite the chef.” Genie cast him a shy smile, and he smiled back, pleased. I didn’t get the inside joke, but perhaps I wasn’t meant to. I felt as though I were on the outside of something, looking in, even though I knew it was silly to think that way. Genie had promised it would always be sisters before misters, but damn, were there some fireworks flying, and those two idiots didn’t even seem to realize.
Nathan flashed her a grin. “Can I expect that apron in the post, then?”
“Already ordered.” Genie nudged his ribs and, instead of stepping away again, she stayed close. Like she’d used her playfulness as a subconscious excuse to be nearer to him.
What else did I miss last night? I longed to be allowed into this private realm that was developing between the two of them, but Boudicca’s big black eyes drew my attention back to the pixies. She looked so mournful, drained of her usual vibrancy. Whatever my abductor had done to them, they were suffering because they’d tried to protect me. And that hurt far worse than any residual pains I was feeling.
“Can you give them the tonic now?” I asked, a note of impatience in my voice.
Nathan shook his head, like someone had just doused him in icy water, and said, “Of course. Apologies.” He lifted the dropper to Boudicca’s lips first, but she clamped them shut. “I need you to open your mouth. It’ll help, I promise.”
Boudicca folded her arms across her chest and sniffed the pipette dramatically, wrinkling her tiny nose in disgust. Unfortunately for her, as she opened her mouth to pretend to vomit, Nathan squirted the pink liquid into her mouth. Thinking quickly, I pinched her little nose and held her mouth closed, forcing her to swallow it and ignoring her furious glare. Once the tonic had gone down, I snatched my hand away as she went in for a bite.
“I’m sorry, but I need you to get better!” I protested, as she flew into a tirade of pixie curses. “Nobody likes taking medicine, I know. Yes, I’m a terrible person, but you’ll thank me when you don’t feel like death warmed over anymore.”
She pouted and twisted around in the nook of my arm, sulking. But I smiled as the subtlest hints of blue and red and green filtered back into her pale skin, like someone had dabbed her gently with watercolor. Seeing her color reappear, Cynane and Spartacus lay back in my arms and opened their mouths wide, eager for the tonic. Nathan dropped the liquid onto their tongues while Boudicca gave them a cursory scowl each, as if to say, “traitors.” I took that as a sign that she was already feeling a bit more like herself.
“So, what did Victoria say to you?” Nathan asked as he stoppered the tonic and set it on a small metal ledge beside the pixies’ orb.
“I thought it’d be days before she called you in,” Genie said. “Any juicy gossip on this Veritas thing?”
“Nothing. I told her everything, and in return I was told to mind my business. That’s basically it.” I sighed, gazing down at the pixies like they were my babies. Spartacus stretched out his arms and tried to slip one around Cynane’s shoulders, getting a swift headbutt for his sneaky efforts. He yelped and cowered into the crook of my elbow, where he pretended to fall asleep, feigning an overenthusiastic snore.
“She didn’t say a word about witch hunters?” Genie asked, eyeing Nathan. “How do you know about them, if Victoria isn’t spilling the beans?”
Nathan shrugged. “I don’t know much, to be honest. I’ve heard about them in passing— small groups of anti-magicals who document magical sightings and that kind of thing. They’re mostly conspiracy theorists, and they’re always dealt with pretty quickly if they step over any lines. Mind-wiping and the like. But they’ve never targeted anyone like this before. Not that I know of, anyway.”
“Why did you suggest it might be them, then?” I pressed.
“You mentioned the person who took you wasn’t a magical, but he knew an awful