This Coven Won't Break - Isabel Sterling Page 0,95
so glad you have her. She’s still welcome here anytime.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I squeeze back, but I have to pull away first. When we get to the dining room, only Archer, Cal, and Elder Hudson are waiting for us. A glass of shimmering opalescent liquid, like melted pearls, sits on the table.
Archer must see my confusion. “Your grandmother took the others back to her place. We still need to question them about their involvement with the Hunters.”
Cal pulls out a chair for Gem. “The potion will feel a little weird going down, but it won’t hurt.”
“Will I know why you’re all here?” Gemma asks, peering into the glass and sniffing its contents. “If I don’t know about magic, will I even know . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t actually get your name.”
The Elder smiles at her. “It’s John Hudson, and no, you won’t remember how I’m connected to Hannah. I’m leaving to join Lady Ariana, but I wanted to thank you for doing this. This is always easier when it’s done willingly.” Elder Hudson excuses himself, and when the front door closes behind him, Cal slides the pearl-like liquid closer to Gem.
“You’ll feel disoriented when you wake up, but it’ll pass quickly. Your mind will need to smooth the frayed edges of memory where magic used to be.” Cal smiles encouragingly at her. “The human mind does a pretty great job protecting itself from that kind of dissonance. You’ll be okay. Archer and I will wait in the kitchen until you leave.”
“Well, I guess this is it.” Gemma raises the glass like a toast. “Here’s to no longer knowing I’m the only muggle in the room.” She downs the shimmering liquid in one long gulp and grimaces when she sets the empty glass on the table. “Wow, that shit is weird. What the heck is in—” Gemma’s eyes flutter rapidly and then close completely, her entire body going slack in her chair.
“Gemma? Gemma, are you okay?” I reach for her, but Morgan holds me back.
“Cal said to let the potion run its course.”
“But—”
As quickly as unconsciousness took her, it subsides. Gemma stirs slowly, like she’s waking up from a simple nap. When her eyes flutter open, she stares blankly at me, completely dazed. Her pupils are dilated, covering the blue of her irises, but then she blinks and she’s herself again.
“Hannah? Oh my god, Hannah! You’re okay!” She leaps out of the chair and crushes me in a hug. “I’ve been so worried about you! What happened? Why weren’t you at school the past two days?”
I have to fight tears. “I’m fine. I’m okay.” I pull back and look her over. She seems like herself. “What do you remember?”
Confusion crosses her face like a cloud. “We were at homecoming when we found out Benton escaped from jail. And then you didn’t come to school on Monday, which I expected, but then you weren’t there again today and no one would tell me what was going on and—” She shakes her head, like she’s trying to dispel something confusing. “I was so worried, and Morgan texted me that you were home and—oh my god! Did Benton kidnap you? I will kill him if he hurt you.”
“The police have us in protective custody,” Mom says, sitting in the seat beside Gem. “We aren’t supposed to be seen until that boy is back in jail.”
Gemma looks from Mom to me and back again. Hurt crosses her face, but eventually she nods. “Why are you home, then? Are you safe now?”
“Safer,” Mom says. “The detective is in the other room. I’m really sorry, Gemma, but we aren’t supposed to have any visitors yet.”
“Oh.” Her face falls. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Walsh.” Gemma stands and squeezes my hand. “Text me later?”
“Of course.”
“Are you coming, Morgan?” Gem asks.
Morgan looks at me, but I don’t know how to explain why it’d be okay for her to stay if Gemma has to go. My girlfriend forces a smile. “We’re right behind you!”
We follow Gem to the front door. “Are you sure everything’s all right?” she asks.
I hug her tight, one more time, before I let her and Morgan leave. “Yeah. It’s good. I’ll call you later.” I watch until Gemma’s car rumbles to life and rolls out of view.
When they’re gone, Archer approaches, one hand pressed to his ribs.
“I hate this,” I tell him, promising myself it’ll be the last time I say those words out loud. They aren’t going to help me fix any of it.