Chapter Thirty-Seven

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James's body relaxed as the mixture within the cauldron started smoking. My own body followed suit under the assumption that the smoking was exactly what we wanted to see. Then, the potion began to spark a few times before catching on fire.

"Nice work." James smiled as he grabbed an empty potion bottle and handed it to me. "If you scoop it while the flames are still ignited it should prove even more potent."

I grabbed the nearby ladle and sunk it into the flaming cauldron in front of me. Even though the flames felt warm against my skin, they didn't affect the ladle as I scooped. After three scoops my bottle was full and I plugged the opening with a cork. As if the potion knew I was finished, it caught on fire, just as the cauldron had. I instinctively dropped the bottle, afraid of getting burned. James reached his hand out and grabbed it. The flames didn't burn his own hands and he offered it back to me.

"Is it not burning you because you're used to active potions like this one or will it actually not hurt me?" I didn't make any motion to take the potion back. James grabbed my hand and brought it to the bottle. I didn't resist him; I didn't want to. If this was a lesson I was about to learn from a master of potions I'd rather learn than sass him. He held my hand against the bottle. Just as it had with the cauldron, I felt the warmth of the flame, but the flames didn't burn me.

"It's meant to be that way." He offered. His hands were still holding mine against the potion. I wondered how much of the heat in my hands was from the potion or his hands on my own. It was a soft warmth, nothing more than a spark, and not as intense a sensation as I was used to when it came to men. But there was something about it that called to me, whether a simple connection or sense of trust, or something more. I couldn't really tell but I didn't want to lose the feeling.

James was the first to pull away as he grabbed the ladle for himself and scooped the remainder of the potion into open bottles.

"So where did you learn potions?" I questioned. He wasn't in Silverleaf at the same time I was, which meant he didn't learn potions from his mother.

"My dad, mostly. He also taught my mom back when they were together." He didn't look at me when he spoke and continued to scoop. It didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it anymore and I wasn't one to judge him for not wanting to discuss his past. Finally, after sitting in silence, he followed up, "What about you?"

"Oh, I learned potions from your mom."

"That's not what I meant." He turned to look at me.

"I'm not following."

"My mom always talked about you, including that your powers were stronger after leaving than when she was training you. Where did you learn your magic?" He popped a cork into the final bottle and faced me.

"A culmination of people," I answered without even thinking about it. Celeste was by far my most powerful teacher, but after leaving Silverleaf I learned a lot about the real world. "You quickly find how much power you can wield when you have to use it to protect yourself. Not like I intended to get into trouble, but it happened."

"That seems to be a pattern for you." He smirked. I smiled as I sat down on the edge of the table. He leaned in and rested his arms on the table next to me, keeping the rest of his body upright.

"It wasn't like that. Silverleaf is special. Even with how big it is and how many outsiders might come to visit, it seems small in comparison to somewhere like Veridara. I wasn't prepared for a big city. A petty thief stole the only money I had on me while I walked down the street. Without any money for the night, I had to get creative. Washing dishes only made you so much money and it couldn't afford the rent, it barely covered a motel room for the night. So, I took to helping those without magic. It ultimately led me to the Deadly Witches, but I didn't start there."

"I'm not surprised you ended up there."

"With the Deadly Witches?" I laughed

"Sure, a beautiful and powerful witch, of course they'd want you in the coven." Halfway through the sentence, I watched his eyes, once making direct eye contact with me, track to something behind me.

"Did you just call me beautiful, James?" I smiled at him, assuming he looked away out of some form of playful shyness, before his body became rigid and he stood up. Whatever ruined the moment was behind me. I stood up and turned toward the glass wall at my back. In the depths of the ocean behind us, a large shadow slowly grew in size as it got closer to the Vault.  

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