He nods, head bobbing slightly, as though in deep contemplation. Like he’s flipping through his mental spell-reversing book, searching for just the right cure. “This is a tough one, Ever.” He takes a deep breath and levels his gaze right on mine. “It’s—complicated.”

I nod, hands clasped in my lap, already painfully aware of that.

“Binding spells—” He rubs his cast against his chin. “Well, they can’t always be undone.”

I lean forward, striving for calm, striving to speak past my agitated breath. “But—I thought everything can be undone—you just have to work the right spell at the right time—right?”

His shoulders rise and fall in a move so final it makes my stomach dip, his gaze on mine as he says, “Sorry, I’m just telling you what I’ve learned through my years of studying and practicing these things. But you’ve got The Book, you’ve got this supposed code that gets past the code—so, you tell me.”

I sigh, leaning back in my seat, fingers picking at the hem of my dress. “The Book’s not much help. I mean, I pretty much did exactly what Romy and Rayne said—used most all the same elements—and—”

He looks at me. “The exact same elements?”

“Well, yeah.” I shrug. “For the most part. I mean, in order to reverse a spell—you need to repeat the same steps as before—it says so right in the book and Romy and Rayne confirmed it.”

He nods. Doesn’t say a word, just nods. But his attempt at restraint rings loud and clear.

“So I can’t imagine what made it go wrong. I mean, at first I thought I’d nailed it, but then it—it completely got away from me and started reversing itself all over again, repeating the same sequence of events as before.”

“Ever, I know you repeated the steps, but did you also repeat the same tools? The same herbs, crystals, and whatever else you might’ve used?”

“Some new, some old.” I shrug, not quite getting his point.

“What’s the main tool you used—the one that really got the spell rolling?”

“Well, after the bath, I—” I narrow my eyes and think, the answer coming instantly: “The athame.” I look at him, both of us knowing that’s it—the big wrong thing that I did. “I—I used it for a blood exchange, and—”

His eyes widen, his cheeks pale, and his aura begins to quiver in a way that’s more than a little frightening. “And was this the same athame you used on me?” he asks, his concern ringing loud and clear.

I shake my head, seeing his face flood with relief. “No, that was just a quickly manifested replica. The real one’s at home.”

He nods, obviously glad to hear it but determined to move on. “Well, I hate to say it, but that’s the one thing you wanted to make new. You need to offer the goddess something new, pure, and unused. You can’t serve her with the same tainted tools you used for the queen of the under-world.”

Oh.

He looks at me, gaze saddened, eyes tugging down at the corners when he says, “I’d love to help you, really I would, but this kind of thing is a little over my head. Maybe you should consult with Romy and Rayne, they seem to know what they’re doing.”

“But do they?” I squint, unsure where I’m going with this, and really just thinking out loud when I say, “Because the thing is, I did listen to them. I did what they said. I mean, granted, they didn’t like the athame, claimed I’d made it all wrong and wanted me to melt it down to a stub, but still, even when I refused, they just let it go. They never once said I couldn’t use it again or that I had to use a whole new set of tools in order to reverse the spell. Somehow they failed to share that with me.”

Our eyes meet, both of us wondering the same thing. Why would they do that? Was it on purpose? Do they really dislike me that much? With Jude dismissing the thought a lot quicker than I. But then, he doesn’t know our history. A history so complicated and volatile, I can’t rule it out.

“Listen, they’re extremely close to Damen—they love him about as much as they hate me. Seriously.” I nod, knowing it’s not an exaggeration—it’s completely and totally true. “And despite the fact they they’re supposedly good witches, I wouldn’t put it past them to do this, thinking they were teaching me a lesson, or heck, maybe even trying to keep Damen and me apart. I mean, who knows what they’ve got planned? But even if it wasn’t intentional, even if they just simply didn’t know any better, there’s no way I can approach them. Because if they did do it on purpose, they’ll tell Damen, and under no circumstances whatsoever can he find out about this—I can’t hurt him that way. And if they didn’t, well, then it’s just one more piece of ammunition in their arsenal of things with which to ridicule me.”

Jude leans toward me, his face determined when he says, “Ever, I get your dilemma, really I do. But don’t you think you’re coming off as just a little bit paranoid these days?”

I narrow my eyes and lean back in my chair, wondering if he’s listened to a single word I’ve just said.

“I mean, first you accuse me of being a rogue, which, by the way, I still don’t know what the heck that is other than it has something to do with Roman, who not only, well according to you anyway, runs his own tribe of evildoers but who you also just happen to both loathe and lust after due to some binding spell gone wrong. And while you can’t be too sure, it’s quite possible, or at least in your mind it is, that Romy and Rayne are out to get you, which is why they purposely left crucial pieces of information out of their instructions so that you could mess up in such a way that would keep you and Damen apart. And speaking of Damen, you’re also convinced he’d never forgive you for this mess that you’ve made—and—” He shakes his head. “Do you see what I’m getting at?”