I bit my lip, trying to restrain my excitement. “Is it something you could teach me?”
I looked to Laurel, who raised both eyebrows this time and gave me a satisfied smile. “You know, that sounds like an excellent idea. Pete could help you make a scrying potion so you could look in on your godmother. It would be an excellent way to begin practicing your magic.”
I looked to my uncle. “You make potions?”
He didn’t even bother opening his mouth—Aunt Laurel just butted in. “He’s quite talen
ted with potions. That’s how he ensorcelled me. A love potion.” She gave her husband an absolutely licentious look.
“Mom!” Casey blanched and slammed down his chopsticks.
I turned to my uncle, excitement dancing across my skin. “Would you help me?”
Uncle Pete grinned. “How about tomorrow morning?”
I matched his broad smile. “I can’t wait.”
Things were finally coming together. I’d found my family, and while they were clearly into shady shit, my parents had been, too. It almost felt natural to have someone claim to be really good at illegal stuff.
Moreover, I’d learned that I had magic. I’d learned that despite years of being beaten down by work and school and a backwoods upbringing, there might be something special about me after all. I still had no idea why I’d been attacked, but with a scrying potion, I might be able to get some answers without having to rely on Jaxson Laurent.
16
Savannah
After dinner, we cleared the table, and then my uncle came into the room with a tray of beautiful purple flowers with roots, leaves, and all. “If I’m going to help you make a potion, you’ll need to work. Time to prep some potion components.”
Casey snickered. “Welcome to my childhood. And adulthood.”
Uncle Pete set the tray down and tossed me some plastic gloves.
My eyes widened. “Is this for the scrying potion?”
“No, this is just for the family business. This place is a sweatshop. Get used to it,” Casey said.
I pointed to the flowers. “What are these? They’re beautiful.”
“Aconitum,” my uncle said. “We mostly import it, but this is locally grown. It’s a good component for potions, but toxic. Be careful while you’re handling it.”
He showed me how to delicately remove the beautiful, hood-shaped blossoms without damaging them, and then how to clip the leaves and roots. We separated them into little jars. He wasn’t kidding when he’d said they were toxic. My eyes were itchy and began to water.
Laurel joined us, pulling apart the flowers. She regarded me closely, then handed me a box of tissues. “I assume you were unable to get your car back today?”
The thought of Jaxson killed the sense of peace I’d gotten from plucking blossoms. “What’s the deal with you and the Laurents, anyway?”
My aunt and uncle paused. Apparently, this was not an after-dinner conversation, or at least not a flower-plucking conversation.
“They’re furry, and they suck,” Casey said from the sink, where he was half-assing the dishes.
I figured I’d crossed into forbidden territory, so I looked down and began to pick at the pretty purple flowers again.
“There’s a lot of bad blood,” my aunt finally murmured. “But we don’t need to talk about that tonight.”
My uncle leaned forward and put his arms on the table. His voice was bold. “Three centuries ago, Magic Side was a cluster of little islands in Lake Michigan. People filled in the spaces and created a unified city. But our island stayed separate. Ultimately, the city council, which was largely made up of wolves, forced us to join them. They got rid of our harbor so that we’d be beholden to the city. Then they tried a land grab.” He waved a flower defiantly. “We taught them a lesson about what’s ours and what’s theirs.”
My eyes darted between my aunt and uncle, unsure if I should encourage him. It was better I had the information, though, so I blurted, “But that was so long ago.”
“They control all the bridges and the harbor, and they haven’t stopped trying to squeeze us. You’ll learn. Give them what they want, and they’ll take more.”