Page 83 of Don't Bite the Botanist
That was the word she had put emphasis on. But what could that possibly have to do with…
It hit him like a fastball to the face, and he could only hope Renata didn’t catch the slight widening of his eyes before he schooled his expression.
His mom’s friends.
The witches.
The potion.
“You’ll know when the time is right.”That was what the kind, older woman in the 50’s swing dress had said.
He smiled at Tressa. “I agree,” he said, running his hand down the side of her arm to rest on her hip, inches away from his own pocket that held the small vial. “I think she would be proud.”
He pulled his mate to his chest with one arm and kissed her with allthe passion he felt just in case he failed. While he let his head fill with all the beautiful moments they’d spent together, his hand slipped away from her hip and moved to his own, sliding into the loose pocket of the black track pants he was glad he’d chosen over tight jeans.
His fingers curled around the bottle, and Tressa let out a tiny moan, deepening the kiss. He slowly pulled the potion from his pocket, his thumb brushing against the cork stopper as he tested to see how easily he could pop it off.
Time stood still as he debated.
Drink or toss.
Both were viable options, but he couldn’t decide. The witch hadn’t been clear. In fact, she’d been purposefully vague about what the hell he was supposed to do with the liquid. Was it poison or protection?
Drink or toss.
He’d told her exactly what he was going up against—an ancient vampire—and she hadn’t even blinked. Simply disappeared into her kitchen for a moment, then returned with the vial, telling him it was the exact thing he needed.
Drink or toss.
His mind flashed back to when Saiden had hurled the gas canister. How easily Renata had caught it. There was no way he could throw the bottle fast enough to catch her off guard.
Drink or toss.
He could see only one realistic choice, and he had to try.
Drink.
As he slowly pulled back from their kiss, he lifted the potion to his mouth, dragging it up between their bodies so Renata wouldn’t see. He leaned in close to Tressa, pressing his forehead to hers.
Please let this work.
His thumb pressed against the cork lid, loosening it.
“I love you,” he whispered to Tressa.
“I love you too, Ethan. Whatever happens, I—”
Before Tressa could finish her sentence, she was flung away from him with a pained yelp, and a hand clamped down on the one holding the potion, pausing it less than an inch from his lips. He looked into Renata’s dark eyes, and a sinking feeling coiled in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m disappointed,” she said sadly. “I told you not to try anything, and yet you didn’t listen.”
Ethan swallowed roughly. He could see the vial. It was so close, yet the grip holding him might as well have been carved from marble for all he could move his hand.
He’d failed.
Renata glanced down at the bottle and then back up to Ethan. She dug the tip of the stake into his chin, forcing him to look at her. “I am curious, though. What exactly did you think you were going to do?”
“Nothing,” he snapped. If he was going to die, he would at least show her that he wasn’t afraid. It was all he had left.
