“Is it the bond to Frank?” Cassandra asked in a gentle, yet straightforward tone.
Aimee nodded mutely, gripping the vial in her hand so tightly she was afraid it would crack.
Cassandra winced, then bit her lip thoughtfully. “Okay, this sucks.”
“He-he.... forced... me... to drink last night,” Aimee stuttered. Visions of Frank filled her mind, both tantalizing and terrifying.
“Shit. That asshole.” Cassandra shook her head. “But you’re a witch, not human. Can’t you fight it?”
“It’s fucking with me. I was able to throw the fake spell because...because...he said to throw it. He didn’t know it w
as fake.”
“What did he tell you when you came to see me?” Cassandra asked in a careful tone.
“He said... I said that I had to check on the spells. He said to do it.” Aimee paced before the door, pulling at her hair with her free hand. She felt like her insides were liquefying inside of her. If she went to Frank, she knew the torment would stop.
“What’s in your hand?”
“A spell...” Aimee held it out slowly. The purple liquid sloshed around inside the vial.
“And you need to check on it, right?” Cassandra tilted her head and gave her a hopeful smile.
“Yes!” Aimee took a step forward, her mind resting on that thought. The pain lessened. “I’m obeying him by checking the spell.”
“To make sure it works, right?”
“Yes!”
“So...you’re obeying him.”
“Yes! Yes, I am!” Relief flooded her, irrational and wonderful. She was obeying Frank. He wanted her to check the spells. She clung to that thought in her mind as she hurried to Cassandra.
Staring into Aimee’s eyes, Cassandra smiled tenderly. “So... how do we make sure it works?”
“I have to put your blood into it and then I drink it.” Aimee tried not to think any further than the superficial thought that she was checking the spell’s effectiveness.
Cassandra sighed softly, raising her eyes to the shackles holding her wrists over her head. “I don’t suppose checking on the spell includes releasing me?”
Pain twisted through her mind and body at the mere thought. Adamantly shaking her head, Aimee whispered, “No.”
“Okay. So you need some of my blood. Got a knife? That asshole took my weapons.”
“I forgot one,” Aimee said warily. “And...” She averted her eyes nervously. “You have to drink my blood. First.”
Cassandra craned her head and tried to lower her head toward Aimee’s throat.
Rising to her toes, Aimee realized swiftly it wasn’t going to happen. The angle was all wrong due to Cassandra’s imprisonment. “My wrist I guess?”
“How much blood do you need me to drink?” Cassandra’s eyes were a bright red, but somehow still beautiful.
“Very little. A few drops. We just have to exchange blood,” Aimee answered nervously.
Her red lips parting into a grin, Cassandra gave her a jaunty look. “Okay, then let’s start with mine.” She dragged her tongue over her sharp fangs slowly, slicing it. A drop of blood instantly welled on its surface. Sticking out her tongue, a droplet dangled tantalizingly from the tip.
Aimee quickly unstopped the vial and held it up to catch three precious drops in it. As each one mixed with the liquid, the spell grew stronger, beginning to glow a soft lavender haze. The witch carefully replaced the top before shaking the vial, mixing the contents completely. The white glow made her laugh with delight. “It’s working!”
“So you drink that and see if the spell works, right?”