Sweet & Bitter Magic Adrienne Tooley (best novels of all time .txt) 📖

“Focus,” the witch nudged gently, and Wren returned to the image of her father. His smile, his hair mottled with gray. His eyes.

What color were his eyes?

“Stop!” she shrieked, wrenching her arm out of the witch’s grasp. If the witch held on any longer, Wren feared she would lose the ability to picture her father’s face entirely.

The moment she broke contact, Tamsin’s expression changed, her smile slipping into a sneer. The soft, gentle person was gone, as if she had been a ghost. A mirage of a girl. It was as though that version of Tamsin had never existed at all.

“What now?” The witch’s voice was impatient, the rosy glow fading quickly from her cheeks.

“I couldn’t… I can’t remember what color his eyes are.”

Tamsin clucked her tongue. “That’s normal.” She waved off Wren’s frantic expression, turning away. “It’s not like you know what color my eyes are.”

“They’re brown,” Wren answered automatically. The witch turned back to face her, eyebrows raised, her brown eyes wide.

“So, what?” Wren demanded, trying to calm the panic buzzing in her brain. “You take my love, and I get… what?”

“My company.” Tamsin lifted her lips in the pretense of a smile. “I accompany you with the intention of seeking the dark witch and securing the Coven’s boon. Once the hunt is complete, either by our hand or another’s, you will give me the love you hold for your father. After that, we won’t ever have to see each other again.”

Wren swallowed thickly, her mouth dry. “Okay,” she said finally. “Where do I sign?”

Tamsin frowned. “Sign? You don’t sign anything.”

“What, so we’re just supposed to trust each other?” It was Wren’s turn to raise her eyebrows.

“Of course not.” Tamsin looked disgusted. “All pacts dealing in the future trade of love must be sealed with a kiss. The kiss serves as your promise.”

It was, perhaps, the last thing Wren had expected. She squirmed beneath the witch’s stare, a hundred emotions rushing through her head. She had shared one awkward, teeth-knocking kiss with Farmer Haddon’s eldest son, but she had never kissed a girl. She certainly hadn’t imagined it happening for the first time like this.

“Trust me,” Tamsin said, misinterpreting her hesitation. “I get no pleasure from this either.” She let out a little laugh, light and musical, like a flute. “Get it? Because of my curse?” She trailed off, frowning, as though surprised by herself. She gave Wren a searching look. “Your love was stronger than I thought.” Then Tamsin’s face darkened again, the corners of her lips slipping back into a small frown. “Don’t look so frightened; it’s just a quick peck. Surely you have kissed someone before?”

Wren’s curiosity at the witch’s changing moods quickly soured into resentment. She heaved a giant sigh, her expression dour. “Go on, then, let’s get this over wi—” But before she could finish her sentence, the witch stepped forward and silenced her with a kiss.

SEVEN

TAMSIN

Technically, Wren was a very good kisser. It was a shame that it sparked absolutely nothing in Tamsin—no butterflies, no warm glow, no fire burning deep and dark within.

She knew what she was supposed to feel, had felt those things before with Leya, their lips pressed together behind the stacks in the dustiest corner of the library next to the books with magic so ancient they practically snored.

There was a second—one single second where the tiny glimmer of love tried to slip out of her grasp—when Tamsin thought she felt a flutter in her stomach. But just as quickly as it struck, the feeling was gone. She pulled her lips away from Wren’s and sent a black ribbon winding around the girl’s pale throat.

Wren clawed at the magic, her voice high and breathy. “What’s happening?” the source shrieked. “What did you do?”

Tamsin merely stood still, letting the magic wrap a ribbon around her own neck and tie itself neatly into a bow. “It’s just a ribbon,” she said, blinking blankly at Wren’s outsize panic. “If you stop pawing at it, you’ll find that it hasn’t actually harmed you.” She swept her hair away to show Wren her own throat. “See? I have one too.” She tugged sharply on the end of the ribbon, but the knot didn’t budge. “It’s not going anywhere, so don’t waste your time trying.”

Wren shakily sucked in a small breath. “But… why?”

“Just in case.” Tamsin swept around the table, lifting a basket from the floor and hanging it on a peg by the door. “Should you choose to deny me my due, the ribbon will strangle you.” Her shoulders quirked up slightly, almost like a hiccup. It was a simple enough explanation. She thought she ought to take it slow with Wren. Despite being a source, she didn’t seem to be particularly versed in magic.

Wren did not take the news very well. She was breathing too quickly, air escaping her mouth in little gasps. A tiny bead of sweat dripped down her temple. “You’ve got one too,” she finally managed. There was accusation in her voice.

“Yes, well, it’s a pact,” Tamsin said flatly. She really thought it should be self-explanatory. “It took two of us to make it, which means it’s possible for either of us to break it.” She waved her hand unconcernedly. “Think of it as security. Don’t forget: I’m bound to you, too.”

“Oh, good,” Wren said darkly.

Tamsin closed her eyes as she exhaled her frustration. Wren was being quite dramatic. After all, the decision to hunt had been her idea. Tamsin hadn’t asked for any of this. This was not a game, not something to be taken lightly. Dark magic was out there, and if they could not find the witch responsible, it was impossible to tell what might happen, both to the world and to them.

The banging of a cupboard pulled Tamsin from her thoughts. Her muscles tensed, her body flooding with panic as she waited for the weight of her sister’s diary to