Chapter 186: Spilling Blood
For a moment, Jacques aura flared becoming even more prickly than it had been when he danced with Ashlynn. As soon as that aura approached Ashlynn, however, it melted like snow in the summer sun, unable to harm her in the slightest.
It wasn’t that she was immune to his magic, if Jacques wanted to harm her, it was easily possible. It was just that his desire to protect her was far greater than his irritation at her demand and that desire to protect wouldn’t lose out to a momentary fit of pique.
"I hear what you sayin’, ma petite," the reptilian witch said, his scaled brow furrowing as he looked at the glass in her hand. "But a witch’s blood, dat’s powerful stuff to be spilling in a place like these before people like your Mistress. I’ll give three drops to de ground for hurtin’ your friend. But dat glass you’re holdin’," he said, his voice dropping low and dark. "Dat’s meant for wine, not what you’re askin’."
"As you said," Ashlynn said, extending the glass toward Jacques. "A witch’s blood is powerful. It shouldn’t be wasted on the floor when it can serve a greater purpose. Do this for me," she said, stepping forward and placing a hand on his broad, muscular chest. "Put as much trust in me as I put in you on the dance floor."
Around them, everyone stilled, watching to see what the famed Sandbox Witch would do when confronted so directly. Several thought that this Seneschal was leaning heavily on the power of the Blood Princess to force the witch into compliance while others wondered if she really was the future Mother of Trees. If that was the case.... Would any lesser witch dare to refuse her?
At the side, High Lady Erna’s unblinking eyes took it all in, briefly meeting Nyrielle’s gaze to see what her own teacher thought of things. Seeing the small proud smile tugging at the corner of the vampire’s lips, Erna sat back herself, waiting to see the show unfold.
If there was no need for her to intervene then it was best that she not make a move. Besides, even she was interested in seeing if Ashlynn could make this proud, arrogant witch from the Ancient Clan back down.
"You don’t leave me much choice," Jacques said, his heavy tail twitching in agitation. "Maybe I was wrong to call you ma petite. You got somethin’ of de acorn in you, Child of de Earth. So much promise wrapped up in such a hard shell, and just as bitter when you bite down."
Smoothly taking the champagne flute from Ashlyn, he raised the palm of his left hand to his mouth and bit down decisively, piercing his thickly scaled skin before dripping three drops of blood into the glass.
"Blood as sap. Strength of bark. Staunch and slow, heal and grow," Jacques muttered softly, making a fist with his bleeding hand as soon as he’d finished dripping into the glass. Instantly, a dark, grayish-green light enveloped his hand as the blood seemed to melt back into his flesh and the wound closed up like it had never been there.
"I’m putting my trust in you, cher," he said, holding out the glass.