That made me feel a whole lot better, and I slumped where I stood.

“Maybe they were just friends, like your mom said,” Nick offered.

“And maybe Trent’s father tried to blackmail my dad into something illegal and died because he wouldn’t do it.” At least he had taken Trent’s dad with him.

Nick stretched his long arm out to snag the photo still on the counter where I had dropped it. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice soft as he gazed at it. “They look like friends to me.”

I wiped my hands off on my jeans and leaned to take the picture. My eyes crinkled as I scanned my dad’s face. Sealing my emotions away, I handed it back. “I didn’t get well because of herbal remedies and spells. I’ve been tampered with.”

It was the first time I had said it aloud, and my stomach tightened. “But you’re alive,” he offered.

I turned away and measured six cups of springwater. The tinkling as it ran into my largest copper spell pot sounded loud. “What if it got out?” I asked, unable to look at him. “They’d pack me up and put me away on some frozen island like I was a leper, afraid whatever he did to me might mutate into something and start another plague.”

“Oh, Rachel…” Nick slipped from his stool. Anxious, I busied myself needlessly drying the measuring cup. He came up behind me, giving me a backward hug before turning me around to face him. “You’re not a plague waiting to happen,” he cajoled, meeting my eyes. “If Trent’s father cured your blood disease, then he did. But it was just that. He fixed it. Nothing’s going to happen. See? I’m still here.” He smiled. “Alive and everything.”

I sniffed, not liking that it bothered me so much. “I don’t want to owe him anything.”

“You don’t. This was between your father and Trent’s, and that’s assuming it even happened.” His hands were warm around my waist. My feet were between his, and I laced my fingers behind his back and balanced my weight against his own. “Just because your dad and Trent’s father knew each other, it doesn’t mean anything,” he said.

Right, I thought sarcastically. We let go of each other at the same time, stepping reluctantly away. While Nick stuck his head in the pantry, I checked over my recipe for the transfer medium. The text I had for binding a familiar was in Latin, but I knew the scientific names of the plants enough to follow it. I was hoping Nick would help with the incantation.