Good Little Witch

Part 6

"Theoretically, I suppose it would work," you say, absently stirring your tea as you sit at the desk, watching Angelo pace back and forth. "I mean, the transference of energy is universal, between all creatures. All the witch is doing while performing the spell is giving some of her life force and transferring it to one of the Mikaelsons. She's doubling the energy they have already, which is slowing down their aging significantly." There's a lot more to it that you're not explaining, but Angelo doesn't need to know all the secrets.

"So if possible, you could use someone else's life force for the spell and not your own."

"in theory, but I've never heard of it done that way. The ritual is pretty Hardcore."

Angelo can imagine.

"Why are you asking, anyway?" You ask, sipping your tea to see if it's cool enough, your bare feet propped on the edge of Angelo's desk like it's your own as you lounge in his throne; you kind of like how elegantly dramatic it is, and it sure as hell makes a statement.

"I was just curious."

"most people are curious about less complicated things."

"like you wanting to Google if people sneeze in their sleep?"

"I just wanted to know!"

"And what did you learn?"

"that people don't. We should be more prone to it because our nose closes up more or whatever but we don't because the neurons or something aren't sending signals to the brain to do it."

Angelo sighs.

You're so weird.

"Hey, knowledge is power, demon! What's demon in Italian?"

"Demone."

"Wow, so different. Dey-mon-ay." You attempt to say the word, but you've never had much luck at foreign languages, not unless they involved spell work.

Angelo chuckles at your attempt, leaning over the lift his slim phone off the desk as it rings. He sighs before answering it.

"What?"

"Can I come over?"

"since when do you ask?"

"since you have a scary witch who tried to kill me."

"That was your own fault, I warned you to stay away from her."

"I didn't know she was psycho! Yeesh. So can I come over?" Horror demands huffily. "I need your help."

"Why don't you ask Christopher? I don't have time for you, I'm in the middle of annihilating an entire bloodline."

"You do that every Saturday. And because he's off on one of his angry tangents again, where he's 'sick of us' and 'it's not his place to raise or watch over us'. Him and Father must have fought again."

Great.

Christopher does that every few centuries when one of his brothers pinches his last nerve, and it's usually months before he's calm enough to deal with.

"Fine."

"Great! I'll see you in a few minutes!'

Angelo frowns as he tosses his phone down, turning to you where you sip your tea, using his laptop like it's your own; he hopes you don't mess any of his documents up.

"Horror, the one whose throat you nearly ripped out, will be here soon. Avoid trying to kill him this time."

"Is maiming still an option?" You snort.