Witching Hour: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 7

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Witching Hour: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 7 Page 12

by Yasmine Galenorn


  Here, Jordan’s life could depend on it.

  He paused, then nodded. “I promise.”

  “Llew, you need to promise me the same thing. You may want to help Jordan at some point, but I need you to look to me for permission.”

  Llew glanced at Jordan, who inclined his head. “Yeah, I promise.”

  “All right. Time to get this show on the road. Both of you, stand right where you are and don’t move. If you need to take a piss, do so now. There’s a tall stand of bushes you can go behind. Because once we start, nobody’s stepping out of this Circle. Got it?”

  Llew looked at Jordan, then took off for the weeds. Jordan remained where he was. When Llew returned, I positioned them where I wanted them, and then hesitantly approached my car. I unloaded the back seat first and set up sage sticks, burning like torches, on the five points of where I planned to draw the pentagram. Then I got the salt ready. From my bag, I retrieved Ekso water—a form of holy water that came over from sacred wells in the UK, the ones originally dedicated to Cerridwen. I also hauled a large bronze cauldron out of the back of my car. It was heavy, but I was strong, and I hefted it over to the lot, placing it in the center, along with a torch that was ready to light.

  I set the War Water next to the cauldron, along with a small bucket. Next, I stirred together the sea salt, the peppercorns, tobacco, and dragon’s blood, and poured it into a sack.

  As I withdrew my ritual dagger from my bag, the bog oak reverberated in my hand. Finally, I retrieved the last spare skull I had and set it in front of the cauldron. Standing back, I ran through a mental checklist.

  “Everything’s ready. I’m going to get Chucky’s sister. When I open the trunk, again, if something happens to me, get the fuck back to your car and race, do not walk, to the Wild Hunt Agency. Got it?”

  “You think the doll got loose and is waiting for you?” Jordan asked, paling.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I hope not. There’s only one way to find out.”

  Taking a deep breath, I headed over to my car. With one more look back at the ritual setup, I clicked the key fob and the trunk beeped, then opened.

  I stood ready, dagger in hand. As the lid of the trunk rose, I steeled myself for a fight. I swept my gaze around, but there was only the iron box, and it was still locked. I reached out and the box began to rattle and shake.

  Letting out a sigh of relief—the demon was still locked away—I slid on my iron-proof gloves and lifted the case out of the trunk, slamming the lid closed behind me. Then, carrying the box—which shook and shifted in my grasp—I headed back to the ritual area.

  I could feel the Underling trying to reach into my mind, and I slammed up my strongest shields, barring the path. “No you don’t, you little freakshow. You’re not getting your claws in me.” I hurried back to the ritual area and set the box inside the cauldron. Immediately, I grabbed the salt mixture and began to sprinkle it in a circle, deosil—clockwise—around us.

  Spirits of salt, spirits of strength, bring forth your power,

  Spirits of protection, bind the gate, erect now the tower.

  Spirit of Arawn, Lord of the Dead, enter my veins,

  Grant me the threads, weave now a skein.

  Tangle the force, bar now the door,

  Leave the Circle unbroken, until I implore.

  Finishing the first Circle, I picked up my dagger, and began drawing the second Circle.

  Spirits of Earth, spirits of the north, ground now the power within.

  Spirits of Air, spirits of the east, sweep through and remove the unclean.

  Spirits of Flame, spirits of the south, burn away the cords that bind.

  Spirits of Water, spirits of the west, cleanse and clear both body and mind.

  I sheathed my dagger, then lifted up the skull and, starting in the north, began to circle deosil again, hold it up over my head with both hands.

  “Blessed Arawn, Lord of the Dead, hear me and answer. From the depths of your icy realm, reach out and infuse my rites with your power. Strengthen me, strengthen my magic, lead us into your shadowed realm and then safely out again. Lord of the Dead, be with me. So Mote It Be.”

  I had gone half circle, and I paused, then took another breath and began the final walk.

  “Blessed Cerridwen, Lady of the Cauldron of Rebirth, Ancient Mother who guards those passing through the Veil. Goddess of the Harvest, Crone Mother who guards the road to the Underworld, hear me and answer. Strengthen me, strengthen my magic, strengthen my power. Lady of the Cauldron, be with me. So Mote It Be.”

  As I finished walking the Circle, I lowered the skull. It was glowing with a faint purple aura—the color of the world of Arawn. The color of the dead. While I was dealing with an Underling, my magic worked on demons and other creatures of the shadowed realms as well.

  I placed the skull back in front of the cauldron. Inside, the iron box rattled and thumped, rocking against the sides of the cauldron as if trying to tip it over. I shook my head, staring at it. I’d have to open it to perform the rite, but I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Glancing at Llew and Jordan, I said, “Are you ready for this?”

  Jordan met my gaze. “We’ll do whatever you tell us.”

  “All right. The Circle should be strong enough to keep the Underling trapped while I deal with it, but you do know, we’re all in danger here? I’m pretty certain I can keep control of it, but…I can’t give you a guarantee.” It was only fair to drive home the potential for mayhem.

  “We are.” Jordan let out a long breath. “I’ve waited all my life to see that doll destroyed. When my cousin Karl sent it to me, I realized that it was time. Once the activity started up, I knew that we had to do something, regardless of what happens.”

  “Let’s get this show on the road and put this thing to rest for good.”

  I turned to the cauldron and picked up the War Water. Llew had four bottles, and I emptied them all into the bucket.

  “Stay where you are until I tell you to move. Run if something happens to me and don’t look back.” Without waiting for them to respond, I leaned down and unlocked the chest, quickly flipping open the lid and darting back to grab up the bucket of War Water.

  Inside the Cauldron, the doll let out an unholy shriek, and it began to rise out of the box, hovering in the air as it turned to me. A dark mist surrounded it, tendrils reaching out toward Jordan and Llewellyn.

  “I command thee to halt!” I lifted the bucket of War Water. “Underling, Creature of Cythrawl’s realm, I challenge you, I rebuke you, I expel you from this doll, from this plane, and from this world. I bind you to my will and bury you with my power!”

  As I splashed the War Water across the doll, Jordan gasped out, “Jenni!”

  The doll fell to the ground, and in its place hovered the image of a teenaged girl. She turned to Jordan, hands out, pleading.

  “Jordan, help me, she’s going to kill me. Save me. Save me. Save my doll!”

  She sounded so heartbreakingly real and frightened that I could feel the shift in Jordan’s demeanor from where I stood, even though I wasn’t looking at him.

  “Llew, stop him! Hold him back!” I grabbed up the torch and conjured a spark on my fingertips, sending it to light the flame.

  “No, let me go! Let me go to her!”

  I could hear Jordan behind me as he struggled with Llew. I held up the torch that was burning a brilliant flare into the night, and shoved it into the heart of the entity claiming to be Jordan’s sister.

  “I command thee to leave. I command thee to flee. I command thee by the powers of Arawn and Cerridwen, fly back to your realm of Chaos, Underling, and visit this plane no more. I hold the reins of power, for I am the Daughter of Bones, Chosen of Arawn, Daughter of the Dead, Daughter of the Mists, Daughter who walks through the valley of death, and all spirits must attend me!”

  As the power of Arawn and Cerridwen rolled through my veins, the Underling turned its attention to me. With a shriek, it came at me, swoopin
g like a hawk hunting a rabbit. I brought the torch up to meet it, channeling the primal source of the fire, and the flames flared with a brilliant purple nimbus. I forced all of my will against the demon as it slammed against me, unable to break through my shields.

  When the Underling realized it couldn’t possess me, it took a long swipe at me, its nails dragging down the side of my cheek, raising four lines of blood from the scratches it left. I didn’t flinch. I was focused solely on the need to dispel the shadow. Once again, I brought the torch through it, intensifying the fire.

  The cleansing flames leapt ten feet in the air, spiraling around the Underling. The demon tried to get away, but I sent the flames spinning in a vortex to spiral around it. A moment later, there was a long shriek as the Underling vanished through a dark, murky hole that opened in the air. I quickly planted the torch in the ground next to me and grabbed up my Ekso water, splashing it over the doll, over the iron chest, over Jordan and Llewellyn and myself. Then I splashed the last of it toward the portal. The cleansing powers of Cerridwen’s holy water began to calm the energy, sealing closed the opening through which I had cast the Underling.

  I froze, sending out my sensors to see if there was any residue left, but every bit of the energy that had surrounded and possessed the doll seemed to be gone.

  Another moment and I knew that the demon was gone.

  “Smash the doll, Jordan. You have to be the one to do it. Once an object has been possessed, it will carry a trace energy that can attract other spirits. Smash it to bits.”

  Jordan, still crying, stumbled forward. “My sister—”

  “That wasn’t your sister. Jenni’s long moved on. That was the Underling trying to trick you.”

  “Ah…” he said, picking up the iron chest. He lifted it over his head and brought it down hard, shattering the porcelain doll into a thousand pieces. Then he fell on the ground beside it, staring at the pieces, crying.

  “It’s over,” I said as Llew knelt beside him, cradling him in his arms. “The demon can’t hurt anybody ever again. I banished it for good.”

  As I spoke, the storm broke loose as the skies cracked and it began to pour, drenching everyone and everything. I stared up, letting the drops wash my face as I cleared my head and breathed in the scent of the rain-soaked autumn.

  Chapter Nine

  By the time Llewellyn and Jordan helped me lug everything back to my car, we were all soaked to the skin. I didn’t feel like going out to dinner. I was wet and cold, and still mildly hung over, and all I wanted to do was go home and take a hot shower and rest for a while before hitting the cemetery at midnight to help Frank.

  “Can I take a rain check on dinner?” I shivered, my jacket soaked through. I owned another jacket that would have kept me toasty warm, but I hadn’t thought to bring it. “I’m pretty wiped from the ritual.”

  “Of course. Is there anything we should do at home? Or in the apothecary? Any residual energy we should clear out?” Llewellyn asked.

  I thought about it. “You might want to do a thorough cleansing and smudging of all rooms that doll has ever been in. Probably the whole house and shop. But I effectively sealed it back into its realm, so the Underling shouldn’t return. We broke the anchor, and usually once an anchor is broken, the demons vacate the premises.”

  “We’ll get on that as soon as we get back to the shop. I don’t know how to thank you. Dinner doesn’t seem enough, especially a rain check for dinner.” Jordan met my eyes. “I’m sorry I reacted like I did. When I saw Jenni there —” he paused, ducking his head and staring at the ground as he scuffed his foot in the mud. “I don’t know why, but I’ve always felt like it was my fault that she died. I knew the doll had something to do with it, but you know how kids are.”

  “I understand. But it wasn’t your fault. And it wasn’t the doll itself. It was the Underling. Do you know how old the doll was?”

  He frowned, pursing his lips. “Now that I think about it, I believe our grandma owned that doll when she was little. So it was an antique. Not many dolls are made from porcelain now.”

  I nodded. “Then the Underling probably inhabited that doll before your grandmother gave it to Jenni. You might ask your grandmother, if she’s still living, if she remembers anything about it.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Grandma was always particular about things, and if she found out that she had given a possessed doll to my sister, I think it might push her over the edge. She’d never forgive herself.”

  Jordan turned to Llew. “Are you ready to go home?”

  “Let’s stop at the shop first and take care of the cleansing there. That shouldn’t take long because it’s already warded. I’m surprised that the doll was actually able to make it through the barriers. But then again, I wasn’t expecting to be facing a demon. I suppose that’s my call to strengthen them while I’m at it.” Llew turned to me. “Again, thank you. And if we can ever help you in any way, let us know. Free spell components, as long as it’s not diamond dust or something like that, for a year. How’s that sound?”

  I laughed. “That sounds good. And don’t worry, I won’t take too much advantage of you. You guys have a good evening. I’ll see you later.” I made sure that they had the iron case that the doll had been in. It needed a thorough cleansing, but what energy was left was merely residue. Like dried mud after a heavy rain.

  I drove back to my house, grateful to be done with the whole mess. I hadn’t expected to be facing a demon, either. The Underling had shaken me, although I was grateful that I had been able to exorcise it. But I felt drained, and in need of some downtime. At least with Frank, I had his permission to move him along. That would make tonight easier, or at least I hoped it would.

  After my shower, I set about making a thick corn chowder. I fried up bacon and onions, dicing them into bits first so they would cook faster. As the Yukon gold potatoes boiled, I made a roux and then whisked half-and-half into it. I added some chopped parsley, a hint of garlic, a couple chicken bouillon cubes, and a cup of sweet corn.

  I brought it to a simmer, then poured it into the blender and carefully blended it, being careful not to splash myself with the hot liquid. Then I added in the bacon and onions, another cup of sweet corn, and the drained, diced potatoes. I slipped a baguette into the oven, sliced in half and spread with a thick mixture of butter and Parmesan. By the time dinner was ready, I was starving, and I carried my bowl and plate of bread to the table.

  I called Raj into the kitchen. “What do you want for dinner? I don’t think you’re going to like my soup.”

  Raj cocked his head to the side, his eyes glowing. “Cat food? Raj likes cat food.”

  I laughed. “All right. You can have cat food.” Although Raj usually ate with me, now and then he liked cat food or dog food for a treat. I emptied a large can of chicken-flavored cat food into a dish, adding a cup of dry kibble to it. “Remember, before you lick my face, go wash out your mouth. I don’t like cat food breath.” I sat the food down for him near the table so we could eat together, and slid back into my chair. Raj stared at me for a moment, then said, “Raven had a bad day, didn’t she?”

  I let out a soft sigh, looking down at him. “Raj is right. Raven had a hard day, actually. Raven’s tired, but her day’s not done yet.”

  “Raj help?” He was eyeing his food, and I could tell he was hungry, but he seemed to feel he needed to comfort me.

  I shook my head. “Raj helped Raven just by asking. You eat your dinner, Raj, and I’ll eat mine. Then maybe we can curl up together on the sofa for an hour or two. My day isn’t done yet, but I’ve got some time to cuddle.”

  Raj nodded. Then, before turning to his food, he said, “Raj misses Ulstair.”

  I leaned down and gently stroked his head. “So does Raven, Raj. Very much. But we’ve got each other, and that’s a wonderful thing.”

  As Raj fell to his dinner, I turned to mine. The food was hot and comforting. And yet, even with Raj beside me, the house felt oddly
empty. Trying to push away the feeling, I focused on dinner, then brought out my phone. I brought up my e-book app, and returned to the book I was reading, determined to lose myself in a world of laughter and mystery.

  An hour later, I had finished half of the soup, and all of the bread. I poured the rest of the soup into a container for Monday’s lunch, and realized that I felt much better. The quiet time reading, and the comfort food, had done a lot for my mood. Cordial glass of port in hand, along with a piece of dark chocolate, I curled up with Raj on the sofa, watching the Food Channel’s Halloween Baking Contest.

  One of the contestants was working on a haunted gingerbread house.

  “That looks like fun, doesn’t it? Does Raj think Raven could make one of those?”

  Raj blinked, staring at the screen. He looked at me, then back at the screen. “Raven makes good cookies.”

  I stared at him and he looked away.

  “You really don’t think I could make one of those, do you?”

  “Raven makes good cakes.” Raj paused, then added, “Raj has seen Raven try to build a bookshelf.” He turned back to the TV, studiously ignoring me.

  I laughed, almost snorting my port out my nose. “Yeah, you may have a point.”

  The last time I had tried to build something, it’d ended up in the junk pile while I made a trip to the furniture shop. I sighed, glancing at the clock. I was wiped out after the encounter with the Underling, and felt like I was about to slip into a food coma, but it was only nine p.m. and I still had three hours before I had to start the spell to free Frank. I pulled out my phone and set the alarm for 11:00.

  “Raven is going to take a nap, Raj. Did you want to go outside before I fall asleep?”

  Raj nodded. “Raj bored with TV.”

  I opened the door so he could run out. “You know I have to put you on the chain, right?”

  Raj had a habit of chasing after anything that looked interesting enough to catch his attention. He let out a hefty sigh, but nodded. I fastened the chain to his collar, and patted him on the head. It was still raining, but his shelter was warm and snug inside, and if he needed in, the chain reached the door. He could just scratch at the door or ring the bell if he remembered it was there. Raj could be a little absentminded.

 

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