“Leaking magic? That’s why any attempt at a spell ends in catastrophe and my best skill is tarot?” My head spun. It was too much.
“It’s a working theory. I don’t have any real proof except the bind. I can feel it, like you have a second pulse. If I can sense it, Helene will, too, and she’ll capitalize on it.” Jared tapped the book again. “But we can fix that. There’s a spell here—.”
“I feel sick.” I scrambled out of the truck as my stomach rejected the water I’d guzzled down.
Jared was at my side in a flash, holding my hair back with one hand and rubbing the small of my back with the other as I retched on the side of the road. The fact that it was the most romantic moment of my life spoke volumes.
“It’s a lot to absorb. I’m sorry, really. I didn’t plan to hit you with this all at once.” Jared waited for the heaves to subside before he dropped the next bomb on me. “You should have come into your full seat of power on your sixteenth birthday. Right around the time all your problems started at home.”
“So that’s why you wanted a month. You were hoping to figure out what was wrong with my magic before Helene got her hands on me.” I used the hem of my jacket and wiped my mouth. “Can you see if there’s any gum in the glove box?”
“Gum?” Jared asked, puzzled.
“You’re a double agent. There’s a witch trying to kill me and suck the magic from my corpse. The same witch who has Prudence and killed my mother. It’s a lot to take in, Jared. I’d rather not do it with vomit breath.”
A girl has to have her priorities in a crisis situation.
“Fair enough.” With one last pat on the back he climbed into the truck and rummaged around while I braced myself on the side of the road and contemplated the state of my life. “No gum. Just a peppermint candy out of its wrapper.”
I took the mint, picked off the unknown fuzz stuck to its side, and popped it in my mouth. “I need to reevaluate my plan.”
“You mean the one where you hand yourself over to Helene? The one that ended in certain death?” Jared leaned against the side of the truck with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Yes, that one.” Stomach empty and legs stable, I deemed it safe to leave the road side and walked over to the truck.
Jared stepped in front of me. “How about letting me drive for a while?”
Something about the way he asked led me to believe he had a destination in mind. “Let me guess, you have a plan.”
“Sort of.” Jared winked and hauled himself up into the driver’s seat.
Goddess help me, I let Jared take the wheel and climbed into the passenger side. A broken witch, a practitioner of dark arts, and the grimoire that started it all.
What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter Ten
“This is it.” Jared pulled up alongside a dilapidated two-story stone home on the outskirts of Gaston City.
“This is what?” I asked, climbing out of the truck to stretch my legs after the forty-minute drive. “Condemned?”
The sun crested the horizon, highlighting the missing slate shingles and shutters hanging half off their hinges. Shrubs and vines overtook the front steps which were missing two boards. The gutters were supported only by the downspouts on either end, sagging away from the roof.
“The ancestral home.” With the grimoire tucked under his arm, Jared made his way to the porch.
“Oh, well, I love what your family’s done with the place. It’s... quaint. Very Addams Family.” My foot caught in the vines while trying to avoid falling through the broken steps. I landed on the porch with a thud after losing my fight with the foliage.
Jared looked down to see me sprawled out on the rotten porch boards and smiled before offering a hand up. “Not my family, Ellie.”
“Mine.” I brushed some of the dirt and grime from my jeans. “Of course it is.”
Years of neglect and weather damage rendered the lock on the front door useless. The wood splintered in two, leaving the doorknob in Jared’s hand while the rest swung open.
“Ladies first.” He made a sweeping gesture, motioning for me to lead the way.
“And they say chivalry is dead.” I crossed the threshold, swiping at spiderwebs as I made my way inside.
While rot and vines overtook the outside of the house, the interior remained intact. A thin layer of dust and cobwebs coated everything but the floorboards were solid and none of the stairs were missing. The first floor spilt off in three directions from the foyer. Straight ahead was a long hallway with two doors on the right side. Sliding doors revealed parlors on either side.
I veered left, drawn to a faded portrait of a woman with similar features to mine hung above the fireplace. The clothes and hairstyle dated her well beyond an age to be my mother but there was no denying our relation. The shape of her eyes, curve of her lips, and slight upturn at the tip of her nose were more than enough proof.
“You look like her.” Jared stopped to admire the painting as well.
“With the right corset and several hundred bobbypins we could pass for twins.” I reached for a small silver frame on the mantle and wiped the dust coating the glass.
Dressed for a sunny summer day in the late sixties, early seventies, the woman in that photo looked back at me with the same features. She was about the right age. I couldn’t help but wonder if the woman with the bright eyes and unsuspecting smile fell prey to Helene. Was she my mother?
“The James women have strong genes.” Jared placed a hand at the small of my back and nudged me toward the next room. “We don’t have a lot of time. Helene will know we’re here as soon as I start the spell.”
“If this works... I mean, if we make it out of this alive, I’d like to....” I didn’t bother to finish the sentence. It was too much to hope for a happy ending.
“No one is going to stop you from coming back here. All we have to do is survive the next six hours. And kill Helene.” Jared shrugged the subject of murder off like it was regular conversation around the dinner table.
“Simple as that, huh? Just kill the witch. No big deal.” I prayed I never became so indifferent to taking someone’s life.
Even if they did deserve it.
He held open the swinging door separating the parlor from the kitchen. “She broke the creed and defied the Goddess. Her magic is toxic and there’s no coming back from that. If I thought there was another way... but there isn’t. I’ve looked.”
“Why here?” I lingered in the parlor, sparing one last look at the portrait above the fireplace.
“It’s a seat of power. You have a connection to this place.” Jared chose to rephrase his words at my skeptical expression. “This house is connected to you. It doesn’t matter that you don’t remember it.”
“Okay, we’ll go with that. As for the rest, I’m a little sketchy on the details. You undo the spell blocking my magic. Helene shows up and what? We have some sort of magical showdown? How is this better than my plan?” I brushed past him into the kitchen.
“Unlike yours, my plan has a moderate chance for success.” Jared set the grimoire on a roughhewn wooden table in the center of the room. “I’d kill for a workspace like this.”
“Well, here’s your chance. Courtesy of Helene.” I feigned indifference but truth be told the kitchen was a witch’s dream.
An old cast iron cauldron hung from a rounded hearth. Glass jars filled the shelves in an open storeroom on the far-right side. Bowls and pots of varying sizes lined a shelf above the gas range and there was an island with a butcher block top in the center of the room. Herbs and flowers hung from the wood beams across the entire ceiling. Petals, crushed leaves, and other pieces of plant matter littered the floor like natural confetti from the critters that had taken up residence after the house had been abandoned.
“Sorry, poor choice of words.” Jared brushed the plant debris from the work table before setting the grimoire and his backpack down. “Let’s get started. Grab one of those bowls over there.”
> “Don’t we need like a cleansing ritual or something?” I asked as I stood on tiptoe, stretching to reach a clay bowl on the shelf. I freed two from their dusty prison but only one survived. I winced as the second bowl hit the floor and sent shards of pottery everywhere.
“Normally, yes, but we’re on a deadline. So we’re just going to have to get down and dirty.” Jared set a small sampling of his personal stock stored in plastic vials on the work surface.
“There’s more than one joke in there.” Pieces of broken bowl crunched under foot as I walked the few steps to the center island. “What’s the first step?”
He flipped to the required spell, tracing the lines of text with his index finger as he reviewed each step. “It says the witch must be laid bare. You need to take off your clothes.”
“What? Why? I can’t see how me being naked is going to make a difference.” I reached for the book, spinning it around so I could read the spell for myself. “It doesn’t say anything about taking my clothes off.”
Jared wore a devilish grin as he winked at me. “It was worth a shot.” He turned the book around to face him. “It just means you have to remove any charms or amulets. Take off anything that can interfere with the spell.”
“I sewed a couple gris-gris into the liner for protection.” I slipped out of my jacket and tossed it on the counter behind me. “Worked like a charm.” Not.
“If puns and bad taste could stop Helene, we’d be all set.” Jared found a mortar and pestle in usable condition, placed the different ingredients inside, and crushed them all together until a gummy paste was formed. After scraping two fingers around the inside of the marble mortar, he wadded the paste into a little cube. “I was going to brew this, sort of like a broth or a tea. Maybe you should just eat it.”
“Well, it looks delicious. The way you smushed it all up with your dirty hands. Yum. I cannot wait to try it.” I couldn’t keep a straight face, laughing as I plucked the magical gummy snack from his fingers and popped it in my mouth.
The combination of curry and pesto – two of my least favorite flavor profiles – kicked my gag reflex into high gear but I managed to choke it down. Out of reflex, I rushed to the faucet and turned on the water for a chaser. The pipes rattled and shook as the air in the lines forced a thick, muddy glop of water into the basin.
The well was dry.
“I guess it’s a good thing the spell didn’t require a liquid base. Do you feel anything yet?” Jared flipped to the next page in the grimoire.
“Besides sick?” I asked, swallowing back the saliva building in my mouth.
“Okay, so according to this, we just need to put you in a circle, candles at each direction... I’ll read the words.... Got it.” Jared fished a piece of chalk and four white tea lights from his bag.
“Aren’t those for scented wax burners?” I picked up one of the candles, straightening the wick.
“Tapered are preferred for ceremonial purposes but they don’t travel well. They break and then they’re not worth a shit. There’s a note scribble in the margin but I can’t make it out. Something about blood?” He pointed to the handwriting in the margin.
I took the book and went to the window where there was better light. “Does that say circle?”
“A circle of blood.” Jared peered over my shoulder. “Your blood.”
“This just gets better and better. I have a thumb-knife on my keyring.” I handed the book over to Jared and went for my keys.
“There’s an athame in my bag.” Jared kept a complete witch kit in his backpack. Of course he did.
Athame in my right hand, I sliced the blade across the palm of my left, pumped a fist to increase the blood flow, and walked a circle large enough for me to lay inside. Which was handy since I wanted to pass out afterward.
Jared took off his shirt and ripped one sleeve free. “I don’t have any gauze but this will help stem the bleeding.”
“Lying in a pool of my own blood wasn’t how I envisioned this going.” I positioned myself inside the circle like Davinci’s Vitruvian Man.
“Now you’re just being dramatic. It’s not a pool of blood. It’s barely half a pint.” He struck a match against the floor and lit the candles. “So, how did you envision it?”
“I don’t know, a wand? A little more bibidity-bobidity? A shower of sparkles.” I closed my eyes and tried to imagine a fairy godmother but the only person I saw was Pru.
“You wanted the fairytale version?” Jared sounded surprised, as if a girl like me wouldn’t believe in such silly things.
“It would be a nice change of pace.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “It would.”
I guess we all wanted our happily ever after – even a black arts dealer.
“Ready?” Jared asked, grimoire in hand.
“As I’ll ever be.”
That was all the confirmation he needed. He read the spell, increasing in speed and volume as he said the words over and over. Pressure mounted in the room with each repetition. The leaves and debris scattered over the floor hovered in the air. Bowls and pots rattled on the shelves. The entire house shook.
And that was just outside the circle.
Within it everything amplified. Searing pain arced through my bones. Pressure built behind my eyes and inside my ears until I feared something would rupture. Spine bowed, I levitated several feet off the floor as my limbs were pulled in the direction of the four different candles.
The energy pulled back like a rubber band stretched to the limits of its elasticity, shattering the windows as it expanded beyond the kitchen. When it couldn’t expand any further it snapped. The flow of energy reversed, crashing in on itself.
On me.
The world around me fell away in a flash of white light. All that remained was agony. All six senses were overrun. It became color, taste, smell, encompassing everything within view of the third eye. Time isn’t reliable, it’s relative. An hour of pleasure can feel like a minute. A minute of pain can feel like an eternity. I don’t know how much time passed. I only know the number of times I prayed to the Goddess it would end. She never answered. Whatever happened to me, whatever pain I experienced, was part of her plan.
It would have been nice if she’d let me in on it.
“Ellie, can you hear me?” Jared straddled my waist as he pushed three times in the center of my chest. He titled my head back and pinched my nose closed. When his lips found mine, I took advantage of the situation.
Desperate times and dry spells call for desperate measures.
A girl doesn’t come back from the brink of death only to possibly die again in a few hours without seizing the opportunity to kiss the hot guy – even if the hot guy is Jared.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss until I wasn’t the only in need of help breathing.
He broke the kiss and the intoxication of a near death experience. “I thought you were dead. Your heart stopped.” Desire was heavy in his eyes. He leaned in, lips brushing against mine before pulling back.
Almost dying can be an aphrodisiac. It can also be a wake-up call.
“I’m not dead yet.” I pushed myself out from underneath him and sat up, half in, half out of the circle. “I’m not going to do Helene’s work for her. If she wants me dead, she’ll have to kill me herself.”
“Someone came back from the grave full of piss and vinegar.” Jared gave me a little wink. “Good.”
“Well, you know what they say.” I kept it cool, grateful we made an unspoken agreement not to discuss the kiss. “What doesn’t kill you—.”
“Gives you a jaded sense of humor and high probability for a drinking problem.” Jared laughed but it held a bitter edge as if he spoke from experience.
“Not what I was going to say but highly accurate.” I looked around the kitchen at the collateral damage from Jared’s spell. “This place actually looks worse. I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Ready to test out your broom?”
He got to his feet and offered a hand up.
“The last time you asked if I was ready, you almost killed me.” I grabbed his hand, accepting his offer of help.
“The key word there being almost.” Jared slipped on his shirt before picking a few shards of glass from my hair. “Come on, we’ve got less than an hour left.”
“No pressure.” I said, and followed him through the old laundry room and out the back door into a sizeable yard edged with overgrown herb gardens.
No pressure. All that was left to do was stop Helene and rescue Prudence. No problem.
Accept for the part where I didn’t feel any different.
Chapter Eleven
“Let’s see, something difficult.” Jared thumbed through the pages of my family’s grimoire. “Conjuring, no. Manifestations, also no. Damn it, we don’t have the ingredients for any of these.”
A variety of herbs and plants with medicinal purposes grew in the gardens surrounding the backyard. I knew at least half by name thanks to the hours I spent with Hector tending the Harris’s gardens. Everything we needed for a multitude of spells was there for the taking but we couldn’t use any of it. What plants weren’t ravaged by insects and disease were choked out with weeds rendering all of it useless.
I could relate.
“Divination, too easy.” Jared muttered, still searching for the right spell to test my new skills.
“I beg to differ.” Nothing about divination came easy to me. My readings were fifty-fifty. Accurate enough for gas money but not enough to pay rent.
“Telepathy. That should work.” Jared held out the grimoire. “Here, this one doesn’t require anything but opening the third eye and tapping a ley line. Read it to yourself a few times to get the feel of it and then out loud. I want you to get inside my head.”
“Your mind is not a destination location. I’ve seen the relics you sell and what’s inside some of those jars in your workshop. The last place I want to be is inside your head.”
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