by Michele Hauf
Certainly hissed. “What in all of Beneath kind of spell requires such water? Don’t you know that stuff is volatile when mixed with the light sort of witchcraft?”
Valor exchanged gazes with Kelyn. He sensed her sudden anxiety. And also that she hadn’t a clue what Certainly was talking about. “Why would the spell require such an ingredient if it doesn’t work?” he asked.
“Oh, it’ll work. But in the hands of a light witch, it could produce a catastrophic effect, as well.” Certainly opened the door and turned to them. “Let’s check this out. I’ve the Book of All Spells inside. If you’re going to steal from me, I want to make sure you don’t end up blowing away half the population in the process of invoking the spell.”
* * *
The storage room dedicated to witches was three stories beneath the surface of Paris, and it was a marvel. Valor followed Certainly into the room, and when he said she could look but not touch, she took that to heart and started down the first aisle, forgetting that she’d left Kelyn at the door. The air was dark and heavy with dust, and there were shelves upon shelves of books and compendiums and grimoires. It reminded her of some kind of fantasy library, in which anything on the shelves might get up and dance as soon as she turned out the lights and closed the door. Of course the lights were oil lamps. CJ had explained electric lighting was iffy with this much magic in storage.
“Don’t go that far!” CJ called as Valor neared the dark end of the first aisle.
Ahead of her, the walls appeared black, and yet when Valor squinted she saw into the depths. The book spines were black and...things seemed to be moving. Vines? Or were those tentacles? Did she smell sulfur?
Compelled to take a step forward, she startled when someone gently grabbed her arm. Kelyn leaned in and said at her ear, “You should listen to the dark witch who can take us out with a flick of his tattooed fingers, yes?”
“Yeah, but look.” She gestured toward what might have been pinpoint red eyes peeping out from between two books.
“This way.” Kelyn tugged her back the way she’d come. “There’s a wall of herbs and other nasty things like bones and rat skulls I’m sure you’ll be interested in.”
“Really?” She turned and passed him, veering toward a dully lit corner where the ceiling grew thick with ancient herbs, some hung and dried, others growing in kokedama Japanese moss balls or delicate hydroponic glass balls. Her witchy senses were drawn toward the scent of dragon’s blood and she touched the long, narrow vial that glittered with violet substance.
“I said don’t touch!”
She waggled her head at CJ’s admonishment as Tamatha joined her side. The witch was glamorous, yet seemed more down-to-earth than even Valor’s best friend Eryss, and Eryss was an earth witch.
“It’s like being a kid in a candy store, isn’t it?” Tamatha whispered.
“Oh, yeah. What’s that?” Valor almost touched a vial in which something phosphorescent blue wiggled inside red liquid.
“Dragon parasite. Excellent for stanching fire spells. And did you see the gargoyle’s eyes?”
Valor studied a jar of stone eyeballs that pulsed with red veins. “Nice.”
“Oh, this is not good.”
At Certainly’s dire utterance, both women lifted their heads. Tamatha gestured for them to join the dark witch, and they walked over to stand beside him and Kelyn. The group perused the massive Book of All Spells, which was, when spread open, about six feet wide and four feet tall, and stuffed with tissue-thin pages. Yet the page it was open to seemed alive as the illustrations danced, and Valor even picked up cinnamon and some darker earthy scents from its content.
“Water from Lake Hillier reacts to light magic unless it is blessed by a dark witch,” CJ recited as he read the page. “And you’ve got all five ingredients? The claw, water, kiss, skull dust and tear?”
“Heading home tomorrow to check on the tear,” Valor confirmed. “I’m sure I have it in stock. But if the water merely needs to be blessed by a dark witch...?” She gave him a hopeful grin and exchanged nods with Kelyn, who stood at one corner of the book with his arms crossed.
“Where do you intend to perform this spell?” Certainly asked.
Valor shrugged. “Probably at home in my spell room. Why?”
“That’s not what is required.” He tapped the page. “Didn’t you read it all the way through?”
Valor leaned over the book and scanned through the ingredient list and the basic incantation, both of which she was familiar with. And yet it went on to describe summoning location and conditions. And there was even a warning about the lake water that was new to her.
“That information wasn’t in my grimoire,” she said.
“You must have an abridged edition.”
“No. It was once my great-grandmother Hector’s grimoire. She passed it down to me. It’s original. Sometimes I can even smell her perfume in the pages. Everything was handwritten.”
“Not according to this.” CJ tapped the page. “This book is the master book of all spells ever created. The moment a new spell is written, spoken and/or chanted, it is recorded here. Your great-grandmother must have removed some pages from her grimoire. It’s the only explanation for your missing information.”
“Now that you mention it, there are a few places where I’ve wondered if a page was torn out. Well, can I get a copy of the spell from this book?” Valor asked.
CJ stood straight and eyed her with the darkest jade eyes she had ever seen. No compassion in them, and yet she could feel a certain softness emanate from him, as if he wanted to be kind, to assist her. Surely if she told him about Kelyn’s desire to get his wings back, the witch would sympathize.
“Please,” Kelyn said. “We wouldn’t ask unless it meant more than life itself.”
And all in the room felt Kelyn’s heartfelt desire to be whole once again. He didn’t even have to explain.
“Of course,” CJ said. “You’ve already stolen the skull dust.” He shot a condemning look at Tamatha. “Not like we can actually put that back, is it? I’ll have a copy of this spell made. Tamatha, can you get the handheld scanner?”
“You mean you can’t magic a copy into her hand?” Kelyn asked.
“I am not a Xerox machine,” Certainly commented, and followed with a heavy sigh. “As for performing the spell at your home, Valor, it’ll never work. It has to be at the place in which you wish the portal to open. In a thin place.”
“Like the Darkwood,” Kelyn offered hopefully.
“Exactly,” CJ agreed.
And Valor cringed to imagine returning to the forest where it had all begun. Was she even allowed back in? Would the wicked trees pin her once again? It was too risky. And it would dredge up so many awful memories of her dreadful beginning with Kelyn. They’d only just engaged in something wonderful. Why ruin that with something bad?
She met her lover’s gaze across the massive book. His violet eyes twinkled, yet he didn’t quite smile. He was trying to read her and had probably seen her reluctance, so she pulled on a smile.
“Sure,” she said. “The Darkwood it is.”
“Great,” CJ said. “You have the lake water that requires blessing on you?”
“It’s at Kambriel’s apartment on the island.”
“Bring it to me and I will bless it. I was on my way home, actually, when I had a feeling there was a reason I needed to return to work.” Again, he cast a condemning gaze at all three of them with the ease of dealing out cards.
“Tamatha said you were watching the kids?” Valor said.
“Vika got home from work early. Now, I’ll give you my address, and you’ll come to me if you want this done.”
“Of course.” She tugged out her cell phone, scrolled to Contacts and handed CJ the phone to enter his info.
Tamatha returned
with a scanning wand, and in but a minute the spell had been scanned and digitally sent to Valor’s phone. She verified she’d received the complete file, then shook CJ’s hand. “I owe you for this.”
“Of course you do. We’ll meet again someday. And when you do get back your wings?” He turned to Kelyn. “Be cautious. If someone else has been wearing them, they will be tainted.”
“So I’ve been told. I will be careful. Thank you, Monsieur Jones. We both appreciate everything you’ve done for us, and I am at your beckon, as well. Whenever you need it, let me know.”
“I consider myself richer for the friendships I’ve gained today. Now, out with you.” CJ gestured for them to leave and bent over the massive spell book. “I’ll be home in a few hours.”
Once outside and in the cobblestone alleyway, Kelyn pulled Valor into an embrace and kissed her there against the brick wall in the darkening midafternoon shadows. Their kisses had become so easy, yet never simple. Each time his mouth fit against hers, Valor felt it in a different place. This one seemed to focus on her nipples, teasing them hard, so she rubbed them against his chest. His moans always spoke so much more than words. The man could kiss her anywhere he wanted. She might even let him kiss her in the back of a cab next time.
“You sure about having the fifth ingredient at home?”
Valor nodded. “Ninety-five percent sure. Should we go grab the water and head over to the dark witch’s home?”
“I’m curious to see a dark witch’s place. Let’s do it!”
* * *
The dark witch blew a haze of whiskey-tainted smoke over the opened vial of the Lake Hillier water. The vial briefly glowed pink before he capped it and handed it back to Valor.
“It’s done. Blessed,” Certainly said. “It shouldn’t prove an issue to work with it now. Unless the dark blessing is warded between now and when you perform the spell. If you’ve wards up on your home you should remove them before entering. And most certainly do not enter the thin place warded. Got it?”
“Thanks, CJ.” Valor handed Kelyn the vial, who tucked it in the backpack in which all their valuable finds were stored. “So, before we go, can I ask about the chandeliers?”
The dark witch sat back on the velvet sofa, stretching his arms over the back and tilting his head to take in the constellation of glass chandeliers that hung in the two-story open-space loft he and his lover, Vika, and their twin one-year-old sons, had commandeered in the seventh arrondissement of Paris. There must be hundreds, Valor thought. A few were actually lit, providing more than enough lighting.
“It’s a long story,” Certainly said. “But I once required prismatic light to keep away the demons that had infested my soul after a rather unwise venture into Daemonia. There are always consequences to using dark magic. But Vika still loves me.”
Vika was Viktorie Saint-Charles, a light witch who lived with CJ and who operated a cleaner operation with her sister, Libertie. Cleaners were available to do just that—clean up dead paranormal bodies best not left lying out for the public to stumble over.
“It’s beautiful,” Kelyn commented, hooking an arm over Valor’s shoulder and leaning in to nuzzle his nose at her hair.
The door opened and in breezed a red-haired witch wearing a long black Morticia gown and a bag of groceries.
“Vika, Queen of My Heart.” CJ rose to kiss his lover. “We’ve friends for a little whiskey and magic.” He glanced to Valor and Kelyn. “You two up for that?”
Kelyn exchanged looks with Valor, and his smile grew quickly. A challenge, if either of them had heard correctly.
“Oh, yeah,” they said together.
Chapter 19
“Will your boyfriend do it?”
Vika, the light witch who was currently mixing drinks for what had become a party of many, gave Valor a curious wink. She’d asked if Kelyn would donate a bit of faery dust for the drinks. Because with a little magic and dust she could make an out-of-this-world drink.
“Faery dust will get you high, but you won’t have a hangover,” she added. “I’ve only had it once before. CJ would love it.”
“He will if I ask him sweetly,” Valor said, because this was a fun challenge. And while she wasn’t into recreational drugs, what could a little faery dust hurt anyone? Wasn’t as if she were a vampire who could become addicted to the stuff. “What do you have in those drinks?”
The mason jars Vika used for drinking glasses sparkled under the many chandeliers lined above the kitchen area of the vast loft. The whole place was open with only a few walls for semiprivacy, such as the ones sectioning off the bedrooms and the one backing up Vika and CJ’s spell area. The twins had been tucked away in their cribs before Valor and Kelyn arrived, and Vika had checked on them briefly before gathering the drink supplies.
A boisterous redhead laughed over near the gray sofa where she and her boyfriend, a former angel/soul bringer, stood chatting with Kelyn. She was Vika’s sister, Libby, and her boyfriend was Reichardt. They had stopped in on the way home from a day at the park, and when they saw the party starting they had jumped right in. Valor secretly wondered if Reichardt could still produce angel dust. She was running low on that particular ingredient, thanks to her failed attempt at—argh. No, she wasn’t going to land on that depressing thought. Her love life was actually looking up. Dwelling on her flaws would never move her forward. Onward!
“Cherry juice, vodka, cardamom and salt,” Vika said as she mixed a shaker full of said ingredients. “Ice, of course, and a touch of dragon’s blood.”
“For a fiery taste,” Valor added.
“You know it. And now we need the secret ingredient.” The witch glanced through elegant kohl-lined green eyes over to Kelyn, who was laughing along with the others over Libby’s gyrations that detailed trying to actually fly a broomstick.
CJ’s brother, Thoroughly Jones—also called TJ—had arrived with his wife, Star, a cat shifter. The man was CJ’s twin, and together they put out some awesomely dark, sexy vibes that Valor hadn’t realized could attract her until she saw them in double. What had become of her preference for the big, beefy bad boys? The dark witches were bad personified. Some Lynyrd Skynyrd blasted, and one of the twin witches was currently drawing a chalk circle on the floor while explaining to the menfolk how to catch a war demon in three easy steps.
“Kelyn!” Valor gestured for him to come over. Nursing the whiskey CJ had poured him, he wandered toward them, barefoot. When had the man abandoned his footwear? Actually, all the men, save Reichardt, were barefoot.
She made a show of glancing at his feet, and Kelyn shrugged and offered, “The floor is heated. Can you feel it? It’s awesome.” He kissed her on the cheek. “What’s up? You ladies making drinks?”
Valor glided her palm up his chest and kissed him. “We are, and I have a big favor to ask. Sort of a fun one, actually.”
“Anything for you, lover.”
Valor tapped his chest and worked her best pouty lips with lash flutter on him. She’d once practiced before a mirror.
“You got something stuck in your eye?” he asked with concern.
“Seriously? I work my one and only sexy move on you and you think I’ve got a condition?”
He laughed. “Just teasing. What’s up?”
“Could we borrow a sprinkle of your dust? Vika says when added to the drinks it’ll get us high.”
“Is that so? And what about the faery in the room who doesn’t want to drink his own dust?”
“I have an angel dust elixir for you,” Vika said, pointing to the vial of iridescent liquid that sat next to a canning jar half-filled with a green drink.
“Angel dust, eh?” Kelyn shrugged. “I’ve never been much for alcohol.” He waggled the whiskey glass that could only be minus a few sips. “But I’ve been doing a lot of new things lately. I’m intrigued. I’
m in!” With a snap of his fingers, his dust sprinkled over the jars that Vika had been mixing, settling onto the surface with a glint.
Vika met Valor’s wink with her own. “Dust Bombs for all!”
An hour later everyone was dancing around the chalk circle drawn on the hardwood, in which stood a war demon, who also nursed one of the Dust Bombs. Built like a block with obscene muscles, the visitor from Daemonia had black skin with a distinctive sheen. His horns glowed crimson, and he couldn’t stop giggling.
TJ was currently arm wrestling with Kelyn, and Kelyn was holding his own simply because the dark witch, who had removed his shirt to expose tight muscles, was so high on the Dust Bombs he could barely see straight.
Libby was dancing with Valor, and every time she hip bumped her, Valor went flying into Star’s arms. The women laughed and Valor’s snorts always brought up Kelyn’s head in search of her. The room sparkled with dust, and yet Kelyn hadn’t imbibed any more of the whiskey. Vika had made him something special that contained pomegranate seeds and angel dust. His grin had grown unstoppable.
Certainly and Vika danced slowly before a window, and every so often he’d spin her and he’d put up his arms and shout, “Witch of My Heart!” Apparently the man had a thing for bestowing titles of affection upon his lover.
The arm wrestling match suddenly ended in a tie and the war demon challenged Kelyn with drunken taunts. “Come on, step inside the circle, my faery boy!”
As Kelyn wobbled toward the circle, CJ made a quick detour and shoved the faery away. Kelyn landed on the sofa, sprawled, his grin growing crooked. “Careful, faery. He’ll take you to Daemonia.”
“You’re no fun!” The war demon pouted, then tilted back his jar, which was empty. He lashed out a long black tongue, mining the bottom of the glass, but couldn’t get any more out. “Aggh! I want me some more faery dust!”
At that outburst, Kelyn shuddered and called out, “Leave the faery alone!” which then segued into drunken laughter.
This time a hip bump set Valor on a trajectory toward the sofa. Kelyn saw her coming and held out his arms to catch her—but she missed and landed on the opposite end. The faery hugged his empty arms across his chest. And Valor snorted out peals of laughter.
