by Brea Viragh
Maybe it was pointless to hope they would find a spell to solve their problems. Potions were not her specialty. Neither was following an exact protocol for a spell.
Still, Aisanna concentrated on the pages until her eyes blurred. She might not be good at following a step by step procedure, but she was good at staying alive. Which was why she had to believe they would find a way to win.
She turned her attention to the margins and old drawings of ingredients. “Karsia? Are you seeing anything?”
“A few symbols look similar to what you have on your chest.” She pointed. “But none of them have the whole line.”
“Any kind of translation enchantment?”
“I’m looking, okay?”
“We need to find a spell to bring us the Harbinger witch. Forget about the script.” Astix had sat back down on the cushion, her eyes closed, her fingers touching on top of her knees. “There are more important things, like stopping whatever is going to happen before the big night.”
“What about the woman I saw in the mirror?” Aisanna murmured.
“Hold on. The what?”
She glanced up, meeting their widened eyes and knowing she’d let too much slip. Oh, snap. “Um…I mean—”
“You saw a woman in a mirror and you didn’t tell us?” Karsia reached out to smack the back of her head. “Any little bit helps, and you’re keeping shit to yourself? Not cool.”
“I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I simply thought there were more important things to focus on.”
“More important than what, Aisanna? Than stopping the goddamn day of reckoning? You two are so caught up in trying to find out who this thing was, you’re forgetting the most important part—how to stop her.”
“Um, guys? I think I found something.” Karsia sounded less than certain.
“Who was it, Aisanna?” Astix kept her voice low, her words angry.
“No one I recognized. I swear, I didn’t think it was relevant or I would—”
“Hey, that’s it! That’s it!” Karsia hovered closer.
And there it was. Their long-dead relatives’ ornate script of instructions for casting a spell translating any text into the language of the spell-caster.
Astix shot to her feet. “Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m in a joking mood?”
“All right, then. Grab the stuff for the spell. The athame and the sea salt. And let’s get to work.”
Karsia ran out of the room to retrieve the carved wooden box holding their ritual items—more paraphernalia passed down to them from ancestors. While not needed in a literal sense, they helped a witch or wizard focus their powers into a single stream of energy.
She was out of breath when she returned, her arms holding the box, and silver rings adorning each of her fingers. “You’re sure the gemstone protections will hold?”
“I’m sure.” Astix held out her hands for the box.
“I’m the one who should give out orders. I’m the oldest.” Aisanna bristled at the way her sister took charge. She hadn’t been the best at coming up with a plan, true, but she still wasn’t sure this was the right idea.
Astix rolled her eyes. “Grab the book.”
Aisanna could feel the simmer of power in the room when they got down to business. When they gathered the ingredients, placed charms around their necks, and readied themselves.
“Place the book in the center of the circle. We’ll use it as a focus with this crystal.” Astix took off her pendant and placed it next to the spell book in the middle of a ring of salt.
She respected her magic, the organized ritual. There hadn’t been much opportunity to practice over the years. She’d taken her banishment seriously and tried to stifle her magic to the best of her ability. Quash it under a façade of normalcy. Yet here she was with a ceremonial blade in her palm, preparing to work big magic, back in the house she’d been exiled from years ago. Life certainly took some odd turns.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
The three sisters held their hands out to their sides and cleared their minds.
When they spoke, their words were weighted. Waves of energy shimmered red and gold in the air in front of them. Aisanna threw in the last handful of herbs and held her breath. Waiting. In the depths of the spell, she saw figures. Like looking through water.
The words on her arm and chest burned, their outlines shining red and gold through the material of her clothing.
She saw a circle in the woods. Shadows bouncing off of trees. Eyes burning in the darkness and the light of a full moon pouring down. A fire. Flames licking at bodies, silent screams filling the night air. Monstrous shadows dancing and cavorting joyfully, as if the terror brought ecstasy for them even as it brought death to their victims. And as Aisanna was filled with horror to realize she recognized the people in the fire, a dark shadow darker than the others appeared, grew, enlarged until it blotted out everything, engulfing Aisanna in its torturous embrace.
And then suddenly it stopped. The image shattered like a fragmented mirror and a force struck the sisters like an out of control freight train of power, a full-body blow sweeping all three of them off their feet and sending them flying back away from the ritual circle.
Aisanna slammed against the wall of the solarium and a thousand stars burst to life in her head. Her eyes rolled back and she clawed at her throat. Choking.
She believed then. Believed pain and death were coming. For her. For everyone.
The spell dissipated with a snap, and at last she could breathe again. Aisanna drew in a hacking breath and clutched her throat and chest. The script on her arm flashed a final time, painfully, before she felt nothing.
“I’m out.” Karsia scrambled to her feet. Blood dripped steadily from a slice on her cheek. “You can continue whatever tomfuckery you’re doing, but this isn’t getting us anywhere. You know what we should really be focusing on, you assholes? Zee. We should be finding Zee.” She wiped at her eyes as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Damn. I didn’t want to cry.”
Astix crawled forward on her knees, with hair obscuring her face. “Did anyone…see anything? Hear anything?” she asked slowly. She worked her jaw to clear her ears.
“Not enough to go on.” There it was, her voice. At least she still had one. Aisanna breathed deeply a few more times before attempting to sit up. “I didn’t hear anything. The translation spell doesn’t work.”
Before she could finish the sentence, Astix slammed her hand down onto the tile with a scream. A shockwave rose from the contact and the after-effects shook the walls of the solarium. “This is bullshit!”
“I saw death,” Aisanna said with a cry. “Death, and fire, and it was my fault. It was my fault.”
“Nothing is your fault.” Karsia hurried over to wrap her arm around Aisanna’s hunched shoulders. “Something went wrong with the ingredients, that’s all. I knew the sage was too dry but I said we should use it anyway.”
“We need to get out of here. We need to go somewhere safe and buckle down.” Astix shook off the malaise and scrambled to her feet. “Get everyone, pack your bags, and let’s go. It’s not safe here anymore.”
Aisanna struggled to stand. “We can’t just run.”
“It’s not running,” Astix answered fiercely. “It’s survival while we pray to the goddess that we can find a way to stop The One Who Walks in Darkness. Because I don’t know what the rest of you saw, but I saw the end. Meet me tonight at my place and we’ll go.”
“I’m not running,” Aisanna insisted. “There’s a better way to do this.”
“You never listen, Aisanna.” Her façade of apathetic cool collapsed and she looked furious. “If you won’t run, then think of it as buying time. Because if you’re too wrapped up in whatever you’re doing with Elon to care about your own personal safety, I will do it for you.”
Astix strode out of the room, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve. Karsia spared a glance over her shoulder at Aisanna before following.
**
Monday night, Aisanna sat in the bathtub letting her skin prune with water nearly hot enough to melt the skin from her bones. Having a moment alone helped her mind and emotions calm. Not to mention soothe her swollen feet, her aching bones and joints… She was old before her time.
She glanced down and rubbed the spot on her wrist where the death rune had sapped the magic from her blood. She’d thought that was the worst she’d suffer during this time of upheaval, having a curse put on her and her family and managing to beat it, with a little help from her sister. Okay, a lot of help from her sister. Astix was the one who’d broken the curse.
Things were much worse now.
Her phone rang: Elon. She ignored it and slid her fingers along her arm until they connected with the script. Whatever they’d managed to do hours earlier, the burns were no longer burns. They’d darkened, sunk lower into her skin until the words became a tattoo. Written on her skin and soul while she waited to find out their meaning.
She stayed in the bath until the water turned cool, then changed into a fresh pair of pants and her most comfortable t-shirt, a carryover from her college years. Her mind ran in circles, like a snake eating its own tail. Their incantation had failed. All attempts to find a way to stop the thing hunting them had failed. She could really use a win.
Darkness had already made a play for Astix. Now it was coming for her. And every step they took forward was nothing but three steps backward in disguise.
Unbidden, her thoughts took a turn to something different although not necessarily pleasant.
Elon.
She should really give him a call back. She remembered the concern in his eyes before he’d fallen asleep, after watching her rise several times to check the window and make sure the shadows outside were normal. Not only concern, but patience while he dealt with her and her shit. It took a strong man to care so much. To keep coming back again and again when she told him no. No. No!
What was it about him, what made him tick? What set him apart from the rest of the herd? She would love to know.
He deserved more than a raise, she thought dreamily. He deserved a thank-you for finding her on the street and taking her into his home. For making love to her and caring about her experience along with his own.
Israel flicked to the forefront of her brain and Aisanna cringed. True, they had no real commitment to each other beyond casual sex. The distance between Israel and any real affection she might have felt lengthened until it spanned a continent. An ocean.
He was a better choice, though. He was a witch himself and understood the secrecy and caution that went along with having a gift. He was older, self-sufficient—as self-sufficient as one could get on Mommy and Daddy’s dime—and didn’t work for her. All good things, in her book.
Somehow the boundaries, the lines she’d associated with Elon had blurred, and she did not know when or how. The corners of her lips rose in a smile when she thought about him. Thought about the play of light on his hair that brought out the rich tones of dark chestnut. Bare shoulders tapered down to sculpted abs begging for her touch. The faintest dusting of hair shadowing the center of his pectoral muscles and trailing down toward his navel…
She got up for water when her heart began to hammer in time to the pulsing between her legs. Boy, she was in real trouble if just thinking about Elon brought on such a strong reaction. Strong and unwarranted. Inappropriate, she tried to tell herself.
She needed a drink. Bad.
When she’d lived at home, she’d shared a Jack-and-Jill style set-up with Karsia. During last year’s remodel, Karsia had wanted to go with an eclectic take on a fairy tale. At least that’s what she’d told the designer, who gave her something fit for a magazine spread instead.
Aisanna flipped the light switch and the chandelier tinkled on, showering the room with sparkled light. The hammered-copper sink added depth and color to the room.
Water filled the basin and she let it run until it warmed, then splashed some on her face. She scrubbed harder until her cheeks stung.
She had to find a way to adjust to her new circumstances, to find out what she could live with and what she couldn’t. Find out what mattered and what didn’t, and try not to be scared. Perspective didn’t come easy, but she had to try. Otherwise, what was the point?
She turned off the spigot and reached for the nearest towel, something fluffy and pink. Steam rose from the still-hot water to fog the lower half of the mirror. Aisanna set the towel aside and stared at her reflection.
Ugh, no, bad idea. What she saw there didn’t comfort her. She saw someone who was out of control. Astix was right. Aisanna was more concerned with men than with her personal safety. Even hours after the argument and the spell-gone-wrong, she was focusing on Elon.
What was wrong with her?
Then she saw a ripple under her cheek. She leaned closer, touching a particularly tender spot below her brow bone. As she watched, something moved beneath her skin like fingertips pressing out from the inside. Shades of grey and black twisted behind her eyes, and when she opened her mouth, the words coming out were not her own.
“You’re mine.”
Aisanna screamed, scrambling back and knocking into the towel warmer. It clattered to the floor and she fell on it, bashing her tailbone on the metal.
All a dream, she reprimanded. Get a grip.
When she pinched herself and registered the pain, she knew she was awake. Then her phone rang, jolting her into the present. She stared down at the cell lying on the counter. This time it was Israel, and it wasn’t the first time he’d called. There were three missed calls from him.
What the hell?
Aisanna reached for the screen and used her thumb to answer. “H-hello?”
“Babe? It’s me.”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I can read the caller ID. What’s going on? It’s almost seven o’clock.”
“Babe.” The single syllable was said with finesse. A smooth–rough finesse that used to go straight to her core. Now, she just wished he’d get to the point.
“Yes, what?” she asked.
“I was walking past your store and realized I have something to give you. A present.”
“What…a present?”
“Yeah. How ’bout you come down here and meet me?”
“You’re at my shop? I don’t understand. You’ve never been big on surprises.”
“All this talk and I’m standing out here looking like a vagrant. Can you please just come down? People are staring at me like I’m a burglar casing the joint.”
“Wait… How do I know it’s really you?”
He snorted. “Are you deaf?” he asked in agitation. “Aisanna, I’m going to return this gift to the store if you aren’t down here in thirty minutes.”
The line clicked dead and she stood silent for a long moment, staring down at the phone, wondering what to do. It could be a trick. Some kind of subterfuge attempt to take her under. But if Israel were really standing outside her shop, she didn’t want some well-meaning person on the street to call the police.
“Fine,” she told the empty screen. “I’m coming. But I’m coming prepared.”
She drew on her defenses. Her earth magic. Drew symbol after symbol around her heart to protect her from whatever may come to pass. Then she slipped the piece of agate Astix had given her around her neck and dressed for a chilly night.
Aisanna realized, walking to the car, that she was very much like her mother. They both hated surprises.
CHAPTER 15
When he rose Monday morning, Elon did it with vigor and vitality. With a spring in his step. Arching and stretching, he moved to the kitchen for breakfast. Starving.
Then he dressed for work, adding a bright spot of color with red suspenders. If Aisanna came in to work today, she’d be surprised. She’d probably make a joke and tease him about his 1920s fashion choice. Elon didn’t mind. He liked knowing the smile on her face came because of him.
As he drove to work, he couldn’t help but replay the weekend in his mind. Especially that last part. She didn’t yet know—or acknowledge—what she felt toward him, and he was okay to wait her out. He was in love with her. And he was damn sure willing to bet that underneath her cool and calm exterior, she was in love with him, too. Elon felt for certain that given time their romance would continue, would blossom and grow into a lasting relationship.
And that put a smile on his face that didn’t go away, even when he got to the shop and found her other full-time employee, Johan, waiting at the back door.
“You didn’t have to come in this early. You aren’t scheduled until twelve.” Elon jingled his keys and let them both inside.
“Didn’t see much point to sitting around at home when I could be here getting paid.” Johan folded his arms across his rounded chest. It was his way of looking intimidating, Elon knew. And at six-foot-three, that wasn’t hard. “Boss lady gonna be here?”
“She’s…” Elon let the syllable hang in the air, wondering what he should say. “She’s probably not feeling well, still recovering from the accident. It might be just us today.”
Johan harrumphed. It was a normal thing with him. He considered himself to be a crotchety old man, played it up in fact, which gave him leave to say and do whatever he pleased without thought of any repercussions. Most of the people they worked with found him brusque and hard to like. Elon merely took everything Johan said with a grain of salt.
“What did you get into this weekend?” Johan worked his way inside and chewed enthusiastically on the inside of his cheek. “Something spectacular?”
Elon allowed himself a secret smile. “Hardly.” He took off his coat and got ready for work. “Nothing too exciting. I checked the email. Mr. Massey wants to send his daughter some flowers. She just had a baby, his first grandchild. He’s thinking something tasteful and classic without being tacky.”
