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There were twelve in total resting on the rich red velvet lining inside the box, all with a matching scabbard placed beside them. Each blade was completely different from the others. Black with blood-red rubies, gold with emeralds, silver and topaz, a jade blade with a handle wrapped in twisted gold, and more. Some straight, some curved, some like the ripples in a stream. They were all beautiful, powerful, and wickedly sharp. Her hand hovered over them one by one as the power they each held hummed against her palm. Though only one called to her, whispered to her soul with Tana’s name as it pulled her closer. Only one held the promise of power to fulfill the spell and carry their pleas to spirits that be.
The green and blue splattered white surface of the phoenix crystal blade glowed in the low light of the moon above. The handle was simple, more crystal wrapped in rustic silver in a knotted Celtic style. Jezzie held her breath as her fingers closed around it and lifted it free. She slid it into the waiting scabbard, and placed it carefully into her right pocket. Her shuddering sigh filled the room as she exhaled her pent-up breath and set about returning the box to its hiding spot.
Returning she seated herself back down next to Nithe, who sat and watched her with his legs stretched out before him, his booted feet crossed at the ankles, the same curious expression softening his features as before. Jezzie decided to just jump right in and get it over with.
“So, basically the final ingredient needs to be added only moments before we administer it to Tana. In order for it to work the blood of the witch casting the spell must be added. By doing so it will pull most of the sexual energy away from Tana and channel it through my connection with the earth. Don’t worry, it won’t affect me the same way it does Tana. In this instance, it will filter the energy through the light of pure white magic and return it to the earth beneath my feet. This will lessen the load Tana must carry. At least, I hope so, considering I never even thought I had any witchy magic in me until today.” She looked at Nithe and hesitated as his shoulders relaxed.
Inside she was a twisted coil of nerves and second thoughts. She pushed them away, watching his expression closely.
“Okay, so you slice your hand and add the blood, right? No biggie.”
She hated having to wipe the smile from his face.
“Well, not exactly. The blood must come from close to the source of the magic. The hand, even the wrist, is too far away.” Taking a deep breath she decided to blurt it out in one go. “Aunt Rai Rai taught me that a witch’s power comes from the same place all bonds are made. The place the soul thrives and loves blossoms. I have to slice deep into my chest, over my heart, Ni, and fill the cup til it runneth over.”
She saw his brow furrow, his eyes get stormy, and panic start to filter in, so she rushed to reassure him.
“I won’t die, not even if I were only a witch, and not part angel and vampire too. The blade is not made of wood thankfully, not because it could kill me but because the splinters are fething annoying to pull out, or worse, to heal over. I’ll be fine. In fact, since I fed only a few days ago on that asshole with the siren fetish, I’ll be brand-new in less than an hour. On the downside, it’ll hurt like a bitch and look even worse.”
He was off his stool and hauling her into his arms before the last words left her lips. His mouth devoured hers, his hands tangled in her hair. Her desperate need to soothe his panic seeped into the bond as her mind whispered gently to both the man and the beast who were united in their fear. It was not in a dragon’s nature to watch their mate suffer, and the bond vibrated with the protective urges of his dual natures screaming to stop her. She slowed her responses, deepened the kiss, poured her calm into his soul and waited, breathlessly, as he stepped back, his golden eyes aglow.
“So it must be. I trust you and I will serve your needs in this,” came the gravelly voice of the dragon mixed with Nithe’s own. “We will collect your punishment for trying to keep this from us at a more . . .pleasurable time.” The desire roughened edge to his voice had her thighs pressing together firmly. A throb of answering heat flushed outward from her core to encompass every inch of her being.
She shook herself free from his heady spell. Now was not the time. Tana needed her. Uncle Micah was relying on her. What if her memory wasn’t as good as she thought? What if she got it wrong and it didn’t work? Or worse, what if she caused more harm to her precious cousin than good? Would the spirits smite her? Would the Almighty rain down wrath upon her head? Would Uncle Micah hate her? Tana too? Would she lose this family she’d found? Her chance to ever be looked on as a daughter by her absent father?
The thoughts whirled like a tornado in her head as she watched the swirling liquid bubble and waited for the spark. Instead, she found herself sucked further into the murky mire of her troubled thoughts. He should have found them. He should have tried harder than he did. He’s an angel for fuck’s sake. One of the best. One of the worst. Guess it depended on who you asked. But he didn’t. He barely tried at all. Sure, Aunt Rai Rai’s magic was very powerful, and if Leraie helped with the wards he probably wouldn’t have stood a chance, and to be fair, they probably had done it together. Didn’t make any of it easier on the little girl who’d wanted nothing more than to be held in the arms of her father and told she was loved, she was wanted, she was enough, she was worth searching every realm to find.
Her Aunt did those things in her mother’s absence. Her mother did them, when she thought it safe enough. It wasn’t the same, and she didn’t know what she’d do when she came face to face with him one day. Her uncle told her stories from their younger years. Some funny, some sad. Some downright inappropriate. She soaked them all in, desperate to understand, to know the man behind the name she’d been given. Would she punch him, scream, and kick? Cry? Or would she run to him and not let go? Would she . . .
“Come back, Jez. Out of that pretty head of yours. What will be, will be, and if anyone hurts you? I’ll hurt them right back, and spend the rest of eternity making up for their sins against you.” His hand stroked up and down her arms, his kisses searing the skin at her temple.
Nithe always knew what to say and do to bring her out of her own head. Just as her eyes began to flutter shut the red and orange spark she’d been waiting for flew into the air. She leapt out of Nithe’s embrace and reached out her bare hands to catch the glowing ember, but as it collided with her skin the heat retreated, replaced by the cold polished surface of the gemstone she’d been waiting for. With one hand she reached into the cauldron, it too instantly cooled once the spark left it, and pulled out the potion stained cloth.
“Ni, sweetie, can you half fill that goblet over there with the potion and pop the cover on top, please? I need to get this thing wrapped up and ready to go.”
“On it, Jez. Just use the ladle over there, or does it have to be something special?”
“The ladle’s fine. Just be careful, Ni. Don’t let the liquid touch you. I’m not sure what it could do.”
She worried her lip between her teeth as she concentrated on tearing the cloth into equal strips before her fingers braided and knotted it around the stone to form a bracelet for Tana’s wrist.
Twenty minutes later they reached Tana’s room, supplies in hand and sans shoes. She slipped off her cousin’s leggings as she yelled at Uncle Micah to grab Tana and follow them. The man didn’t need to be told twice. He was up and running behind them moments later, Tana’s body cradled carefully in his arms.
They made it to the doors of Paradise in record time. Jezzie instinctively knew the perfect spot for what was about to happen as soon as she stepped over the threshold. Sure enough, the always locked gates in the far left corner sat open, ready and waiting. The sacred circle of rich soil was surrounded by a ring of purple peonies of varied shades. Jezzie rushed to place the candles into the soil at the points of a ceremonial pentagram as she called out to her uncle over her shoulder.
“Place her flat on her back in the middle of the circle. Her head needs to be pointed at the candle directly in front of you, feet together.”
Once she was in position and the last candle ready, Jezzie got Nithe to stand before Tana’s feet, her uncle behind her head. She handed them each a piece of thick black cloth and huffed a sigh when all they did was look at her askance.
“This is a witch’s spell involving needing and mating rituals . . .” She waited for the penny to drop, it didn’t. For Tana’s sake she took pity on them. “She needs to be completely naked. Uncle Micah, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be seeing every square inch of your daughter’s naked body. Am I right?”
He nodded emphatically as Jezzie poured a thick circle of sand and salt around each of them.
“So . . . put the cloth over your eyes, tie it behind your head, and stand perfectly still. You too, Ni. The both of you will help ground Tana to the earth. When I call, ‘So shall it be,’ repeat after me, understood?”
Nodding their heads they did as they were told, standing like stone statues.
“The sand and salt will keep you safe from the needing magic as it enters the earth and dissipates,” she explained as she set the bottle aside.
