I closethe heavy drapes and push the sofa against the wall, making space in the living room for a grander, better-equipped version of the spell I tried last time. Using Mabel’s books as a guide, I draw a circle and an eight-pointed star in chalk before covering the lines with salt, leaving room for two people at the heart of the star. I gather black nightshade flowers and stick them in a vase, watering them with my blood.
“Do you always have to hurt yourself?” E asks in that gruff, possessive tone that sends a shiver through me.
I add sticks of incense to the mix. “Blood is power.”
I cover each point of the star with three candles—one for the flesh, one for the blood, and one for the bones.
My lips press together as I pick up the lantern.
The damn antique is messing with my head. Whenever I touch it, a hot flash rushes through me, followed by a maddening sizzle. It glides softly over my arms, my legs, my chest. It teases my navel, lingers along the curve of my hips, and slips between my thighs. It feels like I’m sunbathing naked on that rock I keep dreaming about.
It’s as if E’s very soul is brushing against mine.
I bite my bottom lip and quickly set the lantern down in the very center of the circle next to the vase, then sit cross-legged on one side. I rub my hands together, sweat gathering over my brows.
Here goes.
“Dark One, heed my prayers,” I chant as I light the incense. “What’s hidden in shadow may be revealed in light. What was lost can be found. What was flesh can become flesh once more.”
The air thickens with the scent of iron and burnt rose petals. The flames waver, bending toward me, and the magic coils around my ribs like a living thing ready to break free.
The black nightshade spontaneously combusts. Its stems curl, crumbling to ash in seconds with a faint, hissing sigh. Smoke fills my lungs. The glass vase splinters with a sharpcrack, and blood seeps through the fracture. It drips down the sides of the broken vase and pools along the hardwood in bright crimson lines, creeping toward E.
“What should I do?” he asks.
“Stay put,” I manage, even as the candles flare around us, the fire leaping higher than my head. The air drums in a feverish rhythm that makes my pulse stutter, then race. Magic floods through me—hot, sweet, and wild.
I rise tentatively to my feet, the room spinning with heat and light.
“Your eyes…” E whispers.
The flames from the candles stretch toward me, and the roar of my heart thunders—too large for one body to contain. The skin of my chest, arms, and hands prickles from the heat.
“You’re catching fire, little fox,” E says, his voice full of awe.
My insides fill with heat, my throat bobbing at the nickname. “What did you call me?”
It’s him. It has to be. The mysterious man making love to me on the cliffs.
But E doesn’t answer, probably too busy watching the flames spreading over my skin.
To my surprise, the fire doesn’t burn—it caresses. Crimson flames coil around my wrists and shoulders like a feral beast tearing free of its cage for the first time. My chest rises and falls, euphoria flooding my veins until I feel untethered. Weightless.
“Dark One, heed my prayers,” I repeat, digging my toes into the floor. “What’s hidden in shadow may be revealed in light. What was lost can be found. What was flesh can become flesh once more.”
A strong wind blows out the candles, and a white light shivers across the walls, rippling upward toward the ceiling. In front of me now stands a man-shaped shadow, haloed in rich, golden rays.
The light is so clear and bright it aches, and I angle my gaze to the ground, blinking furiously as water spills from my eyes. I can almost see him. He’s awfully tall.
Intense pain rewards my efforts to look at him, and I squeeze my eyes shut. A rush of tears from the too-bright light slips between my closed lids as disappointment curls low in my gut. I’ve tried to pass it off as a distraction from my current predicament, but I’m desperate to know what he looks like, as if that somehow matters.
“I feel…different,” E croaks.
“Now, try to touch something.” I wrestle my hands still, trying to tame the excitement in my voice.
I don’t dare open my eyes again, in fear of going blind.
“Alright,” he croaks.
