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“Help me from the bed,” my mother instructed as she held out a hand.
“Wait.” I held up a finger and handed the box to my mother before taking the comforter from the bed and folding it to create a padded area for my mother to kneel. Once it was set, Niara and I assisted my mother out of bed and to the floor. Her joints creaked with each movement, and she winced. It hurt my heart.
Once we were all in place, my mother handed me the open box. After removing the book, I carefully lifted the slender rolled piece of leather that was tucked safely at the bottom of the box. Unrolling it, I lifted a slender silver dagger that was said to contain the tears of Rhiannon in the crystal-encrusted handle.
Reverently, I set the book in the center of the pentacle. On top of the cover, I set the small dagger that had been passed down through generations of my family. Evenly spaced around the circle, we held hands. Each of us envisioned a circle of white light around us, then I breathed deeply before slowly exhaling. My voice rang out clear and even as I began.
“I call to the elemental guardians to aid me with the circle I cast. I call forth the guardians of the east element of air—I ask that you keep my mind open. To the guardians of the south element of fire—I ask that you bring forth your passion. To the guardian of the west element of water—I ask that you cleanse this space with your waves. To the guardians of the north element of earth—I ask that you ground and guide me. The circle is open but never broken—merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again.”
After I spoke the protection spell, Niara released my hand, and I used the small blade to prick my finger. Blood welled on the tip, and I turned my hand to the side to allow it to drip from me to what appeared to be a round keyhole on the latch.
My breath caught as the brass glowed and shimmered. A soft snick cut through the still room as the latch released. Heart pounding, I gently sucked the remaining blood from the tip of my finger. A shiver jolted through me, and I lifted the cover of the book.
“Holy shit,” I heard Niara whisper.
“I agree,” I returned as I stared in amazement at the first page, which was an ink drawing of what appeared to be the goddess Rhiannon and Lugh. The love in which they looked into each other’s eyes nearly leapt from the thick but ancient paper.
Shaking out of the fascinated stupor I found myself in, I gently paged through the book, searching for a spell that jumped out to me. “I have no idea what I’m looking for,” I admitted as I skimmed what I knew was the reason Belinda and Neville wanted the book.
“You need to find an unbinding spell that will reverse the hex placed on her,” Voodoo said from the doorway, startling the shit out of me. I shot him a confused glance and returned to my search.
“There are so many,” I said as I froze in my page turning. Unsure, I looked to Voodoo for his thoughts.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing toward the now open book.
Nervous and protective of the book that my family had been entrusted with for as long as I knew, I hesitated. Chewing on the corner of my lip, I turned to my mom for her input. Her face was so pale. I knew this was taking a lot out of her. With narrowed eyes, she studied Voodoo without speaking. Finally, she nodded.
Voodoo stepped into the room, and my gaze caught the deep blue of Phoenix’s as he moved into the doorway to watch over us. Desire rocked me to my core, and I cleared my throat. Voodoo knelt between me and my mother.
I added a hail and welcome to each corner to include his energy in our circle, then motioned for him to try and find the right spell.
He slowly placed his hands on the pages, fingers splayed. He was still and silent for a moment before he turned the delicate paper, eyes still closed.
When his actions slowed, my heart began a nervous flutter, and anticipation welled within. He stopped, rested his hands on the open pages, and then his lids lifted. Pale blue eyes stared into mine, but they held a vacant stare that seemed to look through me.
Slowly, and with a furrow on his brow, he peered down at the book as if he’d never seen it. Then he rapidly blinked until his gaze regained its focus, and he croaked as he tried to speak. He swallowed, then pointed. “This one.”
I scanned through it. Initially, I was dismayed as I had no idea how we would get some of the necessary ingredients for the spell. Most of it we had in the back storeroom, but some of the things were bizarre at best and unheard of at worst. Then it dawned on me that it wouldn’t be an issue for me now.
At least I hoped it wouldn’t.
Eyes closed, I concentrated on the list of ingredients we would need. It took longer than I hoped, but eventually I simply knew I had everything that was necessary.
“Damn, girl. That’s impressive,” Niara murmured as I opened my eyes to find a neatly arranged pile of herbs, exotic flowers, a few small jars, and a mortar and pestle. Though I shouldn’t be after everything else, I sat there blinking with my mouth hanging open. Then I gave myself a shake to focus.
Knowing my mom was fading fast and would soon need her rest, I quickly and cautiously mixed up the crazy concoction as the instructions read. The last thing that was required turned my stomach a bit—still, I reached for the small blade again.
With a curl of my lip, I pierced my skin again and counted out seven drops, then mixed it all together. Once satisfied that it was ready and I hadn’t missed an ingredient or a step, I poured the thick mixture into the final item I had conjured—a small silver challis.
Praying it worked, I handed the vessel to my mother. She lifted the cup to her lips, and her face screwed up in distaste.
“Trust me, Mom, I get it. Go ahead. Drink up,” I encouraged, hoping against hope that it would work.
When she tipped it up to get the last drop, she gave a shudder. Her hands fell as if the challis weighed fifty pounds, and Niara caught it.
Needing to get my mom back in bed, I quickly closed the circle. Before Voodoo, I, or Niara could help my mom up, Phoenix was there. He scooped her up as if she were made of glass and set her on the edge of the bed. He fluffed the pillow, helped her raise her feet, then covered her with the sheet.
“Here,” I said, holding out the folded comforter when he turned as if to grab it from the floor. Our fingertips brushed as I handed it to him. The darkening of his gaze to the color of the sky at midnight told me he wasn’t unaffected by that simple touch either.
