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“I’ll be fine,” she assures me. “Honest. Stop worrying so much.”
She winks at me, starts the car, then drives off.
I walk the half mile or so to my home, unlock the door, and walk inside. It smells a little musty because I haven’t been home much this past week, so I flick my finger at the windows, and all of them open to let in some fresh air.
I thumb through my mail and trash it all when I see it’s just junk, then walk up the stairs to my bedroom and bathroom.
I need a shower and a change of clothes.
And I need to cast a few spells to strengthen my protective barriers for both me and my home.
When I step out of the shower and sling the towel around my waist, I walk to the sink and wipe the fog off the glass with another towel, feeling a seed of anger plant itself in my gut.
“You’re not fucking real.”
It doesn’t reply. It just grins.
It doesn’t have a form. Not human, anyway. It’s mist—swirling blue and purple mist—and when I begin to speak, the haunting, weird face in the center of it scowls in rage.
“Visions in glass, trickery of eye, be gone from this place, leave from my mind. I banish this evil, evict what I see, this is my will, so mote it be.”
The scream doesn’t surprise me this time. And then, it’s gone.
I stand very still and listen, reaching out through my house with my mind, but it’s empty. Even the little house spirit that sometimes shows up is gone.
I quickly dress and use the cream I just bought from Lucy on my face. I actually really like the smell of it, and the sage will be an added layer of protection.
I flick my fingers, and all the windows in the house close. I gather up the crystals I have placed throughout the house and set them in a selenite bowl for cleansing, and then I move to a drawer where I have fresh, cleansed and charged ones waiting for me, and place them in the four corners of the house.
Calling in the elements—Earth, Fire, Water, and Air—I work a protection spell that will keep my home safe while I’m gone.
I use oils and powders on my skin and hair, reinforcing the protection spells on myself, and then slip a leather cord over my head. A large piece of powerfully spelled obsidian hangs from it.
With other crystals in my pockets, I lock the door behind me and just step onto the sidewalk when my phone rings.
“What’s up, Lucy?”
“Hurry, Lorelei’s been hurt.”
Chapter Five
Lorelei
“You should have gone to the hospital.”
I roll my eyes at my mother just as Xander comes storming through my front door, his expression mutinous and tension in every line of his impressive body.
“Where is she?”
“It’s not a big house,” I reply, cringing when my split lip stings from talking. “I’m right here.”
“Here’s some ice for that fat lip,” Lucy says, passing me an ice pack.
“Thanks.”
“What the fuck happened?” Xander demands as he kneels before me and tips my chin up with his finger, taking me in.
“It looks worse than it is,” I inform him and wince when my lip cracks again.
“I think you should tell us all what happened,” Jonas prompts from across the room.
I glance around and see everyone staring at me like I might break at any moment.
“Okay, it was creepy.” I take a deep breath and ignore the throbbing headache setting up residence behind my eyes.
“Wait, this will help,” Jonas says, then walks to me, wraps his big hands around my head at the temples, and whispers something I can barely hear. When he’s finished, my headache is gone.
“It’s really handy having a healer in the family.”
Jonas smiles softly and leans in to kiss my forehead before stepping back to his wife.
“Okay, spill,” Breena says.
“I was driving home from Lucy’s, happy with my new finds and just minding my own business when that creepy-as-hell red dog with the human eyes came walking right out into the street all of a sudden and then just stood there. And I was like, no way on Gaia’s green Earth are you going to mess with me today, you smarmy bastard. So, I kept going, intending to kill the little son of a bitch, but then it just sort of…melted into a puddle of water, and my car hydroplaned off the road and into a telephone pole.”
I shake my head mournfully.
“Now I have to get a new car, and that one was just fine.”
“Yes, let’s all mourn the car,” Giles replies, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“I liked it,” I say with a scowl. “I got a little beat up, but it’s nothing serious. Called a tow truck, but someone must have been looking on because an ambulance and a fire truck both showed up before the tow did.”
