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“Yeah,” I mumble, swiping my hand through my hair to brush it back from my face. “That... that was... I don’t know what that was,” I lie as it’s pretty hard to mistake what had come through the portal. The horns were more of an impression when I closed my eyes but they had been unmistakable. “It was crazy, that’s what it was.”
Crazy that Blackspell would literally pull what was obviously a powerful demon into full manifestation within his fucking house.
Damon mumbles his agreement but doesn’t quite meet my eyes as he staggers to his feet. “Yeah, well, at least we were able to get the fuck out of there. I swear I’m going to have nightmares for months after what I saw.”
I can’t say that I blame him. I saw very little before I closed my eyes but those glowing eyes and that gray, clawed hand reaching for me from the mirror aren’t something I will soon forget.
I push myself up and peer up at him, curious as to what he’d seen that I missed. “What did you see?”
He shakes his head, his eyes skittering toward my door. “I really don’t even want to think about it, Cleo. Truthfully, all I want to do is get home and have a drink or five and try to forget it.”
“Fair,” I groan as I flop back on the couch and drape my arms over my eyes, but it does nothing to banish the memory of that burning gaze. “Thanks, Damon. I really appreciate what you did for me back there. And for getting me home.”
“Yeah, don’t mention it. Please, let’s never speak of it again.” I hear him walk toward the door but then he stops and pauses. “Hey, Cleo?”
I shift my hand off from where it rests over my right eye and squint at him. “Yeah?”
“Just... stay in, okay? Call out if you need to. Just don’t go anywhere, Cleo.”
I give him an incredulous look. “Damon, you know Winnie will kill me if I don’t show up. Halloween is the busiest day of the year at the shop and having a reading done on Halloween brings in a lot of customers.”
While this is my first Halloween reading at the shop, I have been friends with Winnifred Morgan, the owner of Black Crow and Bell ever since I moved, and I know how important the Halloween crowd is for her business.
“Besides,” I continue, “whatever happened back there, we got away. Whatever Blackspell brought into this world can stay right there where it is... with whatever is left of him. There is no reason to even think it would be able to find us.”
I can tell that Damon doesn’t look convinced, but he huffs a loud sigh and nods as he scrapes his hand over his short curls. “Yeah, you’re right. We aren’t exactly living in a horror movie here and this is a big city.”
“Exactly.” I straighten and stifle a yawn. “Are you in on tomorrow?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Winnie is manning the registers. I’ll being going to the Hex Festival in the quarter. I was going to cancel after what I’ve just seen but when you’re right, you’re right. I think I will feel better out among people anyway rather than having a nervous breakdown at home while Trev and Britt are out.” He gives me a long look. “Stay safe, though, and if anything weird happens, get your ass back here. Your home is warded up the ass and back which, as much as I love Winnie, isn’t necessarily true of the BCB. She doesn’t want the atmosphere too off-putting to customers—like what the fuck,” he chuckles grimly. “But I’m going to add a little extra juice to my wards when I get home. I suggest you might think about doing the same before bed.”
Closing my eyes again, I mumble an agreement. I don’t know if Damon hears me or not but a minute later, the door opens and shuts again as he lets himself out.
It takes a little extra energy to pull my ass off the couch, but I manage to do it. Tucking the blanket a little more firmly around myself in the process, and head straight into my bathroom. I have no intention of getting into bed with whatever crap Blackspell used to paint the sigils on me, and maybe the hot water will have the added benefit of washing away some of the leftover terror from tonight.
After scrubbing every inch of skin twice in the shower, I wrap a towel around my body and head into the kitchen feeling remarkably better. My ginger cat, Pumpkin, jumps onto the counter and meows brazenly in expectation of a treat. As big and nearly as round as his name suggests, he is hard to miss and even harder to avoid.
“Spoiled brat,” I grouse as I pull a treat from the little airlocked bag and give it to him with a loving smooch before depositing his big butt back onto the floor. “You know you don’t belong on the counter.”
His tail flicks at me, hooking in the air behind him with absolutely zero concern as he takes off for the bedroom—no doubt to find the most comfortable spot in the middle of the bed before I force him to move over.
“You’re lucky I’m single,” I call after him as I pull open the cupboard and rummage for the cinnamon. “No one else would put up with living with you.”
Chuckling to myself, I break up a stick of cinnamon and toss it into my mortar along with a few juniper berries, some cloves, a sprig of rue, some dried ginger, and rosemary. I pound the mixture with the pestle, grinding it up as I chant, charging and awakening the properties of the plants. Pouring a generous handful into my hand, I carry the bowl toward the wards stationed by the door. I’m not so certain that I need the boost in the protections, but it will definitely help me sleep better no matter how convinced I am that we are in the clear.
Truthfully, if this was a horror movie, I would probably be more concerned about a demon locating me and I would be hunting down something stronger. Reality is a different beast altogether. Reality says that there was little chance of a conjured demon locating me without something to lock onto. And I sure as hell didn’t leave anything behind.
I can’t help but shiver just a little, however, as I pull open the door and blow the mixture out over the jack-o’-lanterns and wards set up at my entrance. I can feel them hum in response and flare as I chant in a low voice. The artificial flames within the jack-o’-lanterns flicker merrily as they smile back at me in a way that draws the remaining tension from me, reassuring me that all is well. The batteries within them are fresh and strong and the street is as quiet and peacefully empty as it was when I left this evening.
Pulling the door shut, I glance over at the clock hanging on the wall. A quarter to two already. It is nearly the witching hour and way past my bedtime with a full day ahead of me. I Despite my exhaustion, I dig out a bit of sandalwood incense and take that with me to bed. The cleansing smoke will help me rest. I set it with my cellphone on my nightstand and quickly strip off the towel to pull on an oversized nightshirt. I pick up the blanket I came home in off the bathroom floor recognizing it as one that Damon keeps in his car for roadside emergencies. I’m certainly grateful that he had it tonight. I make a mental note to wash it and return it to him as I lay it on my dresser and plop onto the narrow edge of the bed that Pumpkin left for me.
A quick glance at my account on my phone reassures me that the money is still there and that there is still nothing there that overtly connects the deposit to Anthony Blackspell. If that was even his name. For all appearances the deposit looks like the anonymous sort set up with a cash card and burner phone. I’ve known plenty of people who used that trick when they didn’t want their spending tracked.
I exhale loudly and roll my head to loosen up my neck. Tossing the phone back down, I hunt for the lighter in the nightstand drawer. It takes me only a moment to locate it and pull it out before I nudge the drawer shut with my forearm as I pick up a stick of incense from the package in my opposite hand. I light it and set it in its burner, and proceed to slowly breathe in and out, drawing is soothing scent into me. It’s over. It’s all over. With one hand, I roll the cat enough until he begrudgingly moves, allowing me space to get into bed.
Best to just leave the entire nightmare from tonight behind me.
