couldn’t afford to be useless any more than he could. She considered the page. “I could get someone else. A survivor from a nearby village.”
“This spell might kill a normal person.”
“That’s dark magic, James. Your aunt would be ashamed.”
He snapped the Book shut. “As I said, we’ll use a ritual.”
James made a list of supplies, and she collected everything from the village of the dead. The bodies were in the same places she had left them. Nobody was coming back to dig graves.
When she returned with the stones he needed—pried from cheap jewelry at a tourist shop—and some herbs, James had created a circle of power out of pillow feathers on the bed. “What next?” she asked, eyeing his circle dubiously. He was a powerful witch, but she wasn’t sure he was powerful enough to work with such a weak circle.
“I’m weak. Let me piggyback for strength.”
Elise didn’t hesitate to offer him a hand.
He took it, and his magic washed through her. It sent warmth cascading from the top of her skull to her toes. Her awareness of James’s senses came to her one at a time—first, the smell of rain grew stronger, and then she felt his knee (which hurt as bad as she imagined), and then she glimpsed her face as though peering through his eyes. Her cheeks and eyes were hollow. She looked skeletal.
His emotions came upon her last. He was tired. Worried. Relieved to have painkillers. Happy to see Elise. Angry at all the devastation. Once the power securely fastened around them, it faded, but Elise was left unsettled. James felt too much.
He leaned back against the wall with a low chuckle. “I didn’t realize I looked that bad.” Of course, he had seen through her eyes at the same time she saw through his.
She rubbed her own aching knee. “You’re fine.”
Elise followed his diagrams to apply the stones and herbs to his leg. James activated several spells from his Book and left them on the bedside as they worked.
“Careful now,” he said when she pulled out the bandages.
She closed her eyes to process the information coming silently from James. He showed her the motions to make, and she did.
When she was done, he eased back against the wall with a groan. “How long?” she asked.
“I’ll be dancing again by tomorrow.”
Elise could tell he was lying through the bond. It would be days before he was in service again—and with a crippled Book of Shadows.
Her knee throbbed. James looked sympathetic. “I can lift the bond.”
“No. You’ll heal faster while piggybacked.” She locked what was left of the Book in its case. “I called McIntyre again,” she said, just to change the subject.
“Is he coming?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
There was nothing else to say, after that.
R ain coursed down the eaves of the condo. Ocean rushed up the beach like it was going to devour them, and then receded after lapping at the wooden supports. It made the condo feel just this side of dangerous, even though James sat back on the bed. He kept Elise in the corner of his eye. She stood on the edge of the porch, and it made him nervous. He could easily imagine an errant wave rising to slap her off the balcony.
The spray blew back her hair as another crest swept toward their temporary condo. A thin layer of water sloshed over her feet. She reached out a hand so the rain drummed on her exposed fingertips, and a thrill raced through his stomach when he saw that her glove dangled from the other hand.
“Careful,” James said.
She turned her hand over so the rain fell on her palm instead. “Who cares?” she muttered. “He can’t get me if the world’s going to end anyway.”
“Let’s not test the theory. Come in and close the door. Our room is getting wet.”
She pretended not to hear him. She did that a lot.
James traced the outline of a symbol onto tissue paper. He could feel the power vibrating in his wrists as he wrote it. He had filled almost the entire notebook with spells before it was
“This spell might kill a normal person.”
“That’s dark magic, James. Your aunt would be ashamed.”
He snapped the Book shut. “As I said, we’ll use a ritual.”
James made a list of supplies, and she collected everything from the village of the dead. The bodies were in the same places she had left them. Nobody was coming back to dig graves.
When she returned with the stones he needed—pried from cheap jewelry at a tourist shop—and some herbs, James had created a circle of power out of pillow feathers on the bed. “What next?” she asked, eyeing his circle dubiously. He was a powerful witch, but she wasn’t sure he was powerful enough to work with such a weak circle.
“I’m weak. Let me piggyback for strength.”
Elise didn’t hesitate to offer him a hand.
He took it, and his magic washed through her. It sent warmth cascading from the top of her skull to her toes. Her awareness of James’s senses came to her one at a time—first, the smell of rain grew stronger, and then she felt his knee (which hurt as bad as she imagined), and then she glimpsed her face as though peering through his eyes. Her cheeks and eyes were hollow. She looked skeletal.
His emotions came upon her last. He was tired. Worried. Relieved to have painkillers. Happy to see Elise. Angry at all the devastation. Once the power securely fastened around them, it faded, but Elise was left unsettled. James felt too much.
He leaned back against the wall with a low chuckle. “I didn’t realize I looked that bad.” Of course, he had seen through her eyes at the same time she saw through his.
She rubbed her own aching knee. “You’re fine.”
Elise followed his diagrams to apply the stones and herbs to his leg. James activated several spells from his Book and left them on the bedside as they worked.
“Careful now,” he said when she pulled out the bandages.
She closed her eyes to process the information coming silently from James. He showed her the motions to make, and she did.
When she was done, he eased back against the wall with a groan. “How long?” she asked.
“I’ll be dancing again by tomorrow.”
Elise could tell he was lying through the bond. It would be days before he was in service again—and with a crippled Book of Shadows.
Her knee throbbed. James looked sympathetic. “I can lift the bond.”
“No. You’ll heal faster while piggybacked.” She locked what was left of the Book in its case. “I called McIntyre again,” she said, just to change the subject.
“Is he coming?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
There was nothing else to say, after that.
R ain coursed down the eaves of the condo. Ocean rushed up the beach like it was going to devour them, and then receded after lapping at the wooden supports. It made the condo feel just this side of dangerous, even though James sat back on the bed. He kept Elise in the corner of his eye. She stood on the edge of the porch, and it made him nervous. He could easily imagine an errant wave rising to slap her off the balcony.
The spray blew back her hair as another crest swept toward their temporary condo. A thin layer of water sloshed over her feet. She reached out a hand so the rain drummed on her exposed fingertips, and a thrill raced through his stomach when he saw that her glove dangled from the other hand.
“Careful,” James said.
She turned her hand over so the rain fell on her palm instead. “Who cares?” she muttered. “He can’t get me if the world’s going to end anyway.”
“Let’s not test the theory. Come in and close the door. Our room is getting wet.”
She pretended not to hear him. She did that a lot.
James traced the outline of a symbol onto tissue paper. He could feel the power vibrating in his wrists as he wrote it. He had filled almost the entire notebook with spells before it was
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