Demonically Tempted (Frostbite 2)

I glanced at Dane, who said nothing, then looked at Gretchen. “Let you hear what?”

“Your voice,” she replied. “Show me that you can tell a ghost to go away.”

“Go away.” Maybe I meant it more to her since she was right out there.

“Good. You’re capable. I’m happy to see that.” A little smile quirked up the side of her mouth. “Wherever you’re being bothered and don’t want it, find that bit of oomph you just showed me there when you wanted to tell me off and use that.”

My cheeks warmed. “Err…sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s good you can do it and I’m glad you can.” She drew in deep breath then continued, “A demon will come at you with all sorts of things when dealing with it. You need to show that kind of confidence to banish it. Never forget that.”

“Got it. Demons are tricky bastards.” I sighed, low and deep. “That I won’t forget.”

Chapter Thirteen

After further discussions about demon history that I’d rather forget, Gretchen led us through the kitchen, then down the basements stairs. And the second I hit the last step, I nodded to myself. This appeared much more like a witch’s house.

The room was full of bookshelves with little jars lining them. The contents of some looked like

herbs and other plants. While others appeared to be something dissected out of a body. I wasn’t about to make guesses what exactly was in those jars.

“So, is this all your…” Was I really going to say this? “Spell stuff.”

Gretchen approached a high, dark wooden table with four drawers on either side. She glanced over her shoulder. “You sound doubtful.”

‘Cause I am. “It’s a little hard for me to wrap my head around this.”

She turned fully to face me. “What is there to doubt? If ghosts exists, and you believe in that, why is it so hard to believe that we’ve been given a way to protect ourselves.” She smiled, but it was tainted with a dark edge. “Whenever there is good, evil always follows to destroy it.”

I wanted to believe her. “But what you’re talking about is witchcraft, and I’m finding it hard to imagine that…” I waved around at the jars. “All these herbs and such hold enough power to stop this demon.”

A glint hit her eye. “And that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t believe that things have strength. You don’t see that the use of your voice, the power of your soul, can do things beyond imaginable.”

She leaned her hip against the desk, folded her arms and continued, “Witchcraft and spells are connected to your soul. It’s the power that comes from within that ignites the magic.” Her gaze drifted to my neck. “And just as your necklace, it’s a gift to protect you.” Her chin lifted, tone strong. “There are energies that exist around us that aid you while you fight against evils.”

“Energies like ghosts?”

“Yes, it’s much the same. Ghosts, though, are just one energy that exists. If you believe in one, is it so hard to imagine there could be more?”

“Okay, I can see that.” I had the sense she was one of those people who were right most of the time. “So, witchcraft just taps into an energy, and it’s that energy that awakens the protection in the witchcraft you do?” At her nod, I continued, “It’s crazy that I’m saying this, but that actually makes sense.”

“Good. One road block out of the way.” She pushed away from the desk. “For this to work for you, you need to be open to the possibility of it. If you don’t believe in the energies, they won’t believe in you.”

“Keep an open mind, or I’m in serious shit. Point made.”

She chuckled softly, then considered me for a long moment before she said, “Are you menstruating?”

I sputtered something close to a laugh, but when Gretchen’s determined expression didn’t waver, I blurted out, “Why is that a necessary piece of information?”

“Because there’s a spell of protection that’s used from menstrual blood, and it’s quite effective against evil.” Oh, she was being way too casual. “It’s thought that menstrual blood will protect you against all types of evil that’s directed at you.”

I glanced at Dane, horrified that we were having this conversation, but he seemed unaffected. I, on the other hand, was mortified. My cheeks burned hot. “No, I’m not. And even if I was, that wouldn’t be an option.”

“Pity.” She turned toward the table and flipped through a few pages, then finally looked away to grab a jar off her bookshelf. “If that’s not an option, this will have to do.” She opened the jar and dumped out gemstones onto the table.

I learned forward studying the little rocks, clueless, and slightly worried her suggestion was going to be disgusting. “What will rocks do to protect me? And I don’t have to put them anywhere, do I?”

She took five of the stones, then put the rest into the jar, and sealed it. “It’s a mix of hematite and lodestone, plus colored glass, as well as some other rocks.”