Witch For Hire (Witch For Hire 1) - Page 8

He chuckles. “Yes, I like that way of thinking. You’ve left out the fact that you’re an Esçhete. Your bloodline is powerful.”

“I am but a humble servant of nature.” I smile and press my hands together in a prayerful manner.

“If you truly believe that, you’re a rare jewel among witches.”

His words are a delicate caress over my skin. I lower my gaze from his. Maybe vampires can glamour witches after all.

“I understand your rules, Louella.” He turns my name into a seduction. I’ve never heard it spoken this way before … as if I’m a refined high-born lady of days past. The air around me grows thin. I clear my throat.

“I have everything we need. If you’ll sit, I’ll cast the circle.” I walk over to even ground and set down my bag. “Here’s perfect.” He sinks down in front of me, and I begin to pull out everything I’ll need and set it on the ground in front of him. It gives me something to focus on. I grab my stick of sandalwood incense and light the end with a thought. The smoke winds its way up into the atmosphere, and I move in a circle, waving smoke in the four corners.

The area begins to hum. Energy surges up from the ground through the soles of my feet and up my body. I can see a nearly translucent barrier. My heart thuds as I pick up the pouch of salt and cast a perimeter mentally and physically.

There’s something happening here I don’t fully understand; I’ve never been able to physically manifest like this. A blue aura forms a dome above us, shimmers and fades into nothing once more.

“Did you see that?” Cris asks.

“Yes,” I say, reassuring him it’s not his abilities at work.

“I knew I asked for the right witch.”

I call out to my ancestors, seeking their protection and blessing of my circle as I imagine the space we’re inside filling with a white light moving in a circle. When I end the casting, I swear the earth trembles below my feet. Glancing at him, I sink in front of him, Indian-style.

I swear the space shrinks. His gaze locks on mine and I fight the urge to fall into his dark pools. I grab the bowl. The coolness of the green marble grounds me, pulling me back from the vortex threatening to suck me in. I place the bowl between us and hold my hands out over it.

“Let everything flow with grace and ease, I call upon the powers of my ancestors, and the Divine goddess to grant Cristobal Cortez protection from all harm. With this blessed water, I will wash away the negative energies.” I ring my bell to welcome in the spirts, pop the cork on the water, and pour it into the bowl. I dip my fingertips inside. I anoint his forehead. Crackling energy roars to life between us.

I take the white candle, and send out the spark with my mind to light the wick. “With this candle, I illuminate the path and banish the darkness. All negative forces be gone. Disappear on the wind, and vanish like smoke.” I place the candle in the holder and hold out my hands. “Picture the threats in your mind.” He takes them. I gasp as images bombard my brain—blood, teeth, claws, and torture. Struggling against the mental onslaught, I lift his worries up and cast them out. A streak of lightning illuminates the dark sky. Thunder booms overhead. The air charges.

“You are safe, protected, and powerful.” My voice is eerie and disembodied. His eyes take on an eerie glow. His fangs lengthen. I should be worried, but strangely, I’m not. My breasts swell and my nipples harden, as my body comes to life. The conjuring has taken an unexpected erotic turn.

Ignoring

the flush over my body, I release his hand, pick up the money clip, and open the secret compartment. I unscrew the top of the graveyard dust, sprinkle some into the tiny space, and add the blessed water.

“Rip off a piece of the cloth.” He pulls it from under his shirt, tears it with his teeth, and bites into his wrist. The coppery scent assaults my nose. Blood magic. It always comes down to this with them. He lets the dark red fluid drip onto the small piece of cloth and places it into the compartment. I close it shut, spelling it to remain sealed until I release the command.

“It is done.” I ring the bell, and I’m lifted slightly off the ground as the energy leaves the circle. As I land with a gentle thud, I release a shaky breath. My nerves are tingling. The hairs on my neck and arms stand on end. I struggle to catch my breath.

“Is it like that every time you cast?” he asks. His unruffled exterior irritates me. Not one hair is out of place.

“No.” Weariness slows my movements as I open up the circle and disturb the salt. Drained, I pause and close my eyes.

Suddenly he’s beside me with an arm around my waist. “Perhaps it would be best if you rested here a moment.”

“You’ve gotten what you came for.” I’m uncomfortable with him viewing my momentary weakness. Despite his charm and good looks, I can’t forget his true nature.

“Only a portion.”

My stomach flips. I’ve never been trusted with such an important client before. If I screw up, this could be my last chance.

I frown. “Did I not fulfill our contract?”

“That’s not what I speak of.”

Confused, I shake my head.

“Don’t worry, Louella. You’ll soon understand my intentions.”

Tags: Shyla Colt Witch For Hire Paranormal
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