Trouble

“That was their motto. They were all about protecting Mother Earth and fighting for equality.” I cut the lemon into two wedges and give her one. “Their primary focus was protecting Fireside and all its original families—of which I happen to be one.” Passing her the wedge, I lift my chin. “Bottom’s up!”

She starts to do the shot, but I grab her arm fast. “Wait! Not bottoms up! I meant to say, here’s mud in your eye.”

Court’s nose wrinkles, and she tilts her head to the side. “What difference does that make?”

“I don’t know.” I hold up both my hands. “It’s what I said last time we did this, and it worked. We have to repeat the process exactly like before. Now do the shot.”

We throw back the liquor and squeal as quietly as possible, licking the salt off our hands and sucking the lemons. I cram my whole wedge against my teeth, trying to get all the juice out of it.

“Fierce like us,” I whisper as soon as the shock has passed. “Now for the spell.”

“Hold up…” Court scoots away from the table. “Stop right there. I didn’t sign up for summoning demons or dead girls showing up in my bedroom or that kind of thing. I don’t want that. Nope, nope, nope!”

She’s out of her chair shaking her hands and her head.

“It’s not like that!” I jump up, catching her shoulders and holding her eyes with mine. “Trust me. I did it with Daisy when Scout was gone. We brought him back! I’m telling you, it was crazy, and it totally works.”

“Brought him back from where?” Her brow lowers, and she gives me a one hundred percent skeptical eye.

“Well, not from the dead,” I laugh. “Back to town. He legit was back the next day.”

“I don’t like messing with the spirit world, Sly.”

“Look.” I turn the pages until I’ve found the protection spell. “This isn’t about spirits. I mean, it is about spirits, but it’s about good spirits wanting to help us. These women put this book together for situations just like this—to protect us through the ages. They don’t want to hurt us.”

“Dead old ladies.”

“Just be cool.” I slide my fingers carefully along the directions. “It says we need rosemary, sage, lavender, fresh basil, mint, and a handful of coarse salt. You grab the rosemary, sage, basil, and salt from the kitchen, I’ll get the candles, lavender, and mint from my bag.”

She’s hesitant, but she does what I say. In less than ten minutes, we’re sitting on the floor in front of the door. The lights

are lowered, and five candles are on the corners of a makeshift pentagram.

“I don’t like this…” Court whispers, scanning the room like she expects something to jump out at us.

As if kindred spirits are scarier than a real, live man threatening her.

I study the book. “Hold my hands, and I’ll say the words. Gods above and gods below, protect this home from wicked foe. Ancestors ancient and old, defend this home from hearts of cold. Spirits from beyond the misty silver, protect this home from those who pilfer.”

We hold hands a few moments longer with our eyes closed, then we open them. Courtney’s eyebrows are up, and she looks all around the room again.

“Is that it?” she whispers. “I didn’t see anything.”

“You don’t need to.” I stand, leaving the candles burning. “We protected this apartment from wicked foe and robbers… If anything, it’ll help us sleep.”

I don’t mention that I hesitated over the cold-hearted part. Could that mean Spencer?

“The tequila will help me sleep. I’ll get Oliver, and we can bundle up in my bed tonight. It’s big enough.”

She leaves me alone in the living room, and I look to the door, the candles, and the book. “Don’t let me down Fireside ladies. The palm is sacred.”

* * *

We don’t go to the police station first thing.

Court has clients she can’t reschedule, so while she’s taking care of business, I spend the time going over my bills and the money I have, hoping I can find a better place for us to live.

Treating Spencer has been a nice Band-Aid, especially since he tips so well, and my payment for the gala was a nice little windfall, still, it’ll be gone by the end of the month.