Spells (Bayou Magic 2)

Hence why they’re called bloodstones.

I sent samples off from each one for DNA testing, but those results still aren’t in. So, while I know the blood came from the same person, I won’t be able to say who that person is until those results come back.

And even then, unless the owner of the DNA is in the system for some reason, we may not be able to figure it out.

It’s fucking frustrating as Hades.

I strip off my latex gloves and toss them into the trash, then pace my lab. Why the bloodstones? These are new. I don’t remember Horace using them in any previous lifetime.

What is the significance? I know that for Wiccans, a bloodstone can be used for protection, courage, and even as an aphrodisiac.

The thought of that son of a bitch leaving a stone as an aphrodisiac for any of the sisters makes me sick.

But the protection idea might not be far off.

Without thinking, I reach out and pick up one of the stones. It’s cool beneath my fingers. Smooth. And suddenly, I feel sick to my stomach. Nausea rolls over me in waves so badly, I have to set the stone down and run for the trashcan, barely making it in time to heave my guts out.

When I’m able to catch my breath, I rinse out my mouth and eye the stones.

I choose another stone to pick up, and almost immediately feel the nausea return. I set the stone down, take a step back, suck in a deep breath, and instantly feel better.

What in the actual fuck?

I pull my phone out of my pocket and call the one person who might have answers.

“Hello, Lucien.”

“Miss Sophia, I have some questions for you.”

“And I’m happy to answer them, as always. I’m actually in the city today. Why don’t I stop by your lab and we can talk in person?”

“That’s even better.” I’d love for Miss Sophia to see the stones for herself. “When should I expect you?”

“I’ll be there shortly.”

“Thank you.” I hang up and leave the lab area for my office and quickly call Millie.

“Well, hello there, handsome.”

She never fails to make me smile. “How are you today?”

“I’m just fine, thanks for asking. We’re filling orders, and I’m getting ready to go out and prepare for tomorrow’s Halloween street party. We have tables and tents to set up, along with lights to string and all kinds of other chores. I could use another pair of strong hands.”

“I’m happy to come help,” I reply. “I’ll be here at the lab for another few hours and then I can sneak out for the rest of the weekend.”

“Fantastic. I’ll see you soon then. Be safe. Love you.”

“Love you.”

I hang up and blow out a gusty breath. With the Halloween street party happening tomorrow, that means All Hallows’ Eve is the day after, and we’ll be preparing for our Samhain ritual in the bayou, in a field not far from Miss Sophia’s cottage. Something tells me that that ritual won’t go as planned. I’m not a fortune teller, and I can’t see the future, but as the days progress, I’ve felt an urgency slowly building, as if I can sense that something is about to happen. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it’s something to do with Horace.

He’s escalating. We know now that he’s been ramping up for decades, killing dozens of people over the course of his adult life—and even now that he’s dead. His spirit is strong. To my knowledge, he’s never been able to continue killing past death, though.

But in this lifetime, he was somehow able to learn and hone the dark magic that runs through his lineage. It shouldn’t surprise me that he’d figure out how to carry on past the death of his physical body.

It’s not long before the door of my office opens, and Miss Sophia walks in. She grins when she sees me and offers me her hand.

“It’s lovely to see you, child,” she says. “How can I help?”

“I want to show you the bloodstones from the murders and run some theories by you.”

She nods once and then follows me into the lab, where the stones sit untouched on my bench.

“What have you learned?” she asks.

“That each one was covered in the blood of the same person,” I reply. “And just today, before I called you, I learned that when I hold one with my bare hands, I get physically ill.”

Her sharp eyes whip over to mine. “Fascinating. Have you not touched them with your bare hands before?”

“Only once, and I felt a little nauseated then, but I always wear gloves. I took the gloves off and was pacing around the lab, trying to think. Then, I picked one up without realizing what I was doing and got violently ill from it. Once I settled down, I reached for another to test the theory, and had to set it down immediately because I felt like I was going to be sick again.”