Curse of Night (Thorne Hill 5) - Page 8

“She’s not stupid. She knows I’d rip her to shreds if she did anything to him,” I say out loud as I pace back and then look around for the keys. Is my purse in the car? I don’t remember having it when we got in the car. Did I even take it? Or is it in the office at the bar?

“Dammit!” I mutter. I have basic magical supplies in my purse but nothing strong enough to break this fucking curse.

“Callie,” Lucas starts and tries to sit up again.

“No,” I tell him and hold out my hand, pushing him back down with magic. “Don’t move.” I stride back over, hands shaking. “The curse might spread.”

“We both know that’s not how curses work.”

My bottom lip quivers, and I close my eyes, fat tears rolling down my cheeks. “I’m going to stop it, and then I’m going to break it. A Return-to-Sender spell should reverse the effects.”

“I know you will,” he says calmly, like he actually believes it. I suppose on the surface, it sounds simple, but breaking curses is anything but. You have to know the exact type of magic used and then figure out how to peel it back without doing any more damage.

“Will this work?” Abby rushes back into the room holding a three-wick vanilla-scented candle in a decorative glass jar.

“It’s good enough.” I take the candle from her and move to the floor, shoving the coffee table to the side.

“How can I help?” Abby asks.

“Make a circle of salt on the floor big enough for Lucas to lay in.”

Abby nods and looks at Lucas, sizing him up. “Um, lie down first so I don’t make it too small.”

I offer him a hand, but he sets his jaw and gets up, one hand going to the wound on his stomach. My mind is still racing, trying to recall the hex-breaking charm that’s in my Book of Shadows. It’s funny, really, considering how much danger I’m in on a weekly basis, and I haven’t been cursed since my junior year at the Academy.

Lucas slowly lowers himself to the floor, and I grab a pillow from the couch and put it under his head.

“Try to lie still,” I tell him, kneeling down at his side. I put the candle in front of me and place one hand on his chest again, closing my eyes and trying to get a read on the curse.

I wish Pandora were here. She might know the right mix of ingredients to make some sort of potion or incense to send this curse packing. She’s bonded to me, just like Binx and Freya, and if she could hear me, I know she’d get the others—maybe even Scarlet, my hellhound, too—and would come here as fast as possible. But my mind is too scattered to call for them at this distance.

I try to clear my mind and focus on the darkness swirling inside Lucas. I can feel it but can’t get a grasp on it. I clench my hand, pressing my nails into Lucas’s chest as I concentrate. It’s right there…right in front of me…

“Revelare,” I whisper and feel myself slip deeper into the darkness. The curse reaches up and grabs me, pulling me under dark, murky water. It burns my skin and crushes my bones. I cry out in pain but don’t take my hand off Lucas’s chest.

I’m almost there…I can almost see it.

“Callie,” Lucas croaks. I know this is hurting him, too.

I squeeze my eyes shut and push harder. The curse is shutting me out, trying to block me off. Whoever cast this added a protective element, making a Return-to-Sender spell even more difficult than it already is.

“Revelare!” I pitch forward as pain radiates through me, traveling down my spine and making every single nerve spasm.

“Cal!” Abby shouts and stops making the salt circle.

“No,” I tell her, holding up my other hand. “The salt…keep…keep…going.” I turn my head, gritting my teeth. “There’s something there.” I push harder, sending a pulse of magic through my fingers, sparking Lucas’s chest. “It’s blocking me from seeing what kind of spell was used.”

Lucas brings his hand up and puts it over mine. It’s the push I need, and suddenly, I break through the barrier. Black fog swirls around me, and the smell of a bonfire mixes with the stench of death. Wind rustles tress in a forest and clears the fog.

The vision slips away, and I push harder, pressing my nails into Lucas’s flesh. He wraps his fingers around my wrist, and I’m there again, standing by the fire. A group of witches, all wearing hooded robes, grab hands and start chanting. Their voices are lost over the crackling flames, and the smoke makes it hard to see.

Come on…come on…

Suddenly, the flames quell, and the witches all bend down, pulling something apart. The pungent smell of death and decay fills the air, and one of the witches stands up, holding a mess of intestines.

Tags: Emily Goodwin Thorne Hill Fantasy
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