Hell's Bell (Lizzie Grace 2)

“There was nothing simple about that spell, lassie,” he cut in. “And there was certainly nothing simple about the power it contained—power you don’t have.”

“No, but the wild magic does. The sprites were getting nasty, so I created a sunburst spell. The wild magic enhanced it.”

He frowned and cast around magically, probing for the wild magic that was no longer here. His expression, when it met mine, was a mix of confusion and excitement—and the latter was the last thing I needed. “How did that even happen? There was no wild magic evident when I entered the place, and there’s certainly none here now.”

“No, because it fled the minute the sprites had been taken care of.”

It was almost as if the wild magic—or rather, the woman whose consciousness now ran through it—wanted to avoid a direct confrontation with a full-powered witch.

Though I had no real idea why, I suspected it might have something to do with what Gabe had done. He’d admitted that his spell had come from the remnants of a very old one, but perhaps that hadn’t been the entire truth. Perhaps those remnants had been nothing more than that—scraps on which he’d based an entirely new spell. One that hadn’t been considered possible.

If that were the case, then ghost or not, the high council would be very interested in not only talking to him, but also gathering the exact details of the spell. Then they would attempt to replicate the spell’s success. After all, what better way was there to protect the wellsprings of this world than to infuse them with the spirits of powerful witches?

But such an endeavor would never be without risk; all power had the possibility to corrupt. Even highborn witches were not beyond its reach, although it was a rarity and quickly dealt with when it happened.

“That doesn’t answer the question as to why it came to your aid,” Ashworth commented. “Did you call for it?”

“No.” I shrugged. “But it does seem to have an odd affinity with me—it rescued me once before—”

“In the cemetery,” Ashworth cut in. “Your friend claims that’s the reason behind the unusual construction in the spells that protect your place.”

I raised an eyebrow, a casual action that belied the sudden acceleration of my heart. “You don’t believe her?”

“I believe something very weird is going on, both in this place and with you two. But enough of that for now; let’s find that fucking Ouija board before your light fades and something else comes through.”

He spun on his heels and marched out. I released a somewhat relieved breath, and continued checking the rest of the wardrobes. Again, there was no sign of the board, and the only things under the bed were dust bunnies.

I left the room. I could hear Ashworth ferreting around in the living area, so as my sunburst spell began to lose its brilliance I quickly headed into the kitchen. And there, sitting on the counter next to the toaster, was the Ouija board. In the fading light gnarled, shadowy fingers were beginning to appear, gripping the edges of the board—a spirit ready to erupt the minute darkness fell. The planchette sat beside it, unwrapped and unprotected.

I didn’t go any closer to it. I just stopped and told Ashworth I’d found it.

He hurried into the kitchen. His energy, I noted, was nowhere near as fierce as it had started out. But then, sending that spirit back to whatever hell it had come from certainly would have drained him—both physically and magically. His gaze narrowed when he saw the board and the shadowy talons gripping it.

“Step back, lassie,” he said. “I’ll deal with this.”

“Good, because I’m sure as hell not going to.”

His expression was somewhat startled as his gaze jumped to mine, then he laughed. “And why not? You’ve been trained, haven’t you?”

“Only at a basic level.” I gave him a pleasant if insincere smile. “They tend not to lash out on the training of half-breeds.”

Which was true, even if it didn’t apply to me.

He grunted, and returned his attention to the board. Whether he believed me or not I couldn’t say—not without touching him and unleashing the part of me that could read emotions.

And that was something I had no intentions of doing—if for no other reason than really not wanting confirmation that my fears about this situation and his informing the council of our presence here were based on reality.

I crossed my arms and watched as he quickly and efficiently threw a confining circle around the board. When that was done, he glanced at me, and said, “You want to go outside, grab the shovel out of the shed, and dig two holes? They’ll have to be two or three feet deep, at least.”

“You’re going to bury them? I thought it was better to burn them once they were purified?”

“I haven’t any mistletoe with me to counter the influence of any hellfire spirits that might be attached to the board, so we can’t risk it.”

I grunted. I knew mistletoe had uses other than being a reason to kiss someone if caught under it, but I had no idea it could be used as a counter against fire spirits.

“Go, lassie. I need to ready this board for removal before your sunburst spell totally fades.”

I spun around and headed out the back door, my gaze sweeping the overgrown backyard until I spotted the shed in the right corner. As I walked toward it, footsteps came down the drive, and Aiden appeared around the corner.